Page 6

CHAPTER

SIX

PHOENIX

Sam and I had talked a little bit on the way into Austin, but after a few minutes, her words slowed and slurred. So, I’d turned on soft music. I told her to get some rest, and that I’d wake her when we go there.

I’d attempted to tail Frank the whole way into the city but failed miserably. The man drove like a maniac. Which didn’t make sense for a priest, but what the hell did I know about priests? Frank was the first one I’d really talked to for any length of time, and he was odd. Sometimes, he acted like one of my sisters, using awful slang. Although, it was much worse when he used it. Sometimes, Frank went heavy on the dad jokes. Sometimes, he was a mature priest—serious, deep, Godly. I’d only seen that for a little while in our consult in his office, but I knew he had that side to him. But for some reason, no matter how he was acting, the man was growing on me.

I parked in the emergency room lot at the hospital, and a minute later, Frank was tapping on my window.

When he’d been sitting at the counter making jokes and teasing Sam, he’d been the silly, teenager version. But the man at my window was Frank the Priest. The one I’d met in the office a few days ago.

I rolled down the window. “She’s asleep,” I whispered to him.

“I can see that.” He studied her with a parental-like eye. “I don’t know about this. I have a bad feeling. Not for this kid, but for Samantha. I’m asking too much.”

I thought so, too, but I knew Sam felt differently. “You said she’d gain energy from this?”

“She usually does, except when she doesn’t.”

“When doesn’t she?”

“When it’s her father. Otherwise, she’s fine. Or better than fine—annoyingly peppy.”

I glanced at Sam. She’d somehow managed to fold herself up in a tight ball in the seat. Her chest rose and fell steadily. “I don’t know how she’s sleeping with the sun on her face. I need it pitch black.”

“The sun makes her feel safe. The veil between the realms is thickest during the day, making it the best time for her to fully relax. Which works out, since she keeps unusual hours. Afternoons tend to be when she gets the most sleep, but usually, she sleeps with blackout curtains. Which is why I have a bad feeling. She must be really exhausted. Especially if our whispering hasn’t woken her up.”

“But with the sun up, she can’t get hurt? With the veil thick?”

Frank waggled his hand back and forth in a so-so motion. “Depends.” He nudged my shoulder. “Wake her up.”

I reached out to her, but he hit my shoulder. Hard. “ What ?” I whisper-shouted at him.

“Not that way. The other way. Like you did last night. Practice,” he whispered back.

I understood what he meant but didn’t know how to do that.

“Follow your gut.”

That was always such a helpful piece of advice.

But maybe not totally wrong in this case.

I closed my eyes and focused on the feeling of her—the way she made me feel, her laugh, her smile. The same way I had focused on her when I’d kissed her in the ice bath. It worked then. And it worked when she was having a nightmare. But was this the best way to do it? Was there another better way? I didn’t know.

I honestly had no idea what I was doing at all, but I did it anyway.

Wake up . I thought the words and tried to shove them at that feeling. At her.

“No,” she mumbled.

My eyes flew open, and I looked at Frank. I couldn’t believe that had worked.

He gave me a thumbs-up and motioned for me to do it again.

Okay.

Come on, Samantha. I imagined my thoughts reaching out to her. We’re here. Time to wake up.

She stirred in the seat. “Tired.” The word was more whimper than anything else, and I couldn’t help but reach out and brush her hair away from her face.

I felt bad for waking her up, especially with how hard she was sleeping. We’re at the hospital. The boy needs your help. Will you wake up, please?

She jolted up out of her seat. “What?” She looked around. “We’re here?”

“Sorry to wake you. I wish I could’ve let you sleep longer, but Frank says it’s time to go inside.” I motioned to where Frank stood beside the SUV.

She wiped her hands down her face. “Right. Sure. I got this.” She looked around, then sighed. “I wish I’d brought a coffee with me.”

“Actually…” I’d filled a water bottle with her iced coffee concoction while she was getting ready. When Ana saw what I was doing, she pulled out a soft cooler and said we might as well add some food. By the time Sam had come downstairs, I’d already put the bag in the car.

I reached behind my seat, snagged the cooler, and unzipped it. I handed her the bottle.

She unscrewed the top, peeked inside, then gave me a sleepy grin. “My hero.” She closed her eyes as she took a long drink. “Thank you. What else you got in there?”

I tipped the bag so she could peek inside.

She raised a brow. “Wow. Mom went all out.” She snagged a bag of homemade protein balls, then grabbed her belt bag from the floorboard. She dug into her belt bag and pulled out a pair of headphones. She plugged them in, turned on some music, and then shoved the earbuds into her ears.

I looked at Frank for some sort of answer.

“It helps her concentrate. Hospitals are her least favorite place—lots of pain, sadness, fear, and anguish. Which attracts lots of demonic activity.”

“Got it.” That made a lot of sense.

Sam closed her eyes and when she opened them, I swear I saw a flicker of flame in them. “Ready.”

“Alright.” If she was ready, I was ready. “Let’s go.”

The hospital was busy, but we didn’t have to wait long to get visitor tags. There was a little concern about how many of us were going to the room, but Sam whispered to let Frank handle it, and he did.

It took a few minutes, but a nurse came to lead us through the hospital.

I tried to keep track of the turns so that we could find our way out while listening to the nurse’s rules.

“Be prepared for the restraints. We’ve given him enough sedatives to knock him out, but they’re not working. We can’t give him more for the next three hours, so be ready for him to shout some really awful things at you.” The nurse laughed. “I’ve heard some messed up stuff from all kinds of druggies, but this kid takes the cake. Some of the shit he’s said…”

“He’s not himself,” Frank said.

“Sure. I bet.” The nurse slowed. “This is it. Room thirty-three. If something goes wrong, we’ll hear it.” She motioned to the nurse’s station down the hall and knocked on the door. “Visitors are here.” She waved us in. “Good luck,” she whispered as I walked into the room.

Even with the warning, I was not prepared for what was inside.

The teenager was writhing on the bed. Restrained. His parents sat in chairs against the wall, as far from the kid as they could possibly get. I didn’t blame them. He was yelling some pretty vile things—about their love life, about their past, about things that no kid should ever know about their parents.

Everything non-essential had been removed from the room. The bed was pushed away from the wall, and all the various cords and instruments had been either removed or taped to the wall. They were making sure this kid couldn’t get to anything in the room.

Frank moved straight to the parents. Sam pulled out her earbuds, shoved them in her pocket with her phone, and walked right up to the kid.

I stayed hovering in the doorway, unable to make my feet move. Even if I hadn’t known that there was something spiritual going on, I would’ve guessed it by the way this kid looked.

His face was yellow. Sickly. Pale. His brown hair stuck out in all directions. The tips had been dyed red at some point, but the dye was fading, leaving them a pinkish color. Spit flew from his mouth as he yelled, and then he turned to me and smiled. There was something dead in his eyes—evil—and I took a step back before I could stop myself.

“Fucking Marissa wasn’t enough for you?”

I froze. “How…?”

“Don’t listen to him,” Samantha said. “That’s not him. That’s something other .”

He started speaking in a language I’d never heard before and never wanted to hear again. It made everything in me rebel and want to run away. But I stayed in the doorway, and as I looked at the teenager, I was beginning to understand what Samantha really did and who she really was.

Brave.

Confident.

Powerful.

Last night wasn’t a lone example of her bravery. Neither was that night six years ago. This was her normal, and I was in awe.

“Full name, please,” Samantha said without looking away from the kid.

“Zane Michael Anders,” Frank answered. “Let me know when you’re starting.”

“Will do.” And then I almost had a heart attack when she climbed on the bed and straddled the kid, who was fighting with all his might to get free.

She turned to me and gave me a small smile. “I hate restraints, but I’m glad he has them today. I really hate it when they try to rip out my throat or strangle me. Sucks. Big time.” She gave me a wink.

A surprised laugh slipped free before I could stop it. Was she joking with me? Right now?

Then, she turned to the parents on the other side of the room. “Sit tight. This might get ugly, but be patient with me. I’m going to fix this.”

Zane yelled again in that awful language, and the sounds of the words, the way they echoed in the room, something about them made everything inside me rebel.

Sam leaned down closer to get in his face. “No, thanks. I like my face how it is.”

I didn’t know why it surprised me, but clearly, Sam understood whatever language Zane was speaking.

Sam looked at something off to the side of the kid. “But you have got to go.” Her gaze narrowed. “Wait. You’re familiar. I can feel it in your tie.”

Something about the way she said it worried me.

She sat back, still staring at something only she could see. “You’re the one that had Jennifer. You were gone by the time I got to her, but you’re not gone this time. Too bad for you.”

“Wait. Who is Jennifer?” Frank asked.

“You know, Jennifer . Hunter’s Jennifer.” She sighed. “I can’t remember her last name. It’s been too long, but it’s weird that I was just thinking about her today and how I met Hunter. We were just talking about that, and now the demon is back? With the same boy you were trying to help last night? It’s almost as if something wants me to remember Hunter.”

“That’s a pretty strange coincidence,” Frank said.

The parents were looking back and forth between Frank and Samantha. Their faces were a mix of confusion, horror, and hope. It was the hope that made it more painful.

“You know what I think about coincidences?” Samantha looked to the side of Zane’s head, to where I imagined she saw the demon. “They’re not a thing. It’s always some machination.” She shrugged. “Whatever. I’m too tired to think about that right now. Let’s do this.”

My gaze met Frank’s, and he raised a brow and nodded toward Samantha.

I wasn’t sure what he meant by the look. I wasn’t following what she was saying or doing, and I had no clue how to help her.

I was trying to figure out what I should do when the boy turned to me. His eyes glowed red. “You thought you could take her from me, but you can’t. She’s mine .”

Everything in me froze.

I hadn’t taken any girl from anyone except Samantha from her father.

I suddenly had a terrible feeling that coming here was a huge mistake.