Page 27 of Revenant (Spirit Realm #2)

RUE

M y legs tremble as I stand next to the neighboring bed. While putting a soul back into the body sounds like a good idea, I don’t have a fucking clue how to achieve it. “I might need a minute.”

I step away, twisting my head side to side, the bones of my neck cracking, unconsciously mimicking Gunner when he heads into battle. As I stretch my arms, I wander near the other beds. The room is at full capacity, the six beds occupied with a single patient each. Two young boys no more than ten or eleven are gone. The machines hooked up to them are the only thing keeping them alive.

One man looks young, late teens or early twenties. He’s alive, but I swear I can hear him screaming in pain, begging to die. Not a single bone in his body isn’t torqued, his muscles trembling and jerking in protest, his insides twisting him into a shape a human body isn’t meant to bend.

Bile rises in my throat as I approach him, and I reluctantly slip my hand over his wrist. His hand is so gnarled that a few of his fingers are twisted backward, a few of the joints at a ninety-degree angle…the wrong way.

His legs and arms are so curved that he will never walk or function again. His spine is contorted so badly that it resembles a snake. Even as I watch, I swear I hear one of his ribs snap and bend.

Maybe I should be focusing on Mabel, but I can’t unsee this new horror.

He deserves better.

We all do.

And, as callous as it sounds, the more I practice, the better it will be for Mabel.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to help you.” Tears blur my eyes at the cruelty of what the doctor did to him, but I refuse to look away. He deserves to have his torture witnessed. He’s not invisible. He will not suffer alone. Taking a deep breath, I tighten my grip on his arm, then purse my lips as I offer him a choice.

“The best I can do is pull you out of your body and take away the pain,” I offer hesitantly. “I think I can do it in a way where you will have a choice on whether to stay and fight…or cut the tether to your body and move onto the afterlife.”

I refuse to think of it as murder.

I grimace at the rash promise, then dismiss my trepidation. If I was able to launch Crystal out of her body by accident, I should be able to do the same thing on purpose.

Right?

It’s all will and intent.

With trembling hands, I rest my palm against the center of his chest…or where I imagine it to be with his torso so twisted. When I close my eyes, the chill of the afterlife immediately floods my body, almost like it’s outraged by what was done to the poor man and eagerly waits to call him home.

I allow the chill to leak into his body slowly, concentrating on what I hope to achieve. To my shock, the spirit of the man sobs in relief and reaches for me. As I grip his hand and pull, my eyes snap open, and I gasp when his ghostly shape is dragged free from his flesh.

He straightens from the bed, his spirit twisting and uncoiling from his unnatural pose. He inhales deeply, his chest expanding, his back arching until he’s standing to his full height. After a moment of pause, he looks down at me with a gorgeous, carefree smile.

Torris? Mabel gasps behind me, and the man looks over my head toward her. Tears fill her eyes, then they’re hugging.

I check the body on the bed, note that he’s still alive, and release a quiet sigh that I didn’t fuck it up. To give them some privacy, I switch my attention to the two remaining beds, ignoring their soft murmurs to each other.

My jaw drops open in shock when I see fucking Crystal lying in the far bed, looking almost innocent. Though she isn’t hooked up to any machines, she is still breathing.

I’m uncertain if I’m relieved or not that I didn’t murder her.

While I would like to think I’m a moral person, I believe some people are too evil to be allowed around others. I’m spared what to do about her when I don’t sense her spirit anywhere.

She has a heartbeat, which means she is still around here somewhere.

Unfortunately.

It’s only when a spirit enters the afterlife that the ties to their body are severed and it dies.

Ignoring her, I head toward the last bed, not feeling the least bit guilty that I’m leaving her to rot, not when she tried to kill me. She can figure out how to save herself.

The last occupant is a woman in her late thirties. She looks innocent, almost angelic, not a line or blemish marring her face. Her light brown hair is perfectly groomed, like she just went to bed and never bothered to get back up, perfectly frozen in time.

Hershamn doesn’t seem like the type of guy to waste time on meaningless gestures. Whoever she is, she’s someone special to him. “Who is she?”

Torris and Mabel fall silent, then wander over and glance down at the bed. Mabel is the one who speaks. I don’t know. She’s been here from the start. I’ve never seen her awake.

The closer I get to the bed, the more the hairs on my arms rise in alarm. Her spirit is still trapped inside her flesh, the malevolent energy enough to turn the air toxic, and I hastily back away. “Let’s get you back in your body and get out of here. This place gives me the creeps.”

Mabel grins, and I blink when she flashes her sharp, pointy little teeth. She acts so innocent, so different from her sister, that I forgot she is dangerous. Maybe if I was smart, I would leave, but she has the same golden glow about her as her twin. If she were truly bad, her aura would be a putrid green or pitch black.

I refuse to be like the guards or the servants in my father’s house.

I can’t turn my back on those in trouble.

If I leave, she and her sister will die in this place.

I follow the others back to the bed, Torris and Mabel waiting on the opposite side with hopeful expressions. Needing time to wrap my mind around what they want done, I glance at Torris. “Have you decided what you want to do?”

He very purposefully doesn’t look at his body. I’m going to stay and help Mabel get out.

Shadows fill his eyes, rage thickening the air around him, stinging my skin like a swarm of mosquitoes feasting. I understand vengeance, even craving it myself. After what the doctor did to him, I can’t blame him. Unfortunately, if his anger is allowed to fester, he could turn malevolent.

I worry that I rescued him from his tormented existence a little too late.

Pain can twist even the strongest mind. I was lucky. My torture happened when I was young enough that my body was able to adapt by learning to ignore any pain sensors. For a grown man, it would be mind shattering.

Mabel shifts, casually brushing her arm against his, and the contact is enough to steady him. The tiny specks of darkness swirling around his aura slowly blink out of existence. A small glow spreads from the contact, a warm yellow and soft pink. That’s when I realize that they are in love, and my heart breaks a little more.

It’s okay , Mabel says to me, her smile heartbreaking as she links her fingers with his. We knew we didn’t have a future together, but we weren’t able to help ourselves.

She’s alive. Torris leans down and kisses the top of her head. That’s all that matters.

I glance between the two of them, sadness weighing me down. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

Absolutely , Torris answers for her, his face hardening with determination. She must live.

I don’t miss the implied threat—he will kill anyone who becomes an obstacle.

“Are you ready?” I glance between the two of them. “Or would you like a moment to say goodbye?”

We have already said our goodbyes long before today , Mabel says in a soft voice, then straightens her spine.

We made sure to say hello and goodbye every morning and evening…just in case. Torris gazes down at Mabel tenderly, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear, and kisses her forehead. When he glances back at me, his expression hardens. Please do it now before anyone can interrupt.

“Right,” I mutter, glancing back at the door behind me like it could be kicked open at any moment. And once again, I’m reminded how much I despise bullies like Hershamn. The time for stalling is gone. If I can yank a soul out of a body, I should be able to put one back in one, right?

Both ghosts watch me, Mabel with infinite patience and trust, while Torris is barely able to contain his worry, probably already realizing I have no clue what I’m doing.

And I tell them that, tacking on my own warning. “I’ll do my best, but I can’t guarantee this will work.”

I trust you , Mabel says, then slips her hand around the crook of Torris’ elbow, resting her head against his shoulder as she snuggles close.

Torris gazes down at her, his expression softening, and he doesn’t look up at me when he speaks. We trust you. Save her. Please.

I’m left with no other option than to do as I promised. A hint of an idea percolates at the back of my mind, and I decide to trust my gut. “Okay, I want you to lie down in your body.”

Mabel grimaces, a shudder passing through her, and I swear she turns a little transparent at the thought. She shakes off whatever is bothering her and nods, her expression filling with determination. Very well.

“Something wrong?” I ask, peering down at her body, like I can figure out the issue.

It’s just cold, like it’s trying to suck the life out of me. Mabel shrugs, avoiding my gaze as she crawls across the bed and gingerly settles back into her skin. She sinks into her flesh slowly, as though she’s being entombed in a too tight space. She shifts and twitches until her form finally disappears.

It’s a little unnerving to see her vanish inside her own body. She practically vibrates with revulsion, sheer determination the only thing keeping her still.

If she can do her part, then so can I.

I carefully place my hand on her chest and grimace when it feels like my palm is pressing against chilled slime. Her body is indeed trying to drag her spirit back to where it belongs. Our human forms are not equipped to survive without a soul. It’s unnatural.

The chill from the other side fills me once again, but more cautiously this time, more used to reaping spirits than repairing them. I flood her body with a steady stream from the afterlife, watching it fill her like a balloon, slowly pressing her soul against the underside of her skin. The only thing that prevents her from being ejected is my hand on her chest.

The space feels a little too tight, like her skin might split under the strain, her spirit stretching thin. I hear a low boom from inside her chest that sounds a lot like rolling thunder, and my eyes widen in horror when her soul disintegrates.

I yank my hand back, curling my fingers into a fist, as if to deny that I just killed her. Before I can confess, Mabel lets out a painful gasp, and her spine arches off the bed. A second later, she drops back to the mattress with a thud, then her eyes flutter open.

“Mabel?” I ask hesitantly, uncertain if I succeeded in helping her or if I just lobotomized her.

“Why do my muscles feel like cement?” A tortured groan escapes Mabel, and she slowly turns her head toward me. “Being a ghost was a lot easier. Ugh…I feel like a stowaway. Give me a second to remember how to do…stuff.” She waves a hand—more like flops it around—and nearly smacks me in the face.

She glances toward the other side of the bed, and sadness tinges her expression. “Torris?”

The man in question touches her hand lightly. As if she can still sense him, her hand curls around nothing. Heart breaking, I smile down at her. “He’s still here. He’s holding your hand. He’s not going anywhere.”

With a shuddering breath, Mabel pushes herself upright…and nearly topples off the side of the bed. Since she doesn’t weigh more than a feather, I catch her easily. I wrap my arm around her waist as she tries to remember how to walk again. Once she is able to stand without help, I smile down at her proudly. “What do you say we find your sister and bust out of this popsicle stand?”

Mabel snorts at my idiocy and rolls her eyes. “You’re so weird.”

“What gave that away? Was it the part where I talk to ghosts?” A small smile blooms across my face, and I raise an eyebrow down at her. “Because if that’s your criteria, I hate to say it, but being a ghost beats my crazy, hands down.”

“Touché,” she says with a rueful smile. “Let’s collect your men. I’m sure they’re probably ready to burn this place down to find you.”

She’s not wrong , I think with a wry smile, and glance at her from the corner of my eye. “Just how much have you been watching us?”

“What else am I supposed to do for entertainment?” Mabel shrugs, unabashed at being caught spying. “In a place that holds no happiness, it was nice to see love is not dead.”

“Love?” I parrot like an idiot, so startled that I almost trip over my own feet.

“The way they immediately look for you when they enter a room. The way they linger near you, like they can’t bear to be away from you for a second.” Mabel takes a step toward the door, nearly dragging me with her this time. “The way they worship you with their eyes, always protecting you against any threats, or doing something silly or sweet just to make you smile… I want that someday.”

Warmth fills my chest at her description of my men. It’s one thing to confess your love out loud and another thing to show it so publicly. Even surrounded by the horrors of this place, they never once floundered in their devotion or cast blame.

Love like that is rare, once in a lifetime, and it happened to me with each of the guys.

Despite my nightmare of an upbringing, I realize that I am lucky.

Most people don’t find it even once, much less five times.

I catch sight of Torris hovering near her side, the expression on his face so tender that I don’t have the heart to tell her she already had it, not when it’s now beyond her reach. From the sadness in her eyes, I suspect she already knows.

“Wait. If you were watching us so much, why didn’t I see you?” The thought of ghosts being able to hide from me is troublesome.

Mabel’s brows rise in surprise, and she shrugs. “Most of the ghosts here avoid the living. If you hadn’t noticed, many of the people here are fucking crazy. The few times I’ve seen you, it’s like you held a wall around yourself and the guys. It practically has barbed wire coiled on top. If I tried to approach, my body would fade.”

My shoulders relax at her reassurance. With Jace being able to see ghosts, I reinforced my walls to protect him. It’s a relief to know that it worked. I wince and send her an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

“I understand.” She grins back, completely unperturbed. “The living are weird about ghosts. Some demand answers when confronted by the unknown, while others just scream and scream.”

By the time we reach the door, we’re both slightly out of breath. While Mabel is gaining control of her body again, it’s painful to watch, like a tin man battling rusted hinges. As much as I want to urge her to hurry, I keep my mouth shut.

When I open the door, I come face-to-face with Hershamn.

I don’t even have a chance to open my mouth before he thrusts his hand out, plunging a needle into my neck. “I’m sorry, Miss Rue, but you’re too important to lose. We have too many things to discuss.”

My skin throbs where he injected me, and a burning heat spreads through my flesh. I open my mouth to tell him to go to hell, but no sound emerges. My eyes flutter shut, and I feel my body drop like the strings have been cut.

Mabel stumbles away from me, and I silently urge her to run. Maybe she hears me, I’m not sure, but Torris is at her side, practically shoving her out the door. She casts me a frightened look, then bolts down the hallway.

The doctor ignores her, because where would she go, right?

No, he’s too focused on studying me to be aware of the world around him.

Instead of falling unconscious, the instant I hit the ground, the world around me flips so fast that I fall through the floor and stagger, blinking in shock when I find myself standing in limbo.

Fucking hell.

Whatever was in the syringe was potent enough to have me hovering between life and death. I’m stuck in the afterlife, and I have no clue how to leave. When I try to reach for my body, it’s like something is blocking me.

I’m well and truly screwed.

I know better than anyone that if I can’t find a way back soon, it will die without me. Shadows shift in the darkness, and I gulp when I realize I’m not alone. Somehow, I very much doubt I will be able to banish the ghosts from this side of the veil.

If the ghosts get their hands on me, I fear that even if the guys find me in time, there will be nothing left of me to save.