Page 32 of Revenant (Spirit Realm #2)

RUE

I don’t exactly have the best track record with spirits. When the ghosts swarm me, I brace myself, expecting them to tear me apart and devour me. Much to my surprise, they don’t attack. If I didn’t think I was going crazy, I would swear they were protecting me from the insidious darkness as it creeps ever closer.

Normally, the chill of the afterlife is comforting, but something menacing, something hungry lingers in the darkness. Though I could blame it on my imagination, I’m too familiar with the sensation of being watched and recognize it now.

Ice-cold air slinks around me, and I shiver with dread when I recognize it, having encountered it only once before.

Death.

And the ghosts are keeping it at bay.

At least for now.

Unfortunately, it’s only a matter of time before it hunts me down and kills me. The only escape is to wake the fuck up. I struggle to find my way back to my body, but something is blocking me, keeping me prisoner.

Time passes slowly, and I grow progressively colder, my connection to my body fading more and more. I suspect I don’t have much time left when a spark of warmth suffuses my chest, then spreads like a forest fire until I’m set ablaze.

Every inch of my body tingles, like my limbs are waking from a long sleep, the pins and needles sensation dropping me to my knees. But instead of landing on the ground, I fall through it and slam into my body so hard that I gasp for breath, then cough when the air is thick like syrup in my lungs.

My spirit feels like it’s too bloated to fit, and my heart skips a beat with my panic. I don’t even want to guess what will happen to me if I can’t fit back into my body. Something tells me that it won’t be good. That’s when I notice the darkness clinging to me, as if searching for a way to drag me back to the afterlife.

I’ve never been to the other side with my physical body, and I suspect our flesh isn’t built to survive the trip. As the darkness breaks through my barriers and invades my body, the space feels tighter than ever until it’s like I’m being crushed from the inside out.

That’s when the hands holding me tighten, the warmth of their touch searing against my cold flesh, my skin heating more and more until it feels like I was dropped onto the surface of the sun. I shudder, unable to squirm away from the burn…and the darkness is blasted away.

As the sensation of death fades, my soul gradually stitches itself back into my body. My wounds slowly seal shut, my bruises fade, but the blood loss is harder to replace.

I still feel like shit, but I’m alive.

As I struggle to remember how to function, I have a new appreciation for Mabel’s experience. My heart is beating too fast, my lungs aching like they are caught in a vise, while my muscles tremble like I just ran a four-minute mile.

That’s when I feel three different sets of hands on me. I’m seconds away from a full freak-out when fingers sweep against my ankle. My body immediately relaxes at the tender touch, and my heartbeat slows, the soothing sensation better than any drug.

Only a handful of people can elicit that reaction from me.

Five guys, to be exact.

Needing the reassurance that they are okay, I force myself to wake the fuck up.

My eyes flutter open, and I rear back when I find Hershamn standing over me with a creepy ass fucking smile. I try to speak, but my voice emerges as nothing more than a whisper. The good doctor leans forward to hear me. Without thinking, I grab the front of his shirt and haul him closer. “You’re curious about what I can do. Why don’t I show you?”

His eyes widen in alarm. Before he can pull away, I yank his soul out of his body. What I really want to do is toss him into the afterlife, but I’m terrified I will be dragged back into it with him, and I won’t be able to escape this time.

I’m too weak.

As if pissed at being denied a meal, the afterlife ripples throughout the room and the edges of reality disappear into black nothingness as the two worlds merge. The temperature drops and I shiver, still sensitive to the deathly chill.

I startle when Hershamn’s physical body drops to his knees beside my bed and he wilts against the mattress. The movement snaps the guard out of his paralysis and his gun swings in my direction, the man careful to keep out of reaching distance.

“What the fuck is wrong with him? What did she do?” Fear and disgust contort his expression, and I know if it was left up to him, he would eradicate us from the face of the earth.

A tiny flicker of light pierces the darkness.

A ghost.

Not just any ghost, but crystal.

The darkness doesn’t seem to touch her. Before I have a chance to wonder why she is with the guys, my men creep ever closer…only to halt when the guard pulls back the hammer of his gun with an audible click. Now that he’s not allowed to torture us, the creep looks like he would rather be anywhere else.

Or maybe he’s finally realizing the danger.

When some people are confronted with the unknown, something more powerful than them, they react irrationally at being at the bottom of the food chain. The first response for many is to exterminate the threat.

Before I can react, Hershamn latches on to my wrist with a grip so brutal that my bones grind together, and I can’t seem to shake the leech off. The instant he touches me, his ghostly form shimmers into view.

“Release me.” I infuse my order with power, and his fingers slowly peel off me one by one.

What are you doing? He glances around the room, curious about the inky darkness, seemingly unperturbed by the change in situation. Instead of radiating fear, like a rational human being, the asshole is fascinated. Where am I?

I scowl at him in annoyance, an unsettling sensation twisting my stomach at his eagerness to learn more about my abilities, the fucker already scheming how he can use me.

“You’re hovering between life and death, asshole.” Jaceson stalks forward, ignoring the doctor to cup my face. “Rue?”

His hand is so warm that my skin tingles at the contact. Needing more, I rest my palm against his chest, awed when his heart skips a beat under my touch. While I would never curse anyone with my gift, I’m beyond grateful he shares my abilities.

I no longer feel so alone.

Fascinating , Hershamn mutters, then he reaches out to touch my arm again…only his hand passes right through me this time.

I shudder at the contact, his slimy touch making my soul feel dirty. When he reaches for Jaceson, fury surges through me, and I slap away his hand. No fucking way is he allowed anywhere near my men.

Anxious at what might have happened to my guys after I was taken, I glance at them with worry heavy in my heart. Unsurprisingly, Hicks is tracking the guard like a predator about to pounce, waiting for the gun pointed at my head to waver for even a second. Jameson and Gunner are unobtrusively unhooking cords from my body, and I wince at the plucking sensation against my skin.

I glance around the room, and my eyes widen when I spot Sue and her gang. Behind her is Mabel, and I sigh in relief that she survived. I scan the area, relaxing when I locate Ellis hunched over a computer in the corner, the man using the commotion to fade into the background.

I’m distracted from my guys when Crystal waltzes closer, anger darkening her expression as she stalks Hershamn. The doctor purses his lips at her approach, a furrow between his brows as he studies her curiously. As soon as Crystal steps within reach, she draws back her arm and wallops him across the face. Instead of her fist passing through him, it connects.

The doctor grunts in surprise and stumbles back, flying right through the bed behind him. The body of the mysterious woman jolts at the contact like she was shocked with a defibrillator. Crystal’s eyes widen at being able to touch him, a malicious grin taking over her expression, and she advances on him again. Oh, I’m going to enjoy this.

I catch her arm before she can chase after him, and her ghostly shape turns solid at the contact. Before she can shrug me off, I shake my head. “Wait. Watch.”

Darkness creeps toward the other bed, pooling under the woman’s body before it’s slowly absorbed into her skin. I instinctively retreat, clutching Jaceson’s arm and drawing him away. My eyes widen in alarm when the woman on the bed sits upright. Her movements are so stiff, they look unnatural, like she forgot which body part moves in what way.

Wires tug free from her skin, cords ripping from her flesh, and blood trickles from the wounds. And through it all, she doesn’t flinch.

Ruthie? the doctor whispers, his voice hoarse with disbelief. His washed-out green eyes shimmer behind his glasses, and he blinks rapidly. You came back to me. After all these years, I finally managed to save you, just like I promised.

When the doctor shuffles closer, I slip off the bed and step back. Whatever is in that body is no longer human. A sense of unnaturalness pours off her, a wrongness that makes me cringe.

“Save me?” Ruthie’s voice is a dry rasp, and she tilts her head to the side, looking like a porcelain doll moving in a way that it shouldn’t. “You didn’t save me.”

Oily black motes gather around her feet like her body can’t contain them, the substance oozing from her pores. Tiny tendrils spill across the floor, and I instinctively cringe away from the insidious darkness.

Oblivious to the danger, Hershamn nods like a child, a genuine smile lighting up his expression. After a decade of research, I finally managed to reverse what Father did to you. You’re going to be fine.

Jace grabs my hand and drags me farther away, only stopping when we bump into the bed behind us. Pain jolts through my nerve endings at being forced to move, my body stumbling when my muscles tremble and feel too heavy, and I realize I’m not healed as much as I thought.

As the darkness spreads, spirits begin flickering into existence like it called to them. Soon, the walls shimmer ominously, and shapes push through the surface.

Ghosts.

A whole army of them.

They resemble a shambling horde of fucking zombies, each one more horrific than the last. Each body reveals the different tortures they endured, their wounds reminiscent of the injuries they obtained while alive.

A few remind me of burn victims, their skin melted and their flesh charred. With no lips to cover their teeth, their smiles are macabre. Another one shuffles forward, a large cut down the center of his body, his intestines trailing behind him. A third one has claw marks slashed across his face, the wounds so deep that bones peek through. The edges of the wound are ragged, and I swear the injury still oozes blood. The orbital socket is mangled, the eyeball dangling by a fleshy cord.

Then there are too many.

Five.

Eight.

Twenty-three.

I lose count as they push forward like a relentless horde.

The guard gapes at them in wide-eyed horror, and his arm drops to his side. When one pushes out of the wall only inches away from him, he leaps away like a cat that was just bit by a mouse. The gun comes up, and he rapidly fires as two, three, and four more ghosts appear behind the first.

When the gun clicks over and over, the bullets gone, he shakes his head and stumbles over his own feet as he scrambles to escape. “Fuck this shit. I’m out.”

He doesn’t even spare the doctor a glance as he disappears out the door at a dead sprint.

Sue and her men are spooked, but Mabel is wearing a vengeful expression. Her arms are crossed, and she doesn’t even blink when she sees the ghosts, probably because she was one of them not too long ago. She’s glaring at Hershamn like she wants her own pound of flesh.

When the guards’ blood-curdling screams echo down the hallway, no one goes to investigate.

Crystal practically clings to the guys, hiding behind their broad shoulders, her eyes wide as she gazes at the others with horror. Recognition of what’s happening flashes in her eyes, and her ghostly form wavers in and out of focus as she shakes her head in denial.

Then she blinks out of existence, as if trying to outrun her fate.

What is the meaning of this? Hershamn barks with an imperious tone, stepping protectively in front of Ruthie, though I’m not sure it’s intentional. He shoves his glasses farther onto his face, studying the approaching horde with a glare.

I huff in annoyance when I can’t sense even a speck of fear from the asshole. Instead, he surveys the ghosts like they’re something to study. I suspect if he had my ability, he would raise the dead to study and kill them over and over in some sick, twisted quest for answers that humans are not meant to know.

“The meaning?” Ruthie says with a rasp, clumsily stepping away from the bed. “You didn’t save me, Albert.”

Hershamn twists to face her, careful not to take his eyes off the horde, and pats her shoulder condescendingly. Not now, Ruthie. Let me take care of business, then we can talk.

He’s so focused on the others that he’s oblivious to the real danger. The ghosts aren’t keeping their distance because of him, they’re holding back because of her.

They’re giving her time to say her peace.

Or get her revenge.

Dark shadows swirl around her body, more and more gathering with each second. Unnerved, I reach out to the closest person—Gunner. I grab his shirt and drag him farther away. He nudges the others, and we slowly draw back until we’re at the far side of the room.

The ghosts pay us no mind, slipping around us to surround Hershamn. While part of me wants to flee, the ghosts deserve to have someone witness what they have suffered.

Not to mention, I refuse to leave without knowing Hershamn’s fate.

He can’t be allowed to go free.

He knows too much.

He will only begin his experiments over again, and I refuse to allow that nightmare to continue. No one should have the power to decide someone else’s fate. He’s been allowed to run amok for too long and ruined too many lives. He needs to suffer the consequences of his actions.

Ruthie’s pupils dilate until both eyes flash black, her body so filled with the afterlife that it can’t be hidden anymore. Knowing I have more resistance against the afterlife, I shuffle in front of the guys to shield them.

Not surprisingly, Jameson wiggles through the group until he’s pressed against my back. He sighs at the contact, his shoulders wilting, and he leans down to kiss the back of my neck.

“Sneaking off again, pookie?” He chastises me in a gruff voice, then nips the same spot he kissed, and I shiver at the warning.

“Never,” I vow, leaning into him and peering at him over my shoulder. “I made a promise to you, one that I intend to keep.”

His pale blue eyes flare, his pupils dilate, and I do my best not to squirm when I feel his erection press against my ass. He hums in satisfaction, and something seems to settle inside of him. “What’s the plan?”

His concerned gaze flicks toward the doors, and I spot smoke billowing into the room.

Fuck.

I narrow my eyes, turning slightly, and look up at him suspiciously. “Did you set the building on fire?”

“Not me!” His eyes widen, all innocent in a way that I don’t believe for a second, then he points a finger toward Hicks and rats him out. “He did it!”

He’s so pleased with himself that I almost miss the glare he shoots the others at being denied the pleasure. Hicks shrugs, unrepentant. “It’s the only way to ensure the information dies with this place.”

“I broke through the firewall and downloaded Hershamn’s files in case we need them.” Ellis sways, a weird static surrounding him, and I blink in surprise when I see his hands glow around the computer he’s holding. “I’m just going through and deleting everything else and covering our tracks.”

Gunner steadies him, his green eyes full of concern when they land on me. “We’re running out of time. It won’t be long before reinforcements arrive. They’ll want to sweep this place clean before the first responders appear on scene.”

“It’s time for us to leave, Albert,” Ruthie says in a monotone voice that echoes weirdly, like more than one person is speaking. “Father is waiting for us.”

My attention snaps back toward them. For the first time, the calm around Hershamn shatters, and he visibly flinches. He falls back a step, blinking at her in confusion, and shakes his head in denial. No, he’s dead. I saw him die. I made sure of it.

Ruthie does that weird head tilt again, then her lips twist into a ghastly smile that is more a baring of teeth. “We’re all dead, Albert. You didn’t save me. You tortured me worse than our father. I felt every horror you inflicted on me, the torment I endured eventually driving me mad.”

My eyes widen in shock at her words, and my gaze drops to the ever increasing pool of blood underneath her. It drips from her arm a tiny splotch at a time. The wound isn’t bleeding, the blood is just slowly draining from her body from gravity alone.

Her heart is no longer pumping, no longer circulating blood.

She is dead.

The only thing keeping her standing is my blood trapping her spirit in her body.

No , Hershamn denies, shaking his head, rejecting the idea as too heinous to contemplate. I kept you alive. I used his notes to save you. You’re awake because of me.

When she opens her mouth, I wait for her to speak, but she must have already said everything she wanted. Darkness spills from her parted lips and spreads through the room. The ghosts who come into contact with it flicker until they look solid, and I drag the guys away from the encroaching shadows.

More and more smoke fills the room, the visibility fading with each passing second until the lab is completely enshrouded. The darkness slithers ever closer, so repellent that I stumble away and drag the guys with me.

I swear I can almost see a man wearing a cowl, his skeletal hand holding a scythe in the inky shadows, then the image vanishes in the next second. I don’t bother to wait any longer, and shove the guys out the door, not caring if I’m a little rough.

What’s the meaning of this? Hershamn’s imperious tone pierces the darkness, and a glimpse shows the ghosts shuffling ever closer, a few of them bumping into him as he does his best to slap them away.

It’s not long before he’s overwhelmed.

Then the screaming starts.

Gunner is the last to leave the room, and I place both of my hands on his chest, shoving with all my might. Right before the door closes, my gaze drops to Hershamn’s body where it lies on the floor, convulsing as wounds appear from an invisible force.

When his body stills, vacant eyes are staring up at the ceiling.

The door closes just as Gunner slips an arm around my waist, then he’s hauling me down the hallway at a dead run. The smoke is so thick that my lungs scream for air, each breath a wheeze that ends in a coughing fit. My vision is completely obscured, and tears stream down my face from the harsh smoke.

A dark shape appears out of the fumes, coming up behind us fast, and my eyes widen in alarm. Before I can shout a warning, recognition flashes in my mind. “Dallas? Is that you?”

“Dollface?” The big black man coughs into his fists, his red-rimmed eyes streaming tears, and he narrows his eyes on Gunner, assessing him for any threats. “What are you doing here?”

I raise a mocking brow. “Oh, you know, just hanging out. Enjoying the fresh air. What about you?”

“Smartass,” he mutters, shaking his head. “We need to get you outta here before the whole place crashes down around us. Follow me. I know a back exit where you can sneak away.”

At the end of the hallway, we find the others waiting, and I wave my hand to prevent either side from attacking. “He’s a friend. He’s going to help us.”

“Dallas?” Feet shuffle, then DJ shoves forward until he’s standing before us.

“Dillon!” The big man grabs his younger brother by the shoulders and drags him close, practically smothering the skinny kid with his muscles. “I knew you weren’t fucking dead. I just knew it.”

Dallas’ eyes meet mine, and his jaw drops. “You knew!”

“You’re too kind to work at this place. I figured you must be looking for someone. I recognized DJ—Dallas Junior—immediately.” I snort and roll my eyes. “The resemblance is kind of hard to miss. He has that same stubborn, I’m going to rip off your face mood as you do.”

“So that’s why you call me DJ,” Dillon mutters, pulling away from his brother to glare at me. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It would’ve only made you more suspicious.” I shrug when he narrows his eyes. Before I can finish, a hacking cough takes me by surprise, and I can’t seem to catch my breath.

“Talk later,” Hicks snaps, his worried gaze meeting mine. I’m only a little annoyed that the fucker isn’t even affected by the smoke. “Let’s worry about escaping first.”

Dallas nods, squeezing his brother one more time, sweeping the poor kid off his feet before he reluctantly releases him. Then he takes charge and leads us through a maze of hallways and rooms. I’m coughing so hard I can’t catch my breath, my watering eyes blinding me. Gunner tucks me close against his chest, his hand on the back of my head, and I bury my face into the crook of his neck as I cling to him, trusting that he will get us out alive.