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The Soul Healer Page 9
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My stomach gurgled at the mention of food. “Cake?”
“Huh?” She wrinkled her nose. “For breakfast?”
Oh boy. This girl needed to learn the proper way to live life, and it was up to me to show her. Sliding off the bed, I hooked arms with her. “Nina, any time is cake time.”
Chapter Eighteen
Twenty minutes later (okay, no, it was more like a half hour because I wasn’t rushing for stupid Director Jerkface) I had showered, eaten (cereal and juice—where was my coffee!), and dressed in the new clothes Nina had bought for me (another comfy sweater and jeans), and was now on my way to meet Charles in his office.
“Don’t be nervous,” Nina said as we rode the elevator to the second floor. “I know he seems harsh, but Director Adler is actually nice.”
I couldn’t stop myself from snorting. Loudly.
“No, he really is,” Nina said. “He’s just impatient for you to bring back his wife. That’s why he’s been yelling and stuff.” She fiddled with one of the bracelets on her wrist. “But after you bring her back, then he’ll be super nice, you’ll see. You’ll like him, too.”
I stared at her. How could someone be so delusional? “Nina, he kidnapped me. Brainwashed my family. Threatened me. Treated me like crap. I will never like him. And I don’t know why you like him, either. Why any of you do. I could tell from the moment I met him that he sucks.”
Her big eyes filled with tears. “That’s not true!”
“He stabbed Jonathan!” I exclaimed. “How is that nice?”
She mumbled something under her breath. I was fairly certain it was, “He deserved it.”
Whoa. So Nina did have a dark side to her, under all of that pink. Interesting…
Before I could push her any farther, the doors dinged open and we stepped out. I felt a rush of relief when I saw Philip waiting outside one of the doorways, his arms crossed over his broad chest. Hurrying to his side, I gave him a small smile. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Philip looked surprised. “Of course I’m going to be here. No one should face the royal asshole on their own, you know?”
Nina made a disapproving noise in the back of her throat, and Philip and I rolled our eyes at one another. She pushed past us, knocking on the door and waiting for Charles to answer before opening it. “I brought the Soul Healer, Director Adler!”
“Thank you, Nina.” Charles didn’t bother looking up from the note he was scribbling at his desk, just waved us forward. “You’re dismissed. You too, Philip.”
Ignoring him, Philip plopped down in a chair and crossed his legs. After a moment’s hesitation, I sat down in the other chair, a wooden, uncomfortable thing that creaked whenever I moved. Nina called out a cheerful goodbye and shut the door behind her.
The office was smaller than I expected for the head of the New York branch of Silver Moon. My bedroom back home was bigger, and it had an attached bath! The office barely had enough room for Charles’s desk and chairs. Already, I was starting to feel claustrophobic. Especially considering there were no windows, just wrap-around bookshelves on all four walls.
Books, so many books. No wonder Rafe was convinced he could find out something about my powers here!
Charles finished his note and sighed when he saw Philip was still there. “Philip—”
“Nope,” he interrupted. “Not leaving you alone with her. Not after this morning.” He gestured with his hand. “So go ahead and say whatever it is you needed to tell her. I’ll try to stay quiet and just listen.” Philip grinned. “No promises, of course.”
I was so, so grateful for Philip at that moment. Because the truth was, I was a little bit (okay, a lot) terrified of being in the same room as Charles. At first I had thought he wanted to keep me safe, alive, so I could do my magic and heal people, but after this morning, I saw just how dangerous he really was. Did that mean I was going to keep my mouth shut and stop egging him on?
No way.
But maybe, maybe today I could listen, too, and maybe learn something about me and my powers. I mean, ever since that first night, when I had healed Rafe, I’d had so many questions. Who was I, really? Where did my powers come from? Were they connected to my Sight somehow? Was there anyone else like me?
Was I really a Soul Healer? Could I bring back the dead?
“Hmm, I see you’re finally showing some interest in you powers,” Charles said to me, being all creepy and watching the warring emotions play across my face, correctly interpreting them somehow.
I kicked at the floor with the new pair of sneakers Nina had bought me. “Maybe.”
“And why shouldn’t you be?” he asked as if I hadn’t spoken. “If I were you, I would have raced to Silver Moon’s headquarters the day after I healed for the first time, asking them to explain things to me.”
I gave him a dirty look. “I was told to stay the hell away from you, actually. And now I know why.” Great, I had managed to hold in the snark for a full two minutes. A new record for me. “And you haven’t explained anything to me anyway. Just stabbed someone and
threatened me a lot. Very enlightening.”
He settled back in his chair, unperturbed by my remarks. “I feel the best way to learn is not by teaching, but by showing. I had hoped you would have healed Jonathan, but now I see that was impossible. You had no reason to heal him, so you didn’t. It was simple as that. But I wonder…” Charles leaned over and picked up a box covered in a blanket. “I wonder if your powers will show if your feelings are different.” He pulled the blanket off the box to reveal the same tank I had seen in Nina’s room. Her rodent-pet was still inside, but its coat was no longer a pristine white.
No, it was soaked in blood, no doubt coming from the severe wound on its side.
I yelped, standing so quickly my chair nearly toppled over. Next to me, Philip cursed, standing as well. “Dad, what did you do?”
“What I had to,” he said simply, still watching me.
I felt the blood drain from my face, and I was moments from puking my breakfast all over Charles’s desk. What he had to do? Give me a break!
Philip curled his hands into fists. “That’s Nina’s guinea pig, isn’t it? Does she know you used it for your sick experiment?” The poor thing was stretched out on its side, its eyes squeezed shut and its breathing labored. The blood coating its fur was bright red, and there was so much of it… My heart was shattering into tiny little shards as I watched it suffer.
“She gratefully handed him over,” he said. “She will do anything to help Silver Moon. As should you, Philip.”
“Screw Silver Moon,” I snapped, my voice shaking with anger. “Screw Silver Moon and screw you. You sick bastard. You enjoy hurting things, don’t you?”
“I told you, Gabiella, I did it to help you.” He waved me over, but I didn’t move, my feet frozen to the floor. “You feel angry, yes? Helpless, maybe? What about your powers? Do you feel them?”
“The only thing I feel is an intense desire to kill you.” I turned to Philip. “We have to help it! Do you know a vet?” I was sure he did; Rafe said demons liked to play with helpless victims, which included small animals. He had known exactly where to take Bo the kitten when Fishface had attacked it.
“No!” Charles said. He slammed a fist on the table, making the tank rattle. The guinea pig didn’t even move. “No vets! Heal it or it dies, Gabiella!”
“I can’t!”
“You’re not even trying!” His face was flushed, his eyes bright and wide as he grew increasingly agitated. “Try to heal it!”
“I can’t!” I said again. Tears pricked my eyes; I didn’t want to show weakness in front of him, but I was telling the truth. I couldn’t heal the guinea pig. I was too scared, too sick, too angry to see straight, let alone summon my powers. Not that I knew how to summon them. It just happened. Why couldn’t Charles understand that? Why did he insist I do something when I kept telling him I didn’t know how?
“You are nothing but a fraud,” Charles said, com
ing around the desk and grabbing me by the arm before either Philip or I could react. He squeezed hard enough to cause me to cry out in pain and began dragging me toward the door. “You won’t even try. Do you even know how many people are suffering because of your stubbornness?”
“Dad, let her go!” Philip launched himself at us, only to crash hard into an invisible wall. It flashed a brilliant blue-white, sending Philip flying across the room and into a bookshelf. He slumped to the floor, books raining around his motionless body.
Icy fear struck me deep in my stomach. “Philip!” I screamed as I pounded my fists against Charles’s shoulders. “What did you do to him?”
“He’ll be fine,” he answered as we stumbled into the hallway, heading to the elevator. “He’s just weaker than most people when it comes to magic. He’ll wake up in an hour or two with a bad headache, nothing more.”
I hated how calm he sounded, like attacking his son was as normal as talking about the weather or what you ate for dinner last night. It was frightening, this lack of emotion. Charles had no qualms about stabbing people, hurting animals, or knocking out his son.
Which meant he had no problem doing whatever it was he was about to do to me.
The elevator doors opened, and he threw me inside.
Chapter Nineteen
I fought him, of course. Inside the elevator, I raged at him, kicked and punched him, and finally collapsed on the floor, utterly spent. Charles, for his part, didn’t react to any of it—not the insults, nor the physical attacks. He just stood there, watching the floor numbers count up.
I wondered if he was taking me to the top floor so he could chuck me off the roof.
The elevator came to a stop at the eighth floor. Charles hauled me to my feet, and I was too exhausted to fight him. “Where are you taking me?” I whispered, tears running down my cheeks. I no longer cared about appearing weak in front of him. I knew it—I was weak. I had told Rafe I could take care of myself, and look at what a great job I was doing. Philip had been hurt, Nina’s poor guinea pig was probably dead, and now Charles was going to do who knows what to me for not cooperating.
Yeah, I sucked at taking care of myself.
“I want you to see, firsthand, what sort of pain you’re inflicting on others due to your selfishness.” He yanked me hard down a corner, nearly wrenching my arm out its socket, and I pressed my lips together to prevent a scream from leaking out. “Maybe then you’ll start doing what I ask.”
“I told you, I don’t know how I do it!” I pushed against him, suddenly filled with an intense desire to get the hell away from wherever it was he was taking me. I didn’t want to see any more horrors—not today, not ever. I dug in my feet, my shoes squeaking against the granite floor.
Charles was having none of that, however, practically carrying me the rest of the way and throwing me into a room with so much force that I collided with the bed in the middle of the room. The occupants jumped to their feet, and I heard Evan exclaim, “Gabi?”
Oh no. No, no, no. If Evan was here, that could only mean…
I slowly climbed to my feet, avoiding looking at the person lying in the bed. Evan wisely kept his distance, probably afraid I would slap him again if he tried to help me up (I absolutely would, too), but concern was clearly etched across his features as he watched me. “What’s going on?” he asked, directing his question to Charles.
Before he could answer, a middle-aged Asian woman rushed toward me, throwing her arms around me. “You’re her, aren’t you?” she asked, smelling strongly of some type of floral perfume that made my eyes water. She was dressed in an expensive-looking business suit, and jewelry sparkled from her fingers, wrists, neck, and ears. Behind her, a man hovered, his face drawn tightly as he watched the woman squeeze the life out of me. “You’re the one who’s going to save our baby?”
I knew exactly who these people were: Alexandra’s parents.
I wanted to glare at Charles for bringing me here and doing this to me, but Mrs. Chen had me angled in the opposite direction so that the only person I could glare at was Mr. Chen. But I didn’t want to. He looked like he was torn between crying or smiling, and his dark eyes were alit with a fiery hope as he waited for me to fix everything.
“I can’t,” I half-sobbed into Mrs. Chen’s shoulder, my tears probably ruining her suit (that I’m sure cost more than two years’ worth of wages at the Corral) in the process. “Please, I can’t—”
“No.” She pulled away slightly, still gripping me tightly as she searched my face, looking for what I couldn’t give her. We stood eye-to-eye; she wasn’t a tall woman, her heels giving her an extra inch on me, but she was strong and I couldn’t break free. I had to remind myself that this was a former hunter—before her son was murdered, she faced and fought demons. If she wanted to hold on to one helpless teenage girl, she would.
Mrs. Chen was striking more than beautiful, all sharp angles and lines. Her black hair was cut short, with bangs sweeping sideways across her forehead, and her dark brown eyes were sunken and glazed, like she hadn’t slept since she had first lost her son and then her daughter. But even despite that, she wielded so much power that she commanded everyone in the room to pay attention only to her. In comparison, her husband seemed so small (despite being taller), so meek, so timid. He stood there, watching us, saying nothing, diverting his eyes whenever he caught me glancing at him.
“Don’t say no,” Mrs. Chen said, pulling me to the bed, next to where Evan stood. He stayed silent, but I could feel his eyes looking, searching, pleading with me to help them. To help Alexandra.
God, I wanted to, if it meant this nightmare would be over. But as Mrs. Chen all but threw me on top of her daughter, grabbing my wrists and holding them out over Alexandra’s prone body, nothing happened.
Nothing.
“I can’t, please, I can’t,” I said, still crying. I could feel the desperation pouring off of Mrs. Chen, and she shook me harder still.
“Try, please, try! Look at her, look at what she’s like! She’s been like this for two years. Don’t you want to help her?”
Still, I tried to avoid glancing at Alexandra. I knew what she looked like—I had seen her the night Davenport had kidnapped my sister. The image of her, so small, so helpless, was seared into my brain forever.
I squeezed my eyes shut. “I can’t.”
Mrs. Chen let out a wail. “Why won’t you help her? Why won’t you save my baby!” She shook me so hard my teeth clacked together. I tried shoving her away, but it was no use. Her eyes, which had looked dead to me only moments ago, were blazing now with anger. “You stupid, useless girl! They said you would help!”
“I CAN’T!” I screamed as loudly as I could, my voice finally shutting her up. “I can’t, okay! I want to, but I don’t know what I’m doing! That time I healed Rafe? And Evan? Those were accidents! And I don’t remember anything from either time, so I’m sorry, but you screaming and pushing and hurting me isn’t going to make my powers work, so just stop it—”
Mrs. Chen struck me hard across the face, and I stumbled backwards. I would have fallen, too, if Evan hadn’t caught me. My hand went to my throbbing cheek, shocked.
“Get her out of here, please,” Mr. Chen whispered, speaking for the first time.
Evan pulled me away, leading me into the hallway. Surprisingly, Charles didn’t stop us, although he did lean over to murmur in my ear, “See how much pain you’re causing, Gabiella?”
I curled my hands into fists. God, I hated him.
No, not just him.
I hated all of Silver Moon.
Chapter Twenty
Wordlessly, Evan led me down the hallway, using his key to unlock the elevator. He ushered me inside once it arrived. I slumped against the wall, one hand still clutching my cheek, sliding down until my butt hit the floor. Evan punched the button for the roof, and I wondered if he was going to push me off for not saving his girlfriend.
With the way I was feeling, maybe I’d do him a favor and th
row myself off, no help needed. Mrs. Chen’s shrieks echoed in my ears, and I felt sick to my stomach with my uselessness. Charles was right; I was causing people pain. But what could I do? Why did they insist I was being selfish, cruel? I was telling the truth—I didn’t know what I was doing!
We reached the roof and the elevator doors opened, revealing a long and narrow hallway. At the end was a door that led outside. Bright sunshine spilled through the door’s window, making me squint. Evan headed for it, glancing over his shoulder when I didn’t move. “Come on, Gabi. Let’s talk.” He stuck his foot next to the elevator’s doors so they wouldn’t close.
“Where? Outside? Are you crazy?” I pointed to the window. There was snow on the roof; I could see it from here. I was already feeling horribly miserable. Now he wanted me to stand outside without a jacket and freeze to death?
A ghost of a smile flitted across his lips. “I promise you won’t be cold.”
“And how do you plan—” I trailed off when I saw him summon one of his blue fireballs in the palm of his hand. Even from here, I could feel the heat radiating from it. “Fine.” I pulled myself up and followed him outside, regretting my decision as I was immediately assaulted by an icy blast of arctic air. “Evan!”
“All right, all right,” he said, throwing blue fireballs in a semi-circle around me. Not surprisingly, they settled comfortably on the snow-strewn ground without setting anything on fire. I didn’t know how he did that (I mean, besides the obvious “it’s magic!” answer), but I had to admit the effect was cool. Leaning against the wall, I watched the blue flames dance slightly in the wind as they kept the chill from seeping into my bones.
The sounds of Manhattan—cars honking, people talking and a dog barking in the distance—floated up to us on the roof, reminding me that the city was this living, breathing thing that never stopped, no matter what crap was going on in someone’s life. And my life at that moment was pretty crappy. I wished again that I was down on the pavement, holding hands with Rafe as we went Christmas shopping. It was such a normal, innocent dream, one that I knew I could never have.