Birthright (Residue Series #2) (11 page)

His mouth fell at the corners in a half-smile but behind it there was a sign of pride. “That’s a nice left hook,” he said, tenderly rubbing his palm, which I knew was for the
benefit
of my ego. I adored the fact he made the effort. “Where’d you learn that anyways?”

“Martial arts classes. Wentworth Preparatory Academy…New York.”

“Well, at least I won’t have to worry about you,” he said
,
playfully, although I knew he would.
He
gave me
the same
amazed glance he
sent
my way every once in a while, one that said “I like that you’re from another world. It’s intriguing.”

He
surprised me by reaching out and gently taking hold of my forearm,
giving
it a close inspection. “You’re healed,” he stated, concentrating on the skin around
my bracelet.

“I work fast.”

He chuckled, relieved, and I knew I’d never tire of hearing it come from him. Unfortunately, it dwindled to silence quickly.

“I’m-I’m sorry I couldn’t stop her before…” He shook his head slightly, trying to make sense of it.

“It didn’t hurt,” I reassured him, not wanting him to
suffer
any
guilt.

I knew where his thoughts were headed so in order to keep him from thinking
a
bout
next time,
I changed the subject
.

“So
,
I know you didn’t kill Mrs. Gaul
,
but what
did
you do to her?”

I was relieved when my little ploy worked and he
snickered,
albeit a small one
.

“Oh, I just gave her a spark.” He shrugged it off
,
until
he saw the confusion contort my face.
“That’s what I call it when I transfer too much energy into someone.”

I felt my eyebrows shoot up. “You can do that?” I was amazed. “But I thought you could only enhance someone else’s energy.”

“I can do that too.”

“Huh…” I muttered, processing the possibilities. “Can
all
channelers do
that
?”

He shrugged. “Not that I’ve seen.”

I couldn’t
believe how blasé he was being but w
hen
he spoke again
,
I understood why. He was thinking of me.

“Remember when you were recovering…in the bayou? I had to be careful not to give you too much.”

“Why? What happens in that case?”

“You die.”

“Oh, well, thanks for being cautious about it
then,”
I joked light-heartedly, tilting my head back and chuckling at the ceiling.

“I’m always cautious with you,” he replied, far more serious than I was.

The
sincerity in his voice made
my head drop.
“I’m not a delicate flower, Jameson.”

He
laughed
under his breath. “No, you are definitely not that. You are far more powerful than even
you
know.” I figured he was referring to me as possibly being The Relicuum and the mere mention of it made me withdraw
.
Thankfully, I didn’t show it. “What I mean is...
the
history between our families…the feud…I don’t want you in the middle of that anymore.”

“I won’t be…
they’re
not fighting,” I reminded him
,
with a teasing smile.

He followed my reaction
,
but it was only out of courtesy. When it
quickly
fell away, I knew this was important to him.

“You are in the middle of it, Jocelyn.” He declared this with such confidence I didn’t try to refute it. “But this time you’re not standing between our families as we fight it out. Right now, you’re standing in the middle of Vires, The Seven’s personal army, who are looking for the ones who killed their accomplices. And when they find out that it was us, our two families, they will know – they will have the confirmation they are looking for – that we are together.” He paused as the images in his mind became too intense and a mixture of anger, resentment, and trepidation washed across his face. My chest sank at
this
sight
.
“I’m constantly trying to figure out a way to keep you out of it
,
but…” He sighed in aggravation. “You’re so unbelievably strong and still incredibly vulnerable…and that’s something I haven’t been able to get you to understand.”

I slipped my arms around his waist, reveling at the
feel
of his torso. He was warm
and
solid as stone. “You’re worrying about something that hasn’t happened yet.”

“So that I can be prepared for when it does,” he replied
,
somberly. “We can’t underestimate them. We were caught off guard this time. We can’t be next time.”

“I’m not sure
I understand you.”

He squinted
,
curiously. “You’ll see what I mean in a few minutes.”

“Why? What happens in a few minutes?”

He didn’t look all that happy to tell me but he did,
although unenthusiastically.

“Tonight…you’re going to see exactly what
the
Vires are capable of.”
He
paused
, waiting
for my reaction.

Having no idea what awaited us, I
didn’t know
how to react. I almost said the first thing that came to mind,
which was, of course, sarcastic:
“Sounds like fun…”
But
I stopped myself when an image of Olivia’s store flashed
through my mind.
I’d seen it destroyed once before
with chunks
of the wall
s
missing,
shelves
collapsed
all throughout, and
piles of broken, unidentifiable objects littering the path to the door. Olivia’s store was where Jameson and I first met, the place we learned that we were fated lovers. It didn’t matter that Jameson and I had been the cause of its demolition before. It held a unique place in my heart and if the Vires destroyed one thing in that store…
if
Olivia herself were hurt…

“We’re wasting time,” I blurted before my thoughts could continue down the path they were going.

“I need to warn you…
the
injuries we’ve healed at hospitals, clinics, the veterinarians…
they’re
nothing like what the Vires can
cast.”
He stopped to reiterate the warning with explicit pronunciation. “
Nothing like them
.”

“I understand.”

Still he hesitated.

“I do,” I insisted, growing more impatient.

“I’ll be there with you the entire time, Jocelyn,” he reassured
me
. “The entire time…” Then he drew in a deep breath and stated my worst fear
.
“Our first stop is Olivia’s.”

I stifled a groan at
hearing
the confirmation, not wanting to cause any more delays. Jameson had already given his best effort to warn me
, and
he was correct in trying.

I had absolutely no
foresight
as to how unprepared I truly was…

Driving would
be
a better mode of transportation
,
but Jameson and I knew we couldn’t risk it
…too
easy to
be
follow
ed
. Since it was just after dusk, I levitated us
both,
while Jameson navigated to Olivia’s shop. This method, unfortunately, left me weaker – and less equipped
to handle whatever we may
encounter
.

The last time
I
visited Olivia, her shop had been destroyed. This time it looked exactly the same, as if she had done no cleaning at all since then.
Shelves were toppled, merchandise littered the floor, and
fragments of glass covered nearly every surface.
As
we entered through the back door, Jameson had to move aside a mangled piece of wood
,
resembling what was once a desk.

Walking to the front of the store gave us an entirely new perspective
. Even though
it had endured the same level of destruction, it
was
also the place where Olivia had been cast against.

We found her crouched in the corner like an injured animal, eyeing us
cautiously
.

Olivia was
in her nineties
. She is
frail, kind,
and
grandmotherly. She
didn’t
deserve this type of castigation
.
I immediately wondered what excuse the Vires had for doing this to her and what had been done to them to
evoke
such
a passionate
lack of sensitivity.

“Careful,” a snide voice
snapped,
to our left
,
as we skirted a broken mound of candles.
It was
Mrs. DeVille, another elderly shopkeeper,
ambling
toward us
. Her
hunched back shift
ed
to keep its balance
as she slid across the broken wreckage
. “The woman’s been like this all day.”

Jameson’s head jerked back, bewildered. “She was visited yesterday.”
In
a far more
brusque
tone
, he continued
. “And she wasn’t like this when I left.”

“They came back again,” Mrs. DeVille
scoffed.
Evidently, Jameson’s questioning insulted her.

“You were here?” I asked Jameson.

He nodded and was about to explain
,
when Mrs. DeVille
interrupted,
demanding, “Why’d you bring her
anyway
? We told you to keep this a secret.”

With a great amount of patience, Jameson
’s head
swiveled
back in her direction.
“Mrs. DeVille, Jocelyn is the healer.”

“Oh no she’s not,” she replied
,
emphatically
,
her ego
bruised.

Jameson sighed
, closing
his eyes against what I saw as an argument evolving. Without bothering to open them, he elucidated, “Mrs. DeVille considers herself to be a first-class, bona fide healer.”

He didn’t agree with her in the least, proven by his struggle to control his expression.

“Stay back,” she warned
, bringing
a gnarled finger up in my direction. “You stay back. She’s my patient.”

“I might be able to help, Mrs-”

“Back!” she snapped. “Back!”

Having been fully
reprimanded now, I wondered
who was behaving more like an injured animal
.
I threw my hands
up
and took a step back
, showing her I was serious.
“She’s your patient, Mrs. DeVille
, but
if whatever you try doesn’t work, I’m going to step in.”

She gave me a
petulant stare, turning her lip up
in a scowl, and wobbled across the room to Olivia
. When Olivia
saw her coming
, she
curled
tighter into a fetal position
, and
I
didn’t
blame her.

Above the scuffing of Mrs. DeVille’s feet
as she made
her way through the damage, a croaky voice called out. “Love, just leave her be.” I followed
the words to
the dimmest part of the room
where a
thin man
was sitting
on an upturned chair, the muted candlelight making him hard to define.

“Mr. DeVille,” Jameson greeted him
,
pleasantly.

He gave Jameson a courteous nod
before continuing to coax
his wife away from Olivia. “Let the girl try, Love. You’ve been working on it all day without any progress.”