Fragile Spirits (2 page)

R
ace flipp
ed channels between a biography of a serial killer and a trashy reality show. “You’ve gotta give it to Charles; he lives well. I mean, look at this place.” He gestured around him and switched channels on the enormous flat-screen TV again, putting his feet on the coffee table.

I cringed inwardly at his boots on the fine, polished wood.

He was right; the mansion was amazing. It was built by the finest artisans money could buy. It wasn’t only high-class, it was high-tech, especially this media room with its state-of-the-art electronics. Charles was one of the oldest Speakers in the world. As IC regional director, he held a lot of power, but he no longer interceded on behalf of the Hindered. The older a Speaker got, the more difficult it was to soul-share—not only was it hard on the body, it taxed the soul as well. Most retired in their fifties, relaxing until the next lifetime. Not Charles. Every cycle, his Protector, who was considerably older, had died before him, and he spent the remainder of his cycle training new interns. I was lucky to have been chosen for this position two years ago. I lived in luxury most people only dreamed of. Over his many lifetimes—heck, maybe thousands of years—he’d amassed a fortune, kept safe by the IC between cycles. My good luck at his favor still baffled me, but I’d learned at a very early age that when opportunity knocked, you answered the door, took its hand, and held on.

“So any idea of when you’ll be assigned a Speaker?” Race asked.

“Soon—tomorrow, actually.”

He grinned. “It’s about time.” The reality show went to a commercial break, so he switched back to the serial killer bio. “What do you suppose took the Council so long to decide?”

I hadn’t realized it had taken a long time. I shifted in my chair, trying to sound like his news didn’t bother me. “I’ve no idea.”

“Yeah, my contact in administration says they’ve been debating your assignment for months.”

Race’s contact was undoubtedly his assigned Speaker, Beatrice, who worked in the statistics office—his estranged Speaker, actually. They hadn’t worked together in lifetimes, but no one had ever told me why. All I knew was that she hated him, which I could understand. Race had a way of really getting on people’s nerves, and if he were my partner, I’d insist on a desk job too. I shrugged. “Whatever.”

Race looked at his watch. “Anesthesia has taken effect by now. Let’s do this.”

Back in the kitchen, I couldn’t bring myself to look at Lenzi’s wound and instead handed Race things he needed as he stitched her up, closing my mind to the brutal images that had taken me by surprise earlier.

“You need to do this next time, Paul,” Alden said.

“Yeah! He wants to do your part, Alden, and distract the Speaker,” Race said. “Don’t ya, Junior?”

“I’d rather not volunteer to get sewed up again,” Lenzi said as Race wrapped her forearm in white gauze.

Race winked at her. “How are you feeling? Did Alden make it all better?”

She blushed and sat up. “Yeah. Thanks for sewing me up. Sorry I was a baby about it.”

Alden helped her off the counter and then picked up a glass of ice water from near the fridge. Lenzi seemed fine as she walked in front of us back to the media room.

Race plopped down on the far end of the sofa, grabbed the remote, and muted the volume on the TV. “You’re welcome, Lenzi. Stitches are no biggy. So, did you guys know that Paul’s getting his Speaker assignment tomorrow?”

Lenzi grinned and sat on the other end of the sofa, practically on top of Alden. “That’s fantastic! Do you know anything about her . . . or him yet?”

I shook my head and slid a coaster under the drink Alden had placed next to Race’s boots on the coffee table.

“Where will it happen?” Alden asked. “They usually do it at headquarters in Galveston. Since Lenzi’s and my reinstatement hearing is tomorrow, maybe we can be there for it.”

“That would be great!” Lenzi said. She picked up Alden’s glass and took a sip.

It was hard to believe it had been a month since Alden’s discontinuance hearing. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I wondered if my Speaker would be like Lenzi, willing to stand by me no matter what awful things happened. I opened my eyes to find them all staring.

“You okay?” Lenzi asked, setting the glass back on the coaster.

I nodded. “My car is still at school. Can you guys drop me off there to get it?”

“I’ll take you,” Race offered, turning the volume back up on the serial killer show.

Great.
Just what I needed: alone time with Race.

“I wonder if it will be an experienced Speaker, since this is Paul’s first cycle,” Lenzi said.

The TV screen flickered, and white streaks washed across it in horizontal waves. Race pushed some buttons on the remote, but nothing changed. He slapped it against his palm.

“It’s probably a signal problem.” I took the remote from Race before he broke it.

“No, it’s a bogeyman problem,” Lenzi said, rolling her eyes. There was no fear emanating from her, so whatever spirit she was dealing with was not posing a threat. “Beat it. I’m not open for business right now.”

The TV brightened, and what appeared to be human silhouettes writhed behind the glass.

Lenzi sighed. “Yeah, nice freak show, but I’m not helping you right now. Get lost.” She took the remote from me and pushed the power button with no result. With a huff, she strode to the TV and reached behind it, then straightened and held up the plug she had pulled from the outlet. The TV didn’t respond; the figures still undulated in the white static. Lenzi stared at the plug and then back at the TV. “Show-offs,” she grumbled. “Nice try, but no. Not today. Begone!”

The screen went black. Without plugging the TV back in, Lenzi placed the remote on the coffee table and plopped down on the sofa next to Alden. “Sorry. Just not up to it.”

Alden draped his arm over her shoulder. “I understand completely. We don’t need the points anyway. We’re still leading the region this month.”

Lenzi sighed, closed her eyes, and leaned her head on his shoulder. Their intimate, comfortable trust was evident in everything they did. When I looked over at Race, he was studying me.

“What?” I asked.

A sly grin crept across his face. “Nothing.”

But I knew there was something. Maybe he had information concerning my Speaker, since he knew about the unusual length of time my assignment had been under consideration.

“Beatrice told you something about my Speaker assignment.”

He sat back and put his arms behind his head in nonchalance.

Lenzi reached over and punched his shoulder. “Come on, Race. If you know something, spill.”

He shrugged. “I really don’t. I just know the pairing was controversial, and the guys at the top argued over it a lot. Bea said it got ugly a few times.”

My stomach dropped to my feet. Why would my assignment cause the elders to argue? Perhaps they thought I wasn’t ready. No. That seemed impossible. I’d fulfilled every requirement. Excelled at my Wilkingham education with almost perfect scores in all areas of my training. “I’ll go clean up the kitchen,” I said, anxious to get away from them.

After pitching the towels from the kitchen counter into a hamper in the laundry room, I returned to find Lenzi leaning against the refrigerator.

“It’s okay to be nervous. Being assigned a partner is a really big deal,” she said.

“Do you remember meeting Alden for the first time?” I opened a plastic bag next to Race’s kit and placed the medical instruments inside.

“You know I have no memory of my past lives.” She didn’t sound angry, but I wouldn’t have blamed her if she were. Lenzi’s lack of past-life memories was the reason for the reinstatement hearing tomorrow. Alden and Lenzi’s efforts to hide her past-life amnesia had almost resulted in his discontinuance and her resignation from the Intercessor Council.

“Sorry. I spoke without thinking.”

She shrugged. “It’s cool. I’m getting little bits and pieces of memories every now and then, but no, I don’t remember meeting Alden for the first time. I’ve been told I trained him, though, and my number is pretty low. Much lower than his, so my soul has cycled more times than his. I’m Speaker 102, and he’s Protector 438.”

That didn’t necessarily translate directly, because Protectors were lost more often than Speakers, so Protectors of comparable age would have higher numbers, but not that far apart—usually fewer than one hundred. She was many cycles older than Alden. It must have been unnerving to not remember any of her lifetimes.

“I wonder if my Speaker will be cycles older and have experience.” I hoped so.

Lenzi shrugged. “I would assume so. The IC usually pairs new members up with someone who has been left solo by discontinuance of a partner or by choice.”

“By choice like Race’s Speaker,” I said.

She nodded. “Yeah. Beatrice ditched him after only one cycle.”

“Why would she do that?” It probably wasn’t any of my business, but I knew Race would never tell me.

“Race made a mistake lifetimes ago, and she couldn’t forgive him.” She paused as if considering her words carefully. “The IC discourages romantic involvement between pairings to prevent what happened between them.”

I wanted to point out that she and Alden had obviously not heeded the IC’s advice, but decided against it. Obviously, my thoughts were transparent.

“Alden and I had worked together for lifetimes as business partners only before we made that change to our relationship. Race and Bea jumped right in, hot and heavy, and then he . . .” She fiddled with the edge of her bandage. “Well, he did what Race does. He flirts with everyone, and Bea took it personally. She filed for a desk job and has worked in the statistics office for three cycles. She’s still so mad, she hasn’t given him a release to be assigned a new Speaker.”

The cabinet door seemed as loud as a gunshot as I pushed it shut with my foot after pulling out a cleaning rag and spray cleanser. I couldn’t recall being this edgy since childhood. I wondered if my nervousness had brought on the unexpected flashback earlier. I spritzed the counter where Race had stitched Lenzi.

“You want me to do that? You shouldn’t have to clean up after us.”

“No. I’ve got this.” I was glad to have something to do. Putting things in order was calming.

I heard footsteps behind me. They were too quiet for Race and his clunky cowboy boots. It wasn’t until a blast of emotion, concern maybe, hit me that I realized it was a Speaker. It was only a short burst that ended as quickly as it came. By the time I spun around, Charles, my boss and foster father of sorts, had masked all emotion and greeted me with his usual placid demeanor.

“Rough day?” he asked, eyes skimming Lenzi’s bandage. Charles was well into his seventies—balding and gray—but his carriage was that of a much younger man. A powerful man.

“Smith is back,” Lenzi answered, getting right to the point. “He cut me up again.”

He nodded. “Any witnesses?”

She shook her head. “No . . . well, yes. It happened during class, but nobody knew what was going on. The bell rang right after he hurt me.”

“You are certain it was Smith?”

“Absolutely.”

He pulled a glass from the cabinet. “It’s highly unusual that he would venture this far from his place of death—and unexpected. I’d hoped he would be too weak to come back this cycle after his last encounter with you.”

“Yeah. Alden said the same thing.” Lenzi moved away from the refrigerator so that he could open the door.

Charles filled his glass with iced tea. “I was going to pull Paul off your case and move him and Vivienne elsewhere, but I think it best they stick with you until we know what Smith is up to.”

Vivienne.
My Speaker’s name was Vivienne! The name alone gave me chills. “Vivienne,” I tried the name out loud.

Charles turned to me and smiled. “She’s here.”

Here? In the same house?
My knees almost buckled. She was here.

Lenzi squeezed my hand. “This is awesome!”

“Well, it’s a bit irregular, but the circumstances are out of the ordinary.” He placed the glass on the counter. “I have to warn you, Paul. She’s not happy about this right now.”

Perhaps she didn’t consider me experienced enough. Maybe she had lost her Protector and didn’t want to be reassigned. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I would simply have to try my hardest to show her I was a quick learner and had studied and trained hard to be the best Protector possible. I would earn her respect.

“Would you like to meet her?” Charles asked.

From the minute I had understood what I was, I’d dreamed of this moment. I’d never tried to imagine her face or even her hair color, but I had always envisioned someone as eager to excel and achieve as I was. Someone funny and easy to work with like Lenzi. I nodded, trying not to look too eager.

Lenzi took the cleaner and rag from me and set them on the counter. “Should Alden and I leave, Charles, or can we meet her too?”

“It’s up to Paul.”

The fact my Speaker was here in the house threw me. This was not in accordance with the IC manual.

Charles’s wise eyes seemed to miss nothing as he studied me. What was I supposed to say? I shrugged. “Sure.” My voice cracked, betraying my alarm. I’d waited for this moment forever, it seemed, and now that it was here, nothing was going as I had expected.

“She’s in my office. I’ll go get her now, and she can meet all of you at once. That might be best as you’ll be working as a team until we determine how strong Smith is and what he intends.”

Smith again. I knew he was a Malevolent based in Galveston that stalked Lenzi and had for lifetimes, but that was the extent of my knowledge. “Okay.”

From what I’d read, new partners were customarily introduced in front of the full Council, so an audience was not a huge departure. It might even be better. At least Lenzi, Alden, and Race were my friends. The Council members were all ancient souls, and they scared me a little. And were I to meet her alone, I might do something silly, like reveal how excited I was to finally be assigned.

Charles gestured to the door from the kitchen, and I took a deep breath. This was it.