Spiritbound Page 17

  ‘Keep quiet. Stand still.’ Elvira leaned forward and planted a kiss on her forehead and then wiped Grace’s tears off. ‘This will feel strange.’

  The air in Grace’s lungs froze. She dared not draw breath. Her skin burned like pins and needles, amplified a thousand times. Her mind screamed. The world melted around her but she had to keep very still. It seemed to take forever and then the world solidified. Her breath surged out. Her skin tingled. She was in a different place. She stood outside a large building with doors that swung open as if inviting her in. Through the doors she found people mingling, people in wheelchairs with drips attached, or people wearing bandages. Walking further in, she found the reception desk. ‘May I help you?’ said a woman in a dull uniform and glasses on the end of her nose.

  ‘Yes, I’m looking for Declan Mallory. A bike accident. Can you tell me where to find him?’

  She checked the screen. ‘Are you a relative?’

  ‘I’m his wife. I’ve just arrived. I got here as soon as I could.’

  The receptionist nodded. ‘He’s in intensive care.’ She pulled out a little map. ‘Follow these arrows.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Grace took the little map and followed the directions. With her witch sense she was seeking out Declan. Her mind touched two other folk in the building. One was a doctor and another a nurse. Folk who served humans. How odd. Grace chewed her lip as she took the lift to intensive care. She couldn’t detect Declan at all. Goddess, let him be alive, she prayed. Let him not be gone already.

  Worry creased her forehead. The coven had expended a lot of power to send her there but there was a limit to what she could do. She wanted to be here because she loved Declan. If there were some small thing she could do then she would do it. She sniffed, thinking about his parents asking for her. They must be desperate. Actually, they might recognise her talents.

  The intensive care had a front desk. Grace had to wait while the woman behind it talked on the phone and typed information into her computer.

  ‘May I help?’ she asked. Grace ceased jumping from foot to foot.

  After Grace explained why she was there, the nurse took down her particulars. Lucky, she knew Declan’s home address and the name of his parents. When the woman was satisfied she buzzed through to the ward.

  ‘Go through that door. A nurse will meet you and take you through to him.’

  Grace thanked her and the other woman gave a tentative smile, one that said, It’s bad. He’s going to die. Grace argued with herself as she walked up the glossy beige hallway. Declan had a room of his own, she saw, as she walked through.

  He lay on a bed, a monitor beeping above his head, wires snaking out of him into other monitors and a tube down his throat to help him breathe. Her heart leaped into her throat and she had to fight back tears. ‘Declan?’

  The nurse checked the monitors and wrote on his chart, while Grace drew close to the bed.

  There was nothing from him. No sense of his presence. A doctor walked in, greeted her and then went to check the monitors. ‘You are his wife?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes. How bad is it?’

  ‘As bad as it can be.’ He checked Declan’s eyes with a small torch. ‘But we haven’t given up yet.’

  Grace gently caressed one of Declan’s fingers. Half his face was bruised and scraped. His leg had a tent over it. ‘What is the damage?’

  ‘Concussion, contusions. We had to operate on his leg but we think it will be all right.’

  The nurse asked if she could take a break and after a nod from the doctor, left the room.

  The doctor pulled back the sheet to further examine Declan’s body. His ribs were stippled with purple and red. Grace sucked in a breath, her fingers brushing against Declan’s brow. She closed her eyes and sent her talent into him, seeking something to cling onto.

  Declan? Declan!

  There was nothing. If she were going to find him, she’d have to go deeper. According to the machines, he was alive.

  On opening her eyes, she found the doctor staring at her. ‘You’re one of the folk, aren’t you?’ he said in a soft voice.

  She swung around. They were alone. The nurse was gone.

  Grace gathered her wits and reached out. This was one of the folk she’d sensed earlier. ‘Yes. You’re from the northern coven?’

  He shook his head. ‘No coven. A loner. I prefer human ways.’

  Grace lifted her chin, indicating Declan. ‘Will the human way save him?’

  The doctor studied Declan’s face. ‘I don’t know. I didn’t realise he was one of the folk as his life energy is so low. Are you really his wife?’

  Grace lifted her mouth in a half-smile. ‘That’s such a loaded question. I love him with all my heart. I’d be his mate if he’d have me. Just this morning he gave me a sweet unproposal. We’ve been friends since childhood.’

  ‘I understand you have a bond. My name is Lyle Wentz, by the way.’

  ‘Nice to meet you. I’m Grace, from the Sydney coven.’

  ‘So what are you going to do?’ he asked. ‘The nurse is on a break so we have a short time.’

  ‘That’s the problem. I don’t know. The coven sent me, but the one talent I have I can’t use.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I’m a necromancer.’

  Lyle’s head jerked up. ‘They don’t come up often.’

  ‘Tell me about it.’

  She stroked Declan’s forehead once more, leaning down to brush her lips against the unbruised portion.

  ‘You may not be able to bring him back from the dead, but…well…could you hold him in life until he is over the crisis?’

  ‘What’s the crisis?’

  ‘Brain swelling. There’s a bleed in there and it’s stopped already but the brain swells and that’s what’s dangerous. It could stop his breathing.’

  ‘Won’t that damage his brain too? The swelling, I mean.’

  ‘Yes, there is a possibility, but with human medicine and your magic, we could help him, minimise the damage.’

  ‘Could?’

  ‘He may not want to live.’

  Grace concentrated on Declan’s face and thought of their words that morning. He may have been confused about what he wanted to do with his life, but there was a sense of purpose in him and a joy for life. There was no way Declan wanted to walk away. ‘No, I can’t believe that. What about his spine?’

  ‘Not injured, which in itself is a miracle. Now that I know he’s one of the folk, I realise his talent must have protected him. The truck driver died in the accident. Declan’s bike was flattened, yet he’s relatively intact. His leg will heal in time. Actually, fast, with folk healing. With determination he’ll be back on his bike again, pretty soon.’

  ‘Okay. I can hold him here. Can you manage the staff?’

  ‘I’ll make sure they let you keep vigil. Just don’t doing anything too flamboyant.’

  Grace nodded.

  Lyle left her alone. The machines beeped rhythmically. Grace let herself be lulled by the sound. It helped her sync with Declan. The nurse came back in, but said nothing. She sat on a stool and tended tubes and turned Declan as best she could, given his injuries.

  Grace inserted her witch sense into his mind. It was an empty landscape. No trace of his golden, glowing presence. She’d have to go deeper, taking care not to cross over to the other side. That could be dangerous for her and if Declan had passed over, she wasn’t permitted to bring him back.

  Lower down into his consciousness she found a thin web of his golden essence. Faint but there. She had to urge him back. Her essence spread out in thin tendrils, seeking to touch parts of Declan’s web. Nothing happened. Grace chewed her bottom lip. What could she do? He was alive but sinking fast, as if he were leaking away. Desperate and in untried waters, she drew on her own strength and sent it through the fine filaments she had seeking Declan.

  Declan. It’s me, Grace. Don’t leave me. Please.

  No response. She fed more of herself into Decl
an. Let her love for him swell inside her. Her light began to glow around her sense of self. Digging deep into her own reserves meant there was no power for her to screen her emotions from Declan. This was a deep share, deeper than any other. Her love for him came spilling out. Her laughter and joy at being with him. Memories of making love with him tumbled over themselves. I’d give my life for you, Declan Mallory.

  Grace was on dangerous ground now. She’d fed so much of herself into Declan that she’d lost her sense of self. She had to back away slowly, take herself out of Declan or he could take her with him.

  Please, Declan. Fight. Live. Love.

  A flicker of something tickled her mind. The threads of Declan’s essence were brighter, growing thicker. He was still there. No longer leaving, his essence began to brighten. The thin thread Grace had maintained to her own body thickened.

  A breath drew into her lungs and then she exhaled. She was in touch with herself once more. Declan continued to grow stronger. He was not conscious as far as she could tell but he was not on the verge of death. The doctor said she needed to be with him through the crisis. She hoped Lyle would tell her when that would be. Grace’s arms and legs were as lead. Her mind was fatigued. She had to shake herself to keep her mind focused and she hung on with dogged determination. There was no sense of time. She was aware of the nurse working around her, of her tending to Declan. The noise of the machines intruded once again. Declan’s essence was about half its usual strength, but it was there. He was there.

  ‘Grace?’ It was the doctor’s voice. ‘He’s over the worst now. You can relax.’

  She heard him. Drawing in a breath, she shuddered once and slid out of Declan’s mind. The doctor held up a coffee. ‘Here you go. It’s been twelve hours.’

  Grace couldn’t hold the coffee, her hands shook so hard. The doctor tipped it up to her mouth for her. The nurse gave them a strange look. Grace took a few more sips.

  The door swung open. Delores and Rohan Mallory walked in. Grace stood up.

  ‘Is he?’

  ‘He’s alive,’ Grace said, before the world turned sideways. The doctor grabbed her before she fell, spilling the coffee all over them. Lucky it wasn’t hot. Grace didn’t take in much of anything else in. She fainted.

  A few hours later, she woke up in a darkened room, lying on a gurney. She didn’t get up. Couldn’t get up. Her legs were numb trunks and her arms uncoordinated floppy appendages that refused to obey her commands. Had she been drugged?

  Lyle came in with a tray. ‘No, you’re not drugged. You’re drained. When I suggested you hold him here during the crisis, I didn’t mean for you to pump all your life force into him.’

  ‘Is that what I did?’

  He nodded as he put the tray down. ‘Yes. Can you sit up some more?’ He adjusted the pillows. ‘This is where I nap during breaks in long shifts. It’s not the Ritz Carlton, but it’s better than the floor.’

  ‘Can you hold this coffee?’

  Grace did her best and then shook her head. Lyle tilted the cup so she could sip it. ‘How is he?’

  ‘Better. The brain swelling is going down. Another week, he should be over it and ready to go to the ward. Although home is more likely. His parents don’t like the hospital. They want to care for him themselves or have their own healer do it.’

  Grace took another sip. ‘Is that food?’

  ‘A banana. You up for this?’ He held it up.

  Grace nodded. ‘Yes, please.’

  He peeled it for her and held it out. She bit down, chewed and then swallowed. The food and coffee were having a marked improvement. Her head had stopped spinning.

  ‘Your mother is here. She has come to take you home by car. When I’m satisfied you are restored enough for the trip I’ll wheel you down.’

  ‘Don’t you have other patients?’

  ‘Yes, of course I do. But I’m off-duty now.’

  ‘Oh.’ Grace ran her fingers through her hair, realising she must look a fright. Lyle had dark green eyes and they were at that moment studying her. ‘Is there something wrong?’ she asked.

  He shook his blond head. ‘No, just thinking that Declan is a lucky man, lucky warlock, I should say. You’re a special witch, Grace Riordon.’

  Her mouth dropped open. ‘How did you know my full name?’

  He leaned his back against the wall and smirked. ‘Your mother told me, and where to find you if I’m so inclined. No more banana?’ He wiggled it back and forth.

  ‘No, I’m done. Mother didn’t invite you for dinner, did she? Mention a single witch at our house?’

  Lyle chuckled. ‘Come to think of it, she did. But I had to tell her I’m married with two kids.’

  Grace laughed. ‘I bet that pulled her up short.’

  He nodded absently, as if remembering the scene. ‘I believe it did. Now wait there, I’m wheeling you downstairs.’

  A few minutes later he returned with a wheelchair. ‘I really don’t need this.’ She paused, feeling better, but her limbs were not very responsive. ‘Okay, maybe I do.’

  ‘Humour me.’ He assisted her into the wheelchair. ‘No more necromancy for a while. Okay?’

  ‘So is your wife human?’ she asked as he wheeled her into the corridor.

  ‘Yes. So was my mother.’

  They bumped into the lift doors. Lyle wasn’t a good driver. ‘You don’t push wheelchairs much, do you?’

  ‘No, but you’ll arrive in one piece, I promise. Now, I want you to go home and rest. You need to eat lots of fresh vegetables and fruit. Wholesome food to restore your life force. Declan is on the mend and out of danger thanks to you. Let me help him now and I’ll even mind the parents.’

  The lift whooshed open. In a short time, Grace could see Elvira with Robertson, one of the other councillors. Her mother didn’t smile, but Grace detected the sweep of her mother’s witch sense checking that she was okay. Grace waved to Robertson. He blushed deeply. He was a rather shy warlock, and probably a bit afraid of her mother. Come to think of it, afraid of her too.

  ‘Thank you, young man. You know how to get in touch with me now. I expect updates on Declan’s condition.

  Lyle agreed, then with a wink at Grace he sauntered off, soon lost in the throng of people heading to lifts or medical appointments.

  ‘Come on, dear. We’ll take you home. Robertson, here, drove. I was too distracted.’

  After a nod from Elvira, Robertson grabbed her wheelchair and began to wend his way through people out to the door. He’d parked in the no standing zone. There was a parking inspector issuing tickets, but none were on his car. Grace grinned. Cheeky warlock.

  With a last forlorn look at the hospital and her empty wheelchair on the pavement, Grace said a silent goodbye to Declan. She had no idea if he would ever know the part she’d played in his survival.

  Chapter Ten

  After two weeks in bed recuperating and being plied with her mother’s concoctions, listening to Elena’s descriptions of her latest craft project and Fel’s annoying anecdotes, Grace was allowed out of her room. News had reached them of Declan’s progress. After Dr Wentz deemed him well enough, his parents had him transferred to the Blue Mountains and into Beatrice the healer’s care.

  Grace continued her life as usual, except for the empty spot where Declan had been. There were no messages from him and no communication from his parents. It was if he’d ridden off that day and hadn’t come back. The trip to the hospital, her joining her essence with his, faded to distant memory.

  On the sofa Grace sat alone, stroking Fel’s filmy substance absently as she watched how the light changed outside as the sun went down.

  Scratch? Fel stuck its muzzle into her face.

  Automatically, Grace obeyed Fel’s request, using her fingers to ease Fel’s itchy bits. Though how a dead cat could feel it was beyond her understanding.

  A glass of red wine appeared in front of her. Startled, she looked up. ‘Elena. I didn’t know you were home.’ She took the glass and shuffled ove
r to make room.

  Fel meowed indignantly and sauntered away.

  ‘My class was cancelled.’ Elena fetched a glass for herself and then snuggled next to Grace. ‘Cheers.’ Elena touched her glass to Grace’s. ‘You’re sad. I don’t like seeing it.’

  Grace tossed back some of the wine. ‘Not sad, but low. I’m a little low, energy wise, heart wise, mind wise.’

  ‘Elvira said it will take time to recover. What you did was remarkable. She told me that if she’d been with you, she wouldn’t have let you expend so much of yourself to save him.’

  ‘I did what anyone would have done.’

  Elena shook her head. ‘Not anyone. Elvira said there hasn’t been a talent like yours for fifty years at least. She said you saved his mother and then him.’

  A smile spread across her face. ‘She’s my mother. Of course she’s going to say nice things about me. It’s what mothers do.’

  Elena’s arm snaked across her shoulders. ‘You think that, darling Grace, if it makes you feel better.’

  With her wine finished, Grace climbed to her feet and refilled their glasses. A slight dizziness hit. A half glass of wine didn’t normal affect her like that. She tipped some more wine into their glasses and then sipped hers slowly. It was a mild evening and the trees were now shadows. Elena played with her hair and talked softly.

  While they chatted, Fel begged for a cuddle first from Elena and then Grace, until it ultimately curled up on the arm of the sofa, content to just be, even if it was a ghostly being.

  Elvira was out for the evening. ‘New man,’ Elena whispered conspiratorially as if her mother would overhear and think it disrespectful.

  ‘Go her. I have my hand vibrator to keep me company.’

  Elena laughed so hard she fell off the sofa.

  ‘What? Don’t you use one? Mine’s called Randy Roger.’ Grace looked on while Elena rolled around the floor, laughing so hard she cried.

  Grace rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. ‘Obviously, you need to do more work to get in touch with your inner rhythms. Sex is natural and now that I know just the thought of one sends you into a fit of giggles, I’m going to buy you one and lend you a book.’