The Ghost Host: Episode 1 (The Ghost Host Series) Page 30
“Why can I see them?”
Echo’s voice from over by the closet door is small, but strong. “I don’t know.”
Her near-whisper draws my gaze to her. Planted in front of what I can only guess is Archer, she has an arm out to either side of her body, as if she could really stop them if they wanted to take him. Who am I to say, though? I haven’t got the foggiest about what the hell’s going on anymore. They haven’t attacked her or Archer yet, which I assume must mean something.
Still feeling shaky, I take a step forward, just to see what will happen. The nearest Devourer drifts back, but looks no less menacing than before. I start to lift my arm to, I don’t know, tell them to get the hell away from us or something, and realize I didn’t lose the talisman when the pain finally stopped. Gripped in my off hand, it feels unusually cold. It may have stopped trying to kill me, but that hardly means it turned off or whatever. A subtle pulsing of power undulates up my arm. Noticing it seems to make it come alive even more, and the Devourers take notice.
“Fledgling Keeper,” the one nearest me hisses, starling me so bad I nearly drop the damn talisman. “You cannot win against us.”
“Echo,” I say slowly, beyond freaked out now, “you can hear them, too, right?”
Her eyes widen and she shakes her head quick and fast. Her arms stretch out even more and she takes a step backward to protect Archer. That seems to amuse the Devourer in front of me. A choking, mocking laugh gurgles out of it. “The lost Keeper boy is no concern of ours. He is already well on his way to joining us.”
“What?” I blurt out. Joining them? What the hell are they talking about? I take a step back and find Agent Morton in my way. He grips my shoulder to steady me but says nothing.
Ignoring my question, the Devourer slides forward like spilled oil across a countertop. “Your grandmother may have escaped us through her trickery, but we will not lose another prize and disappoint our master.”
I don’t have time to ask any more questions. As soon as the last word slithers off its lips, the creature lunges at me. They all do. Diving away in panic, the only thought in my head is to keep them away from Echo. Whatever else happens, I can’t let them hurt her. My body slams into the hardwood floors, blasting the breath from my body, but I’m scrambling up a second later. Everyone is running then. Salt rains down everywhere I look but it isn’t doing a damn thing to stop them.
Somewhere Cerise screams. Zara launches herself into the sitting room and disappears behind a couch. Everyone is scattering, unable to see their attackers or defend themselves. Only Echo remains against the wall, though her arms have fallen and it looks like she’s now holding onto Archer rather than trying to protect him with her body. Agent Morton is beside her now, and I swear he’s staring directly at the Devourer nearest them. My plan to have them chase me isn’t working.
“I’m gonna need you to tell me where they are,” Kyran hisses from behind me. He shoves something into my hand with no explanation. “No guarantee anything I brought will work, but we have to save her.”
I nod and close my fist around whatever I’m holding. Given that I haven’t got a clue how to use whatever power or abilities I’m supposed to have, it’s no time to doubt Kyran’s questionable family beliefs. “They’re lining the hall, most of them closing in on Echo and Morton.”
It’s not like we can sneak up on them. Half a dozen are still watching my every move. They don’t seem to care much about Kyran trailing behind me, or Agent Morton standing guard over Echo. We’re their prime targets and it’s clear they don’t intend on losing.
One of the Devourers moves closer to Echo, as if it’s testing her for some kind of barrier. It reaches out, but its hand stops a few inches in front of her face. Terrified, Echo’s chest is heaving, but she doesn’t move or even blink. It seems to be Archer who lashes out at them, Echo shouting his name as a force goes crashing into the one who tried to touch her, and actually knocking him back.
Not about to ask questions, Kyran and I both leap toward Echo. She ducks away from another Devourer attack and curls herself up at the base of the wall while Agent Morton drops to cover her with his own body. I can’t imagine how he thinks that will help, but I don’t have time to ponder his methods. I launch whatever I’m holding at the nearest pack of creatures and nearly trip over my own feet in surprise when the packet bursts open and the Devourers seem to disintegrate as the smell of sage fills the air. For a second I think Kyran actually did it. Then they coalesce back to their original shape and fly into a rage.
“Try these!” Kyran yells as he shoves more packets into my hands on his way to Echo. He tosses his own as well, some going straight through the Devourers while others hit and burst open with only short-lived results. Archer is faring better than any of us. I can only tell that by the random Devourers flying into walls and ceilings.
Whatever’s in these packets isn’t killing them, but it’s at least holding them up so I toss them furiously as I sprint down the hall toward Echo. Diving at the last second to avoid a Devourer trying to take my head off, I hit the ground shoulder-first and skid into Echo and Agent Morton, toppling them like dominoes. Echo’s hands are yanking at me a second later, saving me from another attack and pulling me back against the wall.
There isn’t even a second to speak before Agent Morton hauls her away from me and a Devourer flies at us and sinks through the closet wall at our backs without getting a piece of anyone. Freaked that it could come at us from inside the closet and kill someone, I shove Echo into the middle of the hall and dive on top of her. Kyran is still launching whatever he’s got left, but I can tell from the look on his face that he’s nearly out of options and I know I have to do something.
The talisman in my hand sends a biting shot of icy cold up my arm and I groan at the pain it elicits. I glance down at it, afraid it’s going to erupt into a disabling fire again and that’s when I realize the scent of charred flesh I smelled earlier wasn’t imagined. A perfect replica of the talisman is now burned into my forearm. It sparks an insane idea, and before I can even pull it together into a coherent thought, Agent Morton growls, “Do it!”
Pressing the talisman into Echo’s hands, I shove her into Agent Morton’s arms as I stand. I don’t really know what I’m doing, but instinct is guiding me now. It’s all I’ve got left at this point. Focusing all my energy on the mark feels right. Everything inside of me, from power to anger to fear, flows to the still raw flesh and the mark blazes a fiery red.
I may have no idea what I’m doing, but the Devourers sure seem to get it. One bursts and vanishes midway through a flying attack at me as soon as it sees the mark flare. The others shriek and freeze. The only ones who don’t react are the few still doing battle with Archer. Even that slows as I can only guess Archer has finally been overpowered. Wishing I had time to help him in some way, but knowing there’s slim to no chance of me doing anything useful, I raise my arm so the creatures can all see the mark.
“Release Archer,” I snarl.
One steps forward. The same one who spoke earlier, I’m almost positive. “He’s ours,” it hisses.
“Not yet.”
That same sick laugh rises up like bubbles in tar. “Are you sure?”
It raises a hand and I flinch, thinking it means to attack me, but it doesn’t come. Instead, all I see are tendrils of oily black mist trailing from the creature’s hand and leading back to where a sudden but fruitless struggle erupts. To Archer.
It takes me a second to realize what this means. “You killed him. You’re the one who murdered Archer.”
“Stole his body,” it oozes. “Ripped it apart to nothingness. No chance of getting it back. Claimed his soul for our masters since we could not consume it.”
Claimed him. That phrase twists in my mind. Claimed him, linked him to them with that creepy tether, but he isn’t one of them yet. If I can break the tether…
Striding forward despite Echo’s plea for me to stay back, I take the last of the lingering
doubts that this is all insanity and superstition and shove them away, making room for conviction, for the bravery my great grandma asked of me, and pulling in the power she promised.
The Devourer sees it, tries to react, to stop me or run. It’s too late for that. My fist slams into its face. Shock that I don’t fly right through him like I half-expected to, despite the glowing red mark on my arm, nearly puts me off balance. I catch myself at the last second and throw up an elbow to block the creature’s parry. The force that slams into my arm is devastating. For a split second it goes limp, numb from elbow to fingertips. Flaring again, the mark shoots life back into my arm and I’m swinging again, connecting with its gut and sending it stumbling into a wall.
That’s the first moment I realize the other Devourers have bailed to the edges of the hallway. Fear pours off their disgusting forms in waves. One solitary spot of struggling pinpoints Archer’s position, but I don’t have time to do more than notice it. I’ve completely lost track of Kyran and don’t have a chance to find him. The Devourer launches himself at me again and I’m not fast enough to dodge him completely. Clipping me in the side, I spin and land face down on the floor. It’s on top of me before I can blink and the breath is knocked out of my body.
Breathing doesn’t get any easier when salt pelts me in the face, but it’s not so distracting that I don’t realize the pressure on my back has loosened. Flinging my shoulder back begins a spin. As soon as my right hand is free, I slam it into the Devourer’s neck. I doubt these things breathe, but the impact stuns it and I take the upper hand by force.
I can only imagine what I must look like to the others, rolling around on the floor, taking swings at nothing. Whether they have any idea of the tide of this fight or not, I keep swinging. Both hands connect with the Devourer despite the mark only being on my right arm. The creature claws at me, howling in frustration as its claws split my skin, but don’t free him from my grip.
It bucks violently and almost dislodges me, but a burst of power fully fueled by my hatred for this vile being sends a crushing blow straight into the side of its head. Its form flickers. Terrified of losing my hold on it, I shove my elbow against its throat and let my instincts take over once again. Vengeful fury brings my hand to the center of its chest. The Devourer’s horrified scream is all the confirmation I need.
Pressing down, sinking my fingers into its weirdly solid-yet-not-solid form, the screaming intensifies to an unearthly howl that feels like a physical force against me. Everyone has their hands on their ears, their arms wrapped around their heads, anything to shelter themselves from the destructive wave. Fear that continuing could seriously hurt someone isn’t strong enough to overpower the bone deep need to destroy this abomination.
One final thrust sinks my hand through his chest. My entire fist disappears and my fingers latch onto something I can’t explain. Physical while oddly incorporeal, this is the essence of the Devourer’s soul, and as soon as that realization hits me, I rip it out with absolutely no remorse.
Everything happens at once. As soon as my hand comes free of the Devourer’s body, the creature’s dying scream bursts from its mouth like a death curse, throwing the living into walls as a flare from my mark blinds them all with a flash of scarlet light in the same moment the Devourer’s body erupts into a bomb of suffocating black ooze.
It covers me entirely and I panic, scrambling back in terror that it will contaminate or infect me somehow. Agent Morton stops my retreat with a commanding grip on my shirt and a finger pointed at something I don’t know how to process.
36: Gone
(Echo)
There are a million things that should be commanding my attention right now, from Malachi covered in the insides of a Devourer to an unconscious Kyran slumped against the wall, but all I can focus on is the absolutely perfect image of Archer staring at me in disbelief.
He’s exactly as I remember him, but infinitely different at the same time. Frozen as a fifteen year old boy physically, his eyes bear the unfathomable pain he’s been forced to endure. He seems ageless, beyond what any human could hope to reach in life, scarred so deeply it’s reflected in what’s left of his soul, but buoyed by a deep sense of purpose and love. I stumble to my feet. Salt clenched in my fist for a useless attack rains from my fingers like the discarded bits of someone’s soul.
“Archer,” I whisper when I finally shake off my shock. Tears pour down my face. I don’t know if they’re from joy that he’s free or the harsh realization that this will be the last time I ever see him. Whatever the reason, Archer responds immediately and is at my side in an instant.
He feels different as his arms wrap around me, less solid than yesterday. Every second he holds me, more and more of him slips away and I cry harder. “Shh, it’s okay, Echo,” his voice whispers not in my head this time, but through the air like any other person in the room. “It’s okay now.”
“I can feel you leaving,” I argue, but I hold back saying that he’s leaving me, most of all.
“Part of me will always be with you, remember?” Archer says. “We’re forever linked like Kyran said.”
The lightness to his voice is so beautiful, because I can hear the joy in it, the aching desire to be free of this world and the excruciating pain it forced upon him. I want to revel in it with him, but I just can’t. That moment in Dr. Rosemond’s office when he shared the past five years with me, all the times he sat up with me at night—through tears and the moments I thought everyone was right about me—quietly comforting me, strengthening me even though I had no idea he was there. There were so many of those nights. So many times I needed him, and he never once failed me.
“I don’t know if I can do this without you.” I swipe at tears, trying to be brave for him and failing miserably.
Archer smiles and runs the back of his fingers down my cheek, his hand sinking partway through my skin. “I do know. You are strong enough to survive this, Echo. I’ve never doubted that even once.” His lips brush against my forehead, but I barely feel it and my tears fall in earnest. “Shh, it’s okay. Look at all the people you have to help you now. People who believe you and believe in you. And you have a new Keeper. You have Malachi to watch over you after I leave.”
I want to tell him that it’s not enough, that he has to stay with me, but I bite back such a selfish request because I think he might actually do it. He’s already suffered so much. All of it my fault whether he blames me or not. I can’t repay him with more of the same. What kind of thanks is that for the countless hours he stood silently by my side despite the agony of his existence? I have nothing worth giving as payment for his love other than to let him go.
“Will you be okay?” I ask, forcing back another round of tears.
Nodding, Archer smiles. “I’ll be fine.” Heat flashes in his eyes as he leans in close and tightens his failing grip on me. “I’ll wait for you,” he whispers. His lips don’t quite press against my skin, but I feel it all the same.
Slowly, Archer straightens and his gaze slips past me, but I can’t look away from him. To Malachi he says, “Take care of her. Keep her safe, please.”
It’s only then that I look back. I almost gasp at the sight of him, bloody and covered in ghostly entrails, even though I saw him in the exact same state a few minutes ago. Confusion lines his features, but he nods to Archer’s request. “I’ll keep her safe, I promise.”
There’s something different in his eyes, but before I can really ponder it Archer redirects my attention. “Be strong, Echo. Be brave. Survive, okay? Don’t let them win. Don’t let them take you away from me, please,” he begs. His expression breaks, letting through what leaving me behind is really doing to him.
“I will,” I say. “I will. I’ll make them pay for what they did to you.”
Archer shakes his head. “It’s not about revenge. It’s about saving all the others, saving yourself. That’s all I need.”
Not wanting to rip every last Devourer apart is impossible, but I nod, promisi
ng him I won’t let my desire to make them suffer derail what I’m supposed to be doing. “I love you,” I whisper as I follow Malachi’s example and sever the link to Archer I’ve been subconsciously holding onto for five year. It’s not as dramatic as what he did, just a bundle of energy gathered from my soul and released like a breath held for too long.
He smiles as he feels me release him, but the corner of his mouth trembles as he tries to hold it steady. “I love you, too. I always will, Repeat.”
Slipping away from me, what’s left of his soul dissolves into the ether. I don’t know what happens to ghosts when they crossover, but I know beyond any doubt that he’ll keep his promise and wait for me wherever he’s gone.
37: Tune In
(Echo)
All I want to do in that moment is curl up in a ball and cry, but that would be breaking a promise. Turning around in a daze, I stare at the scene in front of me. Kyran is groaning, but conscious again, and everyone else looks largely unharmed if not seriously disheveled. Malachi is the only one who looks like he needs a doctor. My shock at his appearance hasn’t lessened from a few seconds ago, and it’s enough to break through to me.
“Malachi,” I cry out as I rush to him, slipping in the Devourer mess on the way and nearly landing in it.
He grabs my arm before I fall, but flinches at the movement. Not wanting to hurt him any more than he already is, I reach for Agent Morton and get out of the ick to inspect Malachi. Rivulets of blood are running down his arms amid the sticky black filth. I can’t even begin to figure out how bad his injuries are. My hands hover over his arms, afraid to touch anything.
“You need an ambulance,” I say, panic rising in my voice.