The Next Chance Page 6

  Noah closed his eyes and counted to three. He wanted to feel his mind clear. It didn’t. He felt even more enraged.

  Yes. If he destroyed the people who stood in the way of the demons, there would be no war. There would be peace.

  He flicked his eyes to look at Ian. He would be possessed in a few years. Maybe if Noah could push away his spirit group, Ian would be possessed sooner and everything would be right.

  Yes. That would work but he didn’t know how to deal with Ian’s spirit group.

  He could feel some part of him fighting, yelling that he not listen to the voice. That part of him was stupid. He was there to stop the war. If he killed the most prominent members of the resistance, everything would fall into place very easily.

  THIRTEEN

  My chest felt tight. My head felt foggy. My mouth felt cottony. I was not a fan.

  I shifted a little, letting out a gasp of pain as I did. Despite the drugs they had me on, every movement was agonizing. Even breathing was painful.

  My dad leaned closer, his face as haggard as I felt. “What’s wrong? Can I get you anything?” he asked in a rush, his hands clasped as though in prayer.

  I shifted my eyes to look at him, doing my best not to move anything other than my eyes. “Where’s Ian?” I croaked, my throat aching from the breathing tube.

  Dad glanced toward Quinn, a small smile on his face. “He’s been having a hard time. We were worried about him, so we sent him home.”

  Daw chuckled. “Not true. Quinn ordered him out. She threatened him with me and Dawson dragging him out if he didn’t go,” he said, resting his hands on the rail of the bed. “It was bad, Madison. He really did need the rest and he seriously needed a shower.”

  I tried to scowl at them for being jerks to Ian. My mind was too dazed by the mix of drugs and pain. My brain felt like it was on a tilt-a-whirl. It showed me images of how Ian would have looked. It showed me his anguish over and over.

  I was relieved that Quinn had tried to make him take care of himself. I was also aggravated with her. If she had left him alone, he would have been there with me. And they were making a joke of his suffering?

  I simply had no energy to do anything more than lay there and blink. Good thing I had chosen to come back to my body. I wasn’t useless at all. Nope.

  At least in those coma dreams, Ian had been there. I had felt the love of my family and also felt safe. It was true, I did feel my family’s love in that hospital room. Safe was beyond my reach, though.

  Daw leaned his elbows on the rail, his eyes fixed on Dad. “Making jokes about Ian probably isn’t making our Madison very happy. Maybe we should talk about algorithms or codes or something.” He shot me a snide smirk. “I don’t know anything about algorithms or codes, though.”

  I blinked, not really registering what he’d said. I kind of wanted to go back to sleep. I also didn’t want to. There had been enough sleeping.

  They’d said I’d been in a coma for eight days. They had also told me some of what had happened during that time. The world was in chaos.

  The fact it was because of my decision weighed heavily on me. I wanted to jump up, to fix my mistakes. There would be no jumping in my near future.

  I breathed as shallowly as possible but it still moved my chest and every movement felt like a knife had been plunged into my chest. I wanted to hit the button to give myself more pain medication. My brain was already lethargic, though. I didn’t want to imagine what it would be like with more drugs.

  Quinn stood up, nudging Daw out of the way as she stood close to the head of my bed. “I have something for you,” she said, lifting the thing she’d been messing with for the last few hours.

  Before she could speak, a knock sounded on the door and it was opened by a middle-aged guy. The guy was slim to the point of gauntness, with buggy eyes, and thinning hair. He looked similar to a rodent, yet there was something about him that made me trust him.

  Maybe it was the way he looked at me. Maybe it was the smile on his homely face. I had no idea. I was positive that he was there to help in whatever way he could.

  “I can help you,” he said without preamble, stepping over to crowd in next to the bed with everybody else.

  I blinked, waiting to hear what he had to say.

  He gave me a kind smile, showing yellowed teeth that were very crooked. “I have power over pain,” he told me, his eyes bright as he spoke. “I can’t heal. All I can do is take away pain. The PSA took me several years ago and made me work with their scientists.” He swallowed like a lump had risen in his throat. “You freed us from them. I will always be in your debt.”

  I gaped at the guy. Yes, I had made a mistake in agreeing to open the portal to hell. It had not been a mistake to free the people who had been bound to the PSA. That guy was one more proof of how rotten that group had been.

  “There is no debt,” I whispered, afraid of the idea of being happy about what I had done.

  He smiled, reaching out slowly to rest his hand over the wound in my chest. “You need to remember, pain is there for a reason. It’s a warning that something is wrong. When I take your pain away, you will have to be very careful about not overdoing it. You still have a long way to go before you’re healed,” he warned me, his hand glowing green.

  As that glow made contact, a wave of pure vitality passed over me. I felt, not exactly normal, but not a broken lump of a person anymore. It was the most amazing feeling I’d ever encountered.

  Even after experiencing Spencer and Gabe’s magic, that guy’s power was astonishing. I felt like a million bucks . . . or at least a quarter of a million.

  He kept his hand where it was, shaking his head as he looked hard into my eyes. “You need to be careful. Please remember that. You are not healed.”

  I smiled at him. “I’ll be careful. Thank you so much. I feel human again,” I said, feeling no pain as breath passed through my lungs.

  He nodded and turned toward the door. “The pain will return. In a few days. I’ll come back,” he said, lifting his hand in a wave before anything more could be said.

  I stared at the door, startled to realize I didn’t even know the guy’s name. That was moronic. I should have asked his name. I most definitely owed that guy a fruit basket.

  FOURTEEN

  “Noah?” Ian asked as they pulled into the parking area for a Chinese restaurant.

  He didn’t look at the man. He simply sat, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. He would have to kill both of his parents at the same time because killing one of them would make him cease to exist.

  Noah knew that if he looked Ian in the eye, his black eyes would be visible. He was sure they were black. There was no way he could be human even though the salt and holy water didn’t bother him.

  The voice in the back of his mind continued to speak. It told him to remain quiet. It told him to kill. It told him many things.

  “Hey, pal. Come on,” Ian said, getting out of the driver’s seat, his eyes still fixed on Noah.

  He unbuckled and scooted across the back seat to get out on the opposite side Ian was on. He had to stay as far as he could from the man. He had to be very careful. The voice told him so.

  Ian raised his brows, his mouth opening slightly. “Noah, what--”

  Noah acted fast. Ian must have seen his eyes, so he needed to slow him down. He had to get inside the PSA, find Madison, and make sure both of them died that day. It was the only way.

  He turned the laser to its highest setting and pointed it at Ian’s chest. He couldn’t kill him yet. He had to wait until the two were together. All he had to do was slow Ian down.

  Ian didn’t flinch back in fear. What he did was meet Noah’s eyes full on. “Noah, I’m not your enemy. You and I are on the same side.”

  He’s not on your side, son. I am. I am the only one who will ever understand you.

  Noah’s hand quivered. The part of his mind that wanted him to stop surged forward. The darkness fought it back again. Ian WAS h
is enemy. He didn’t know why. He only knew it was true.

  Ian stood calmly, his expression impassive. “Remember how you said you wanted to meet Maddie? Your mom and I grew up together. She was my little sister’s best friend. I used to tease her about pretty much everything, just because I wanted to see the half exasperated, half amused look on her face.” He nodded a tiny bit. “I’ve seen the same look on your face a few times today. You’re a lot like her. You’re smarter than everyone around you but you’re not arrogant about it. You just know how intelligent you are. That’s a very good thing, Noah.”

  He blinked, feeling the coldness that had been pulsing through him ease back. Ian was not a danger . . . right then. He was a good man and the voice in his head was not good.

  Neither are you, son.

  Noah blanched a little as he realized how right the voice was. He was not good. There was something wrong with him. He was a monster.

  He sniffled, embarrassed as tears rose in his eyes. One spilled over, then another, and another. And he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Ian’s waist.

  Ian didn’t hesitate. He laid his hand on Noah’s back, his other on the back of his head. “It’s okay, pal. I get it. Lanac’s been speaking to me too. He’s convincing, isn’t he?” he asked rhetorically, ruffling Noah’s hair a little.

  He pulled back, wiping his tears away with the back of his hand. “I’m super sorry. It’s just . . . there’s something wrong with me,” he admitted, his eyes fixed on the ground.

  “No, there’s not, Noah,” Ian said, resting his hand on Noah’s shoulder. “Whatever is going on around us, we’re going to be okay. You came back to make sure that would happen. There is no doubt in my mind.”

  Noah smiled, suddenly feeling sure Ian was right. He had come back to stop the demon uprising. That had to mean something.

  Good or bad, he was doing what was right. And Quinn trusted him too. He could do this.

  He extended his hand, offering Ian the laser pointer. “You should hold this just in case. It’s on the demon setting but it’ll hurt anybody.”

  Ian shook his head, nudging his chin toward the restaurant. “It’s safer with you, Noah,” he said, his eyes narrowed slightly as they began to walk. “What do you mean it’s on the demon setting?”

  Noah smirked. “It’s kind of like throwing salt,” he said, pointing the laser at the building and giving one quick pulse of that intense light.

  As he did, a symbol appeared on the wall. It was similar to a snowflake, though was a protection against evil. The laser had burned the symbol into the wall.

  Ian’s smile grew wide. “The helm of awe.” He patted Noah on the shoulder again. “You really are too smart for your own good.”

  Noah shrugged. “Quinn says that all the time but I only know what she taught me and what I figured out.”

  Ian raised his brows. “You’re proving my point, pal,” he said, lowering his voice as they walked into the restaurant. “There are a lot of things I learned in school that I don’t even remember anymore. The fact you’re taking what you’ve learned from Quinn and applying it to your life in ways that can save lives . . . that is real intelligence. It’s also heroic.”

  Noah shrugged, not feeling particularly heroic. What he felt was nervous. He was walking into the lair of his enemy, the same enemy who had almost convinced him to murder his parents.

  He drew in a long, deep breath, counted to three, and built a wall inside his mind. He would not let the voice of the demon through. He would make sure his parents were safe, not only to save himself but because it was the right thing to do.

  FIFTEEN

  I knew better than to move around, yet it was hard to remember. The lack of pain was such an amazing feeling. The fact the drugs had faded from my system was the thing that made me feel even better.

  Being unable to think clearly had been far more difficult even than the pain. I was used to things making sense. Having that taken away from me had been horrible.

  Now that I could think, nothing felt quite as bad as it had. The thing that truly made things seem right was what Quinn had given to me.

  She had been fiddling with something most of the day. When the pain reliever guy had left, she’d given it to me. It turned out, what she had made was a headset that gave a holographic display of the internet. It was controlled by nothing more than the movements of my eyes. It had only taken me a few minutes to figure out how the system worked and it had made being in that bed a lot easier to handle.

  I blinked, flicking my eyes slightly down which made the blog post I’d been reading scan downward. It talked in vivid detail about everything that had happened in the last eight days. It told the stories of the things people had suffered at the hands of the demons.

  What it did was to humanize the suffering. It told the stories without pulling punches, giving the truth to anyone who was willing to read. And it did indeed tell the truth.

  Hundreds of people had died in the last week. Possessions were documented down to the last detail. And theories were discussed of how and why it was all happening.

  None of the theories listed me personally. A paranormal investigator was listed as being a possible factor in the equation, though. There were other hypotheses that were nothing more than bilge. All in all, it was a very well written blog.

  I was so impressed by the time I’d finished reading, it made me wonder who the blogger was. I clicked on the info page and my mouth fell open. Hadley Novak was the writer.

  I blinked twice, winking one eye, then the other to get the process started. I didn’t think I was using the thing the way Quinn had intended. That didn’t matter. I had to know the truth.

  And the truth hit me upside the head. Hadley Novak was listed as ‘in a relationship’ with Daw Turner. She was also listed as a blogger who worked with Keats Driscoll.

  I should have guessed it. Keats had been trying to tell the world about the ‘paranormal epidemic’, as he called it, for years. What he must have done was to use Hadley’s trauma to con her into writing the stories he wanted to tell. I was going to break his face for that.

  Okay, so it might be a while before I’d be able to break his face. I would have to come up with a plan. The thing was, Daw had told me he was dating Hadley right before we’d gone into the PSA the week before. Did he know she was being conned by Keats?

  I looked around the room, eager to see what he knew. He wasn’t there, though. I had forgotten. Quinn had taken Dad to get a cup of coffee and Daw had gone off to do something else. Spencer and Imogen were around but not in my room. Oh, right.

  I had become so occupied by the blog, I had forgotten that a nurse had come in to check my vitals and kicked everybody else out. She claimed it had been for MY privacy. I had a feeling it was more irritation at how crowded the room was.

  So for the first time in a long time, I was alone. A shiver worked its way up the back of my neck. What if Sheenan came back? What if he realized he hadn’t killed me and came to finish me off?

  I had no weapons. I could hardly move anyway. I was a sitting duck.

  My eyes flicked toward the door, fear taking up residence in my chest. I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live. I wanted to fix my mistake and see Ian and live happily ever after.

  If there was one thing being shot had taught me, it was never to take for granted anything or anyone in my life. And there was so much in my life. Friends. Family. Love. A job I loved. A purpose. I would not allow myself to undervalue them . . . ever.

  I would force myself to become demonstrative. There would be no shying away from hugs or hiding in my apartment with my laptop. I would go out and see the world I had almost been taken away from. After we’d fixed it, that is.

  I blinked my way back into the holographic ocular apparatus and went back to my research. I needed to know what was going on in the world so that maybe whatever the demon’s plan was, could be thwarted. Maybe.

  With a few winks and blinks, I had set up a map of the world
with a red dot over every major attack that was in the news. I was sure there were far more attacks out there that hadn’t been reported. I had to go with what I had, though.

  As I read through all the news stories, it became clear that the demons I had released into the world had brought other demons and creatures with them. There were so many attacks. They seemed to radiate outward to several major cities all over the world.

  Pittsburgh was centrally located. It wasn’t the center of the country. It was center mass of the world. Allowing the demons out here had allowed them to easily get anywhere and everywhere rather easily.

  As I looked at the damage that had already been done, it was obvious every attack had been strategic. Each city that was hit hardest was one where I had already mapped out increased paranormal activity. What did that mean, though?

  I continued mapping things out and reading the news as I lay there. I had tried to contact Ian. It turned out that part of the new curfew included communication. The only calls that could be made after curfew were to the police.

  How changes of that magnitude had been set up in only a week, I had no idea. The government had literally locked people down.

  I winked, flicking my eyes slightly to the left to start a new search when a figure appeared in the doorway of my room. I almost ignored it. There was so much I needed to concentrate on. For some reason, though, my eyes were drawn to the door.

  Every time my eyes met those Caribbean blue ones, my heart skipped a beat. And oh, it did indeed skip, hop, and dance. Ian. He was there.

  His mouth went slack when he saw me, his eyes filling with tears. He rushed into the room and rested his hands on the rail of the bed, staring hard into my eyes. He had seen my soul and seemed to love what he saw.

  “Maddie! You’re awake. Are you okay?” he asked in a rush, his voice slightly higher in pitch than usual.

  I moved my arm slowly, trying not to do any further damage to myself. When he saw what I was doing, Ian took my hand, leaning down to press his lips to my knuckles. He didn’t seem quite sure it was really me like it might be a dream.