“Good! Then I’m sticking with you.”
Whether I liked it or not, it appeared I had a sidekick. Or something like that. “It may take a while to track these guys down,” I said. “I can start on that. Could you get started deciphering yesterday’s recording?”
“Oh, crap! I forgot to send it to you. I knew I’d forgotten something.” He looked abashed. “I’ll get it done today. I still haven’t figured out what language it is—if it is a language.”
“Don’t worry about it. Once you get it to me, I’ll have a friend of mine work on it too. It’ll go faster that way.”
Stymak nodded. “All right. I’ll stay with Julianne for a while and then head back to my place to work on the file. She usually gets pretty quiet in the middle of the day.”
“Maybe she’s exhausted by then.”
“Could be. . . .”
I turned back to Lily Goss and Eva Wrothen, who had settled down near the bed. Julianne was apparently asleep—or whatever one called the state she was in. Wrothen kept shooting me furtive glances. I wondered what she thought I was going to do. Maybe she’d noticed my tendency to become a bit see-through when I dropped toward the Grey. Most people ignore it, but those who do notice are often a little freaked out at the sight. I hadn’t been too hard on her . . . had I?
I frowned and turned my attention back to Stymak.
“All right, if we’re going to work on this together, you stay here and observe Julianne or work with the ghosts—you know better what’s yielding information in this situation than I do. And be very careful—I don’t want you to have another problem with a ghost trying to harm you. I’ll get started finding those other patients. Send me the audio files as soon as you can and I’ll send you the information I dig up. When we’re both up to speed, we can get together and decide how to proceed.”
Stymak nodded. I started to leave, pausing for a moment by the bed. The dark shape that had descended over Julianne wavered and heaved like a sail in a gusty wind and as I listened, it sighed and groaned, “Leave, leave, leave . . .” No one else seemed to have heard. I wanted to touch the dark form and see if I could communicate with it, but I was afraid the motion might seem sinister to Goss and Wrothen.
“Ms. Goss,” I began, then turned my gaze to include the nurse. “Ms. Wrothen, would you mind if I touched Julianne?”
Wrothen scowled. “In what way?”
“Just my hand on her hand.”
Wrothen looked at Goss, who bit her lip but nodded assent.
I drew as close to the bed as machines and rails would allow and reached out to take Julianne’s left hand. The first thing I felt was wet paint and I realized she’d been using that hand to paint with. Then I felt a cold jolt that traveled up my arm and zinged across the back of my eyes, warping my vision into a static-filled haze of darkness shattered by jagged curtains of shifting colors. The shock stole my breath and I gasped, taking in air gone ice-sharp. There was no summer here. The darkness hovering over Julianne lashed at me with thin whips of silver mist that left a howling despair and anger behind as they passed through my flesh. “This is mine! Go away!” They weren’t so much words as they were the strongest mental impression of a shout.
I held out for a moment against the pressure, pain, and cold, trying to see the shape of whatever held sway over the body of Julianne Goss, but all I could make out with either eye was a dull, unbroken blackness that cloaked her form like a drenched blanket. No more enlightened than I had been before, I broke the connection and pulled my hand away from hers, easing back from the edge of the Grey.
The two women beside me stared at me with expectant expressions—Lily’s more hopeful than Wrothen’s.
“What did you see?” Lily asked, hesitating as if she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer.
“Just darkness.”
“Is that . . . bad?”
“I don’t
Whether I liked it or not, it appeared I had a sidekick. Or something like that. “It may take a while to track these guys down,” I said. “I can start on that. Could you get started deciphering yesterday’s recording?”
“Oh, crap! I forgot to send it to you. I knew I’d forgotten something.” He looked abashed. “I’ll get it done today. I still haven’t figured out what language it is—if it is a language.”
“Don’t worry about it. Once you get it to me, I’ll have a friend of mine work on it too. It’ll go faster that way.”
Stymak nodded. “All right. I’ll stay with Julianne for a while and then head back to my place to work on the file. She usually gets pretty quiet in the middle of the day.”
“Maybe she’s exhausted by then.”
“Could be. . . .”
I turned back to Lily Goss and Eva Wrothen, who had settled down near the bed. Julianne was apparently asleep—or whatever one called the state she was in. Wrothen kept shooting me furtive glances. I wondered what she thought I was going to do. Maybe she’d noticed my tendency to become a bit see-through when I dropped toward the Grey. Most people ignore it, but those who do notice are often a little freaked out at the sight. I hadn’t been too hard on her . . . had I?
I frowned and turned my attention back to Stymak.
“All right, if we’re going to work on this together, you stay here and observe Julianne or work with the ghosts—you know better what’s yielding information in this situation than I do. And be very careful—I don’t want you to have another problem with a ghost trying to harm you. I’ll get started finding those other patients. Send me the audio files as soon as you can and I’ll send you the information I dig up. When we’re both up to speed, we can get together and decide how to proceed.”
Stymak nodded. I started to leave, pausing for a moment by the bed. The dark shape that had descended over Julianne wavered and heaved like a sail in a gusty wind and as I listened, it sighed and groaned, “Leave, leave, leave . . .” No one else seemed to have heard. I wanted to touch the dark form and see if I could communicate with it, but I was afraid the motion might seem sinister to Goss and Wrothen.
“Ms. Goss,” I began, then turned my gaze to include the nurse. “Ms. Wrothen, would you mind if I touched Julianne?”
Wrothen scowled. “In what way?”
“Just my hand on her hand.”
Wrothen looked at Goss, who bit her lip but nodded assent.
I drew as close to the bed as machines and rails would allow and reached out to take Julianne’s left hand. The first thing I felt was wet paint and I realized she’d been using that hand to paint with. Then I felt a cold jolt that traveled up my arm and zinged across the back of my eyes, warping my vision into a static-filled haze of darkness shattered by jagged curtains of shifting colors. The shock stole my breath and I gasped, taking in air gone ice-sharp. There was no summer here. The darkness hovering over Julianne lashed at me with thin whips of silver mist that left a howling despair and anger behind as they passed through my flesh. “This is mine! Go away!” They weren’t so much words as they were the strongest mental impression of a shout.
I held out for a moment against the pressure, pain, and cold, trying to see the shape of whatever held sway over the body of Julianne Goss, but all I could make out with either eye was a dull, unbroken blackness that cloaked her form like a drenched blanket. No more enlightened than I had been before, I broke the connection and pulled my hand away from hers, easing back from the edge of the Grey.
The two women beside me stared at me with expectant expressions—Lily’s more hopeful than Wrothen’s.
“What did you see?” Lily asked, hesitating as if she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer.
“Just darkness.”
“Is that . . . bad?”
“I don’t
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