Drawing Bloodlines (25 page)

“No,” said Madam Esmeralda. “Medallions, charms, a
mulets, and other trinkets can be bound to perform many things, including augment a user’s powers, but not a shield.”

“Well, there you have it,” whispered Nathan, cockily. He grinned as Lafonda rolled her eyes. “I told you that shield came from you. Welcome to the Pneuma Novo club.”

Suddenly, there was a series of loud crashes from the back of the store. “Just stay away from me!” yelled a male voice. Nathan and the others cringed at the sound of breaking glass. “Keep your potions!”

“It’s okay,” they heard Zahara say. “Calm down, it was just an accident, it happens.”

“Not for months on end!” the stubby bald man yelled, storming into the room. He turned to look at Madam Esmeralda and threw his hands up in the air. “It’s hopeless! I’m going to be tormented for the rest of my life!”

The man bee-lined past the front counter. Nathan could see different colored stains on his lightweight jacket and shirt, as he headed for the door. Nathan and Malick stepped aside and, out of nowhere, appeared the Soul C
ollector standing between them.

“What the?” uttered Nathan and the Soul Collector forc
ibly shoved the passing man.

The man went head first into the nearby small table and there were several sharp clanking noises as he hit the floor. The man appeared frazzled as he sat against the toppled t
able, amongst the sea of charms and amulets of various colors, shapes, and sizes. “Great!” shouted Zahara, stepping from behind the counter. “As if I didn’t have enough already to do.”

The man’s chunky cheeks became a bright red as he sta
ggered to his feet. “I’m cursed!” he yelled and bolted for the door.

Nathan felt a burning feeling in the pit of his stomach as his eyes met with the sunken red eyes of the man underneath the purple hood. Nathan was surprised that, aside from his dry pale skin and depressed features, the man looked quite human. It was far different from the black, faceless visages of the Shadow Guard, and the greenish, dep
leted faces of the Scarlet Priests.

The Soul Collector displayed a huge grin and immediat
ely took off after the traumatized man. “Hey!” yelled Nathan and the burning feeling continued to build inside of him. “Why don’t you pick on someone that can actually see you?”

The Soul Collector froze and his red and irritated eyes glared at Nathan from beneath his hood. The Soul Collector titled his head as if he was staring at an anomaly. That stare caused Nathan to shiver. “Umm, Nathan,” said Lafonda, looking aimlessly around. “I can’t see who you are talking to, remember? So, let’s not push it.”

Nathan and the Soul Collector were locked in a bizarre staring contest. It broke when the man started to back away.

Why do I keep getting this nagging feeling that I’ve seen him somewhere else before
? He thought to himself.

Nathan stepped forward and Lafonda reached out to grab his arm. Before he knew it, the Soul Collector took off ru
nning. “Hey!” yelled Nathan, and he took off after him.

15

DEJA VU

A soft jingling sound filled the air as the storefront door to Madam Esmeralda’s shop closed jarringly behind them. “Let go of me,” said N
athan, while looking back at Malick. “We have to stop him. We can’t just sit here and let him keep torturing the man!”

“And what do you expect us to do?” asked Malick as he stared down the vacant and foggy street. “Throw a fireball at him? He’s practically invisible — Soul Collectors exist somewhere betwe
en the Earth and Spirit Realm.”

“There has to be someth
ing we can do,” panted Nathan.

The awkward brown door to the shop suddenly latched shut as a
We are Closed
sign appeared in the blackened, storefront window. “Sorry, Nathan, but it doesn’t sound like there is much that we can do,” added Lafonda. “And besides, he’s gone.”

Nathan looked up and down the narrow and foggy street. It was much darker now that the fog had completely rolled in. The streets were just as reminiscent of a ghost town as they were before. “Come on,” said Lafonda, taking him by the hand. Above, the three-pronged lamppost on the street flared to life. “It’s getting late and we got what we came here for. L
et’s get back to the others.”

Nathan nodded and reluctantly followed behind them. He couldn’t help but think about the short, balding man.
He had a bad attitude and was rude as heck, but under the circumstances, who wouldn’t?
He thought.
He truly was being haunted.

“Leah said my mom just took them to this fancy shoe store and Angela just found a pair of pla
tform stilettos that are to die for,” said Lafonda. She picked up her pace. “It’s a little bit off the beaten path, but according to the GPS on my phone, it isn’t far from here.”

Malick rolled his eyes and Nathan nodded; he was too busy processing what just happened.
My mom was here, in London?
He thought to himself. He obviously knew that his mom had an entire life before he and his dad appeared, but he was still taken aback by all the recent things he learned about her.
Being a part of the Order is one thing, but she also knew Malick’s grandfather? What did he want from her and who was the child?

Nathan picked up his pace. “Do you know an
ything about what Madam Esmeralda was talking about back there? Like, why was your grandfather after my mother?”

“I haven’t a
clue,” said Malick, surprised.

Nathan grunted. “Could it have anything to
do with the Order?” he asked.

“The Order?” blurted Lafonda, but she quickly became distracted again by her cell phone.

“Madam Esmeralda said a lot of things,” said Malick. “So I don’t know how you’re connecting this to the Order.”

“Well isn’t just about everything?” asked Nathan. “Our powers, our families, this proph
ecy?” He looked firmly at him. “They’re not trying to keep the Legend of the Firewalker secret for nothing.”

“Well, she also said there was a child with her,” respon
ded Malick, swiftly. “So what does that have to do with anything?”

Nathan paused. They were now on a crowded street and he scrambled to keep up with Lafo
nda. “I don’t know,” said Nathan finally, weaving behind Lafonda through the crowd. “But it definitely wasn’t me that was with my mom that day, because my mom died giving birth to me.…”

“Well, that’s according to your grandfather,” remarked Malick.

“And what exactly do you mean by that?” demanded Nathan. They had just turned a corner and Nathan noticed they were no longer walking along a street, but in an alley. “Are you saying my grandfather’s a liar?”

Nathan attempted to confront Malick by standing in his path, but Malick just proceeded around him. “No, that’s not what I am saying,” said Malick. “But you can’t be 100 pe
rcent certain now, can you?” He paused. He had finally caught up to Lafonda and caught the door as she entered what appeared to be a women’s shoe shop. “Look, you were just a baby then, so how would you know?”

Nathan frowned as he trailed Malick into the little, but well-lit store. “Well, you hav
e to know something,” he said.

“Like what?” said Malick.

Nathan sighed. “Like, why does it sound like Madam Esmeralda is well-acquainted with your grandfather?” he asked. “She did know you were his grandson.” Malick began to fidget with the zipper to his black leather jacket and Nathan continued to hammer him. “And why was she so adamant that she didn’t care who he was? Is your grandfather someone important?”

Malick ran his fingers backward through his hair. “Ma
ybe she was just doing her thing,” he said with a nervous laugh, “you know, fortune-telling.”

“I don’t think you can call going on a rant fo
rtune-telling,” said Nathan.

“Okay then,” said Malick, with a win
k. “How about spirit reading?”

“Whatever, Malick,” sai
d Nathan, continuing to frown.

“I love the apricot color,” said Lafonda. She carefully stepped over several boxes of opened shoes to sit in the open-cushioned chair n
ext to Angela. “Is that suede?”

“Yes,” said Angela, excitedly. “And I just love the rhin
estones.” Her bright blue eyes had an extra oomph to them as she held out a pair of high heel boots. “But I need a smaller size. Can you?”

“Yes,” said the red-haired sales clerk, forcing a smile. She paused, taking a moment to glare at the piles of boxes that surrounded Angela’s feet. “Which size will it be th
is time? A seven? Or a six?”

“A six!” said Angela,
enthusiastically.

The redheaded sales clerk briskly nodded, and then slu
ggishly took one of the shoes. “And you, madam?” she asked, with a deep sigh.

“I have what I’m going to buy today,” said Mrs. Devaro, patting the navy blue shoebox in her lap. “Bu
t thank you.”

The red-haired sales clerk forced a smile again and then trotted off behind the front glass counter, disappearing through the open doorway to the back. “When she returns, I’ll take a picture of you in them using my cell phone,” said Alan. He hinted at Lafonda and then eagerly m
otioned for her to give him his cell phone with his hand. “You can then post a foot selfie — noting it’s from London of course.”

“I don’t think it ever stopped vibrating — not once!” said Lafonda and she happily gave Alan his cell p
hone. “Here is yours, Angela.”

“So, were you successful in helping Nathan?” asked Mrs. Devaro. She was seated across the way, and smiled playfully at Nathan. “Please tell me you were able
to find him some more shirts.”

Lafonda looked down at her empty hands. “Well, you know Nathan,” she chuckled ner
vously. “He’s so hard to shop for.…”

“And just so darn picky,” add Malick, with a grin. He peered out the large storefront wi
ndow. “I guess ‘Operation: Dress Nathan’ will just have to wait until were back in the States.”

“I guess so,”
said Mrs. Devaro, skeptically.

Nathan frowned. “Such an odd location for a shoe store,” he grumbled, heading toward the back of the store. He car
efully looked around and then back at Malick. “Probably explains why we’re the only ones here.”

“What did you think about the shoes?” asked Angela, ge
tting up to sit next to Jonathan. He was steadily writing something into his black and green spiral notebook.

“Oh, they are nice,” said Jonathan, finally ta
king a look at the high heel shoe. “You should definitely get them.”

Angela smiled.
“So, what are you working on?”

“Well,” said Jonathan. He looked around and then toward the back of the store. “I’ve been working on figuring out the prophecy.” He paused, gazing at the purple cell phone with gold stars in Angela’s hand. “I left my cell phone with my dad so that he and the others can work on deciphering the rest of the symbols in my pictures, but I still have a few
of my sketches to work from.”

“Any luck?” asked
Angela, excitedly.

“Actually,” said Jonathan, perking up in his seat. His sudden movement caused his glasses to slip down his shar
p-angled nose. “I think I’ve figured out some of the parts that were destroyed by our blonde femme fatale.” He pointed. “I just can’t seem to figure out this symbol.”

“Let me see,” said Angela, leaning in. She placed a loose lock of curly blonde hair behind her ear and then smiled fondly as she looked back up at him. “It looks like two o
bjects going around in a circle — a set of wings and a pointed tail.”

“Yes,” said Jonathan, “two entirely different symbols, but swirling
in a clockwise circle as one.”

“Like the Yin
and Yang symbol,” said Angela.

“Why, yes,” said Jonathan, surprised. “Neither complet
ely black nor white.”

“Or in this case,” said Angela, while tracing over the pointy tail. “Neit
her completely good, nor evil.”

“Precisely!” said Jonathan. He had a huge grin on his face. “I think we just figured out the meaning of the sy
mbol.”

“Oh, brother,” said Alan, while rol
ling his eyes. Angela frowned.

“Jonathan,” she said, looking down at her phone. She leaned in again but this time she kept an eye on Mrs. Devaro before whispering. “Why didn’t you give them something to cloak you? You can change into a fox, so we know for su
re you definitely have powers.”

He paused to reposition his glasses, but Angela beat him to it, gently pushing them back up his nose. “Thanks,” he said with a huge smile. A
ngela and Jonathan both turned away from each other and their cheeks appeared to redden. “According to Malick, that’s why I don’t need one,” he said. “Besides the fact that it’s hard to track someone that can travel relatively easy back and forth from the Spirit Realm. The Scarlet Priests are looking for humans that can Pneuma Novo. Not an animal.”

Angela nodded and then looked up toward the well-lit doorway leading to the back of the store. “I hope they h
ave my size,” she said, aloud.

“It sure is taking her awhile,” said Nathan, peering t
oward the doorway. He quickly perused the sale advertisement for Mireya’s Shoe Emporium that lay on top of the glass counter. “How much longer is this shopping excursion going to last anyway?” He mumbled. “We no longer have to keep up this charade.”

“We got what we initially came for, but explain that to Angela and Alan,” said Leah, positio
ning her back in front of him. She tilted her head forward and Nathan pulled out the gold necklace he had Madam Esmeralda cloak for her. “There, you’re all set. Now I just have to get these other items to Jonas and Bobby.”

“Thank you, babe,” said Leah, while positioning the necklace. She stood on the tip of her toes to give him a kiss, but suddenly did a double take of the doorway leading to the back of the store. “Is it me, or did that hallway just become
eerily dark?”

“No, it’s not just you,” said Nathan, turning around. “The light was on just a second ago.”

“Maybe the light bulb burned out,” said Angela.

“I don’t think so,” said Leah slowly as she looked around. Her face grew a pale white as she took in the growing di
scoloration of the walls and ground around her. “Nathan … everything is turning black and white!”

Leah and Nathan continued to step back until they reached Angela and Jonathan, who now stood behind them. “Guys?” said Angela in a worried voice. “Why do I feel like I’m at the
Justin Bloomer concert again?”

“Yeah,” said Leah, her voice quivering. Her chest heaved rapidly as she took several deep breathes. “It’s like that night at Lawrence Hall all over again — the night I was taken to the ho
spital.”

“I can’t lift my notebook off the chair or pickup my backpack,” said Jonathan. “It’s like … fr
ozen!”

Quickly, Leah spun around only to find her brown knitted bag and the chair it was sitting on void of color. “Oh, no!” she cried, lunging for the
bag.

“Leah!” shouted Nathan and the air
appeared to ripple around her.

“How did you do that?” asked Jonathan, now staring at the brown knitted bag in her hand. “How w
ere you able to pick that up?”

“Uh, guys?” stammered Alan. “Don’t you think this i
s our cue to run?”

“But what about my shoes?” whined Angela, and then out of the dark doorway flew the re
dheaded sales clerk. “Oh my God … is she dead!”

“Leeaah!” shrieked a metallic
voice that echoed in the air.

Immediately Leah began to fumble through her
bag. “I–I won’t be a victim.”

“Leah, no!” warned Nathan, and out of the darkness of the doorway appeared Lauren. The train to her long,
white dress flowed behind her.