Birthright (Residue Series #2) (19 page)

“The Relic-” He stopped and drew in a shuttered breath. “And The Nobilis.”

My jaw fell open
,
and my hand unconsciously squeezed Battersbee’s. “Wait. Are you saying that Jameson is The Nobilis?”

“Knew you weren’t safe…
tried
to
,
but couldn’t…
couldn’t
keep you together…”

“He tried to keep Jameson and me together?”

“It’s what killed him, Jocelyn.”

I jolted back, stunned, a single thought
racing
through my mind. I hadn’t told him my name
yet, and
if he knew my name, everything else he was saying had
a
high probability of being correct.

Finally,
he delivered the blow that
confirmed
he was telling me the truth. “It’s why they want to kill you.”

I sat back
,
but Battersbee gripped my hand, tight
er
,
exerting
every bit of strength he had left to keep me from letting go.

“He’s sorry,” whispered Battersbee. “He’s sorry.”

I knew what was happening
then
. My father was
now
speaking through Battersbee.

“Ask him how to cure Jameson,” I urged.

But Battersbee’s breathing shortened
,
and he
started gasping
for air.

“Battersbee!” It was now me gripping him. “Please ask him!”

“Hold…” he gasped. “On…”

“No,” I insisted. “No, please tell me!” He was at the end, ebbing away. “Please don’t go! Please tell me! Please Battersbee! Please!”

“So…peaceful…” I heard him say, though his lips never moved.

And then he was gone, his final breath seeping from his lips in a quiet whistle, his body slump
ed
forward, crushing the last of the air from his lungs.

Every muscle in my body went numb
as I watched my last possibility, Jameson’s savior, leave his body without giving me the cure. With it, the tears came, flowing in streams down my cheeks
, landing
on our hands, still clasped together.

I had just watched Jameson’s last hope die
,
and now
,
I would be forced to go home and watch him die.

Feeling as if I was on autopilot,
like a puppet under someone else’s control,
I carefully unlatched Battersbee’s fingers from mine and stood. Staring at the others from what felt like
the end of
a long tunnel
,
I left the room, placing my hands on Olivia as I passed her.

“Thank you,” I said. At least I’d been given the chance.

I was heading out to the seafood lockers when Olivia’s stunned voice behind me broke through my haze. “What the…”

Slowly, I turned around to find her lip curled up at me. She was deciding whether to be disgusted or amazed.

“What?” Oscar
pressed
, confused.

“Her voice…” said Olivia. “I heard it in my head.” Her body contorted
and shook.
“Ick.”

Vinnia stepped closer to her, eager, optimistic. “What did she say?”

“Thank you,” replied Olivia, still observing me. I got the sense I’d unintentionally violated her, somehow.

“I didn’t hear her say ‘Thank you’,” said Vinnia
,
before turning to Oscar who confirmed it too.

“Me neither.”

I blinked, realizing I had said those words. But I had spoken them…
didn’t
I?

The three of them were staring at me now.

“Try it again,” Vinnia demanded, marching two paces forward and extending her hand. When I didn’t move, she reached out,
took
my hand,
and slapped it in hers. “Say something.”

“What?” I was so exhausted
,
I didn’t know whether my lips had moved or not.

Vinnia’s gasp proved they hadn’t.

With her exhale, she released a single word that put it all together for me. “Residue…”

Only this time, her lips didn’t move. I heard the word in my head.

This experience had happened with just one other person, Jameson, and he wasn’t here.

My hand flipped around and took hold of hers. “You can hear me?”

“Yes.” Her unspoken answer was as clear as any word she’d ever said
aloud.

“Do you know what this means?” I asked her, my eyes widening at the prospect.

“No,” she replied
,
out loud. “What’s it mean?”

From then on, I spoke my thoughts
,
so Oscar could understand them too. “I asked them to give me the cure and they did. Battersbee told me to hold on as he died. Hold on. Those were his exact words. Do you know why? Because my father knew it was the only way for me to pick up Battersbee’s residue, his ability to channel. And I understand now…”

“What?”

“They all knew…Theleo, my father, Battersbee…
they
all knew that Jameson’s curse can only be overcome but no
t by using just
one conduit
.
Only one person can
actually
do that…use two conduits at once. A person who
can
heal
and
channel…at the same time.”

“The Relicuum…” Oscar said from down the hall.

Vinnia’s mouth lifted to one side in admiration. “You…”

For the first time
,
since
being
told I was the person gifted with the ability to pick up other’s residue
,
I
finally
accepted it. The facts I needed were now obvious to me. I just needed to use it and save Jameson’s life…if I
can
just reach him in time.

Just as we set down in the Caldwell’s backyard garden, the
morning sun crested the horizon, layering the cityscape with golden hues
,
as New Orleans began to stir
.

Two figures stood guard at the front door, rea
dy to scrutinize those leaving
. O
ne of them with a smooth, swarthy scalp began to tilt his head back for an impromptu search of the sky
a
s we silently passed overhead
.

Good morning, Theleo, I thought wryly
while
we dropped behind the roof, narrowly slipping by him.

Seconds later, we were entering the back door where Miss Celia and Miss Mabelle sat together, their faces grim.

“Are we back in time?” I asked, not bothering to stop and wait for an answer.

I was already on the stairs when Miss Celia’s voice reached me. “It’s hairy up there. Y
a
wants ta be careful.”

Sure enough, as I came through Jameson’s bedroom door, Charlotte was on her feet.

“Well, look who’s returned…
the
healer who can’t heal.”

“Is he…” I started
,
but
quickly made it to
Jameson’s bedside where I could see for myself.

Yes, he was still breathing. But it was raspy and there was a gurgling coming from his lungs, telling me
that
they were
filling with fluid,
and his time was close.
I realized that
I wouldn’t have known the sounds of death a few months ago, an eerie reminder of how much my life had changed before I refocused on Jameson.

“Jameson,” I said, taking his hand. It was cold, moist, and unresponsive.

While his body showed no sign of hearing me, his mind answered, channeling his thoughts. “Jocelyn…” he said
, slowly.

Charlotte’s voice cut in
,
barking from across the room, “You have no right to be here anymore.”

My gaze darted over
to
her
;
my
eyes narrowed, making no effort to hide my rage. “I can’t hear him-”

“Well, of course, you can’t,” she replied
,
snidely. “You can’t channel.”

“Over you. I can’t hear him over you,” I finished, staring pointedly at her, willing her to shut up.

“You-” She paused
, snapping
her mouth closed, confusion
dancing across
her face as she sank into the chair behind her.

I turned back to Jameson, vaguely noticing Miss Celia and Miss Mabelle at the door.  “It’s Jocelyn. I’m here.”

“Jocelyn…” his voice drifted through my consciousness.

“I’m going to try to heal you.”

“Yes, she’s a healer…”

I opened my mouth to speak again
,
but came to a stop when Jameson continued, quietly
and
patiently, as if
he was
talking in his sleep. “Jocelyn Weatherford. Against all odds, I fell in love.” He transitioned
,
as if he knew I was with him. “Your nerve…your heart…your strength. You are all I ever needed. More than I deserved…”

When he fell silent
.
I channeled through to him, desperate
ly searching
for a response. “Jameson!”

“Jocelyn…” His chest drew a shuddering breath, gradually rising and sinking deeper
with each exhale.
“I’ll wait for you…always…”

“Jameson!” I darted forward, his meaning immediately clear to me. “Don’t you leave!”

The
room began to shake
then
. Framed pictures of the family, set up days ago by Burke, jostled and collapsed. Furniture vibrated, drumming against the hardwood floors. Wind
violently
blew in, stirring the curtains
,
extinguishing the candles,
and
leaving the room dark
…
sparking screams from those around me.

“What’s happening?” I heard Charlotte shout
against
the
sound of the dresser
thumping against the wall.

“You can do it, Jocelyn,” Vinnia encouraged, having deduced it was me.

“What’s she…?” Alison began but never finished. I figured she stopped to grab something, maybe the door jamb, for support.

Estelle answered her fragmented question. “She’s saving your brother!”

If anyone spoke again, I didn’t hear them. I was too busy concentrating on channeling the energy coming my way. It was flooding in now,
like
a fire hose blast
ing
directly into me, forcing my eyes to a squint
and
taking my breath away. I struggled to absorb it, channel
ing
it through a
n
invisible
funnel
,
and
directly
into Jameson.

Gradually, as loose possessions flew overhead and noise rumbled in our ears, Jameson’s body reacted. His skin darkened against the sheets. His chest expanded farther with
each
deeper inhale
.
His
fingers slid up to curl under themselves. Finally, his eyes opened, snapping like they were being yanked toward the back of his skull.

Blinking, he attempted to focus
. Trying to
gain control of his motor functions
, he
tested the rotation of his head.

He
then
spoke the last word he’d been attempting
to voice
before falling unconscious.

“Jocelyn…” he breathed, a content smile rising up.

Choking
sobs came from behind me
while I held back my own reaction.
I didn’t want to alarm him after such a precarious experience. He was still recovering.

Jameson quickly
glance
d around, causing
his eyebrows to furrow. “Why is everyone in my room?”

The innocence of that question brought laughter and more sobs.

He
placed
his arms alongside his body, preparing to push himself up
,
but I
put
a hand on his chest, the curves of his muscles coincidentally challenging me. “You need to rest.”