I started to scream — then snapped my mouth shut.
My eyes adjusted to the dark, and I realized that it wasn’t the beast’s teeth that were gleaming but the shimmering collar around its neck. Not an ordinary collar, either, but a Duty Director: a glowing, otherworldly sphere spinning with holographic images. The beast was just a dog, with black curly fur, floppy ears and a happy-to-see you wagging tail. When I was a little girl he’d been my constant companion — until he died at a ripe old age.
“Cola!” I cried, startling the cat. Hissing, she scampered off the bed and disappeared. “I’m so glad to see you!”
What sounded like an ordinary bark translated inside my head to, I came because I heard you were having problems.
“Am I ever! I lost the GEM and can’t find out anything about my mission. It’s driving me crazy, trying to live someone else’s life without knowing much about them. I did figure stuff out, though, and I have a plan to help her.”
That’s no longer your concern.
“Of course it is. Before I lost the GEM, I read the Nine Divine Rules so I know that part of my job is to guide my Host Body to better choices.”
Secrecy is also part of your job, Cola said disapprovingly.
“I didn’t know that until after I’d already told Eli.” I didn’t add that Eli hadn’t kept the secret, either. “But since I read the GEM rules I’ve been following through on Sharayah’s plans and I haven’t gotten any tattoos or piercings. I’ve even figured out how to help Sharayah. There’s an audition in two days—”
You won’t be here in two days. Cola’s dark eyes shone at me.
“Why not?” I asked nervously.
Your grandmother has reconsidered your mission.
“What do you mean?”
Your grandmother is sorry for all your troubles and regrets sending you on this mission without training or experience. She apologizes for her mistake.
“But it wasn’t a mistake — I’ve been helping Sharayah.”
Arrangements have been made to reverse the soul exchange. You will return to your physical body tomorrow.
“Tomorrow!” I cried, shaking my head.
Isn’t that quick enough? Do you need to switch sooner?
“No! That’s not it at all! I’m not ready to go back.”
Cola cocked his head, looking less like an angelic messenger and more like an ordinary dog given a command he doesn’t understand. You don’t want to return to your true body?
“Sure I do — just not till after the audition. It’ll boost Sharayah’s singing career and her self-esteem. This guy, Gabe, broke her heart and destroyed her spirit so much she gave up on herself. Now do you understand why I can’t leave?”
No. But I am only a messenger — your grandmother is the boss.
“Then give her a message that I need to stay for two more days.”
It will do no good. She wants you away from danger.
“Danger?” Squeezing my pillow to my chest, I glanced quickly around the shadowy room. “What are you talking about?”
A Dark Lifer has been reported in the area.
“I knew it! I’ve been suspicious of Warren ever since I met him. No one wears gloves to the beach unless they have something to hide. But how did you find out?”
Cola’s Duty Director started flashing red and green lights as it began to spin. There are Earthbounders — humans like you — who are sensitive to energy shifts.
“Do you mean psychics?” I guessed.
That’s one of the words to describe those with this ability. Some of them work for us — reporting unusual activity. So you’ve met this Dark Lifer?
“Yes,” I admitted. “Warren tricked me to going with him to a deserted building and I think he would have attacked me if he wasn’t interrupted.”
Cola’s response was an angry growl that was probably the same as swearing in mental dog-language.
“I wasn’t hurt,” I said quickly, to calm him down. “I got away before he could take off his gloves and steal my energy.”
When he is captured, he will be punished severely. Cola lifted his black nose, sniffing close to me. This explains the foul odor around you.
“You can smell a Dark Lifer on me?” I asked, surprised (and a little embarrassed) as I sat up straighter, tucking my legs beneath me.
What sort of dog would I be if I couldn’t detect the foul essence of a Dark Lifer? Cola said, sounding insulted.
“Do I stink now?” I asked him.
Not to other humans, but it’s revolting to me. He scooted back to the edge of the bed.
“Sorry.” I sniffed myself, smelling nothing out of the ordinary.
My sniffer is so highly trained that even secondhand Dark Lifer odors are unpleasant. Still, out of loyalty to your grandmother, I do occasional tracking for her. I’ll need a description of the Dark Lifer.
“Warren is really muscular and—”
Not that kind of description. Cola moved closer to me, his Duty Director bursting with lights in dazzling rainbow hues. The colors merged in a brilliant iridescence as it whirled; it was spinning so fast it made me dizzy. It changed, too, lengthening and lifting, slipping over Cola’s floppy ears and rising above his head like an airship poised to launch into space.
But instead of flying away, it sailed toward me and hovered right on top of my head, sending a gush of energized wind over me so soft and sweet it felt like a shower of air kisses. Instinctively I reached up to touch the collar, but a shocking electric tingle zapped my fingers. I pulled back, startled but not hurt.
Sit, my dog commanded, an edge of irritation in his mind-tone.
“Why? What’s happening up there?” I pointed to the space above my head.
The Duty Director is preparing to scan your memories.
“Will it hurt?”
You won’t feel anything as it accesses the information. Sit, and stay still.
I obeyed my dog, which seemed an ironic role reversal. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, I held my back straight and my head high as the Duty Director whirled over me like a fan and Cola studied me with his black, shining eyes. It was all so weird and surreal — sitting in a stranger’s bed, chatting with my dead dog in a bedroom decorated with kitty pictures.
It’s ready now, Cola mind-spoke. When did you last see the Dark Lifer?
“Today.” I glanced at a clock. “I mean, yesterday.”
Where were you when you saw him?
Easy enough. I thought back to the dark warehouse where bicycles surrounded the walls and Warren blocked the way to the door. Warren’s hands, concealed in leather, had been reaching for me, so dangerously close that remembering made me hot with fear about what might have happened.
Got it! Good girl! Cola’s voice applauded.
The whistling over my head stilled as the whirling collar floated away from me and circled quietly in the air.
“You’re done? Already?” Cautiously reaching up, I touched my head. “What exactly did you do?”
Copied the live image of the Dark Lifer from your memories. Then the Duty Director distributed the images to members of the Dark Disposal Team to aid in the capture of the renegade soul.
I nodded, remembering my experience with the DDT — how a man and woman wearing ordinary business suits appeared out of nothingness and captured a dangerous Dark Lifer with their snake-like silver ropes. Then, in a flash, they were gone, taking their prisoner with them.
“So they’ll get rid of Warren?” I asked hopefully.
They’ll try — knowing his temporary appearance helps. Most Dark Lifers are confused souls who run because they’re afraid. They are easy to apprehend. The one you came in contact with last week was like that.
“His capture was quick,” I agreed.
That’s the way it is with most Dark Lifers. But then there are the old souls, the Dark Lifers who have been switching bodies for centuries and are clever and elusive.
“Warren didn’t seem very clever when he was running from a knife,” I scoffed.
He had reason to be afraid. If a borrowed body is injured and bleeds the Dark Lifer inside is ejected and has only ten minutes to find a new body before the DD Team discovers his (or her) location. Without the protection of a human body, souls shine so brightly they can be seen from the other side. Even a newbie Dark Lifer would know to run from a knife.
“But if Dark Lifers can hide in human bodies, how do you find them?”
Eighty percent of Dark Lifers are frightened after a few days hiding in a borrowed body and they beg to be returned. Nineteen percent are easily caught because they make dumb mistakes that draw attention to themselves.
Math from my dead dog. Go figure.
“What about the other one percent?” I asked curiously.
That’s the hard part. If they suspect we’re closing in on them, they switch to a new body. Cola puffed out a doggy sigh. There is only one sure way to catch them.
“How?”
Deception. The Dark Disposal Team must catch them unaware — but this is difficult without the help of a living person.
“I’m alive — and I’d like to help,” I offered. “If Warren isn’t caught soon, he’ll go after my friend Sadie. I’ll do whatever I can to stop him.”
I cannot allow that. Risking your body is against the Divine Rules. If this Dark Lifer is an old soul, he may have the strength and knowledge to drain your energy until you can’t even breathe. The lucky ones die.
“Die! You mean really die … like you and Grammy Greta?”
Worse. We ended long lives naturally and made it to the other side safely with healthy souls.
“What happens to the ‘unlucky’ ones?”
Insanity — they lose their minds. Cola pointed a furry paw at me. Besides, your grandmother would never allow it.
“So don’t tell her.”
I would never go against her orders — and warn you not to, either. For your soul’s safety, stay away from Dark Lifers.
Then Cola slipped his Duty Director back on and vanished.