Soul Slam, Soul Warriors Book 1

Chapter Five A

Xander's bare arms wrapped around me, tackling me from behind in a quarterback sack. And I was the quarterback. My lungs crushed. A spark shot through me. Energy exploded inside. My skin heated like a flame had burst inside.

His momentum propelled both of us forward like linked rag dolls. We started falling to the blacktop in the right lane of the highway, but the motion from his tackle pushed us out of the way, avoiding the bus by mere inches. His arms slackened and dropped. The bus whizzed past, its horn screeching.

I put my hands out to block my fall, but never hit the ground. My body adjusted on its own, straightened and kept moving like a puppet being yanked by strings.

Xander continued to tumble. He flopped to the ground and kind of bounced off the pavement as if he couldn't put his arms out to protect himself. Like the time he'd fallen at the museum.

Adrenaline spiked now that I realized what Xander had done. He'd saved me and I'd zapped him. The force that had surged through me was more powerful than the first time I'd touched him. I was alive. But what about Xander?

I twisted my head, trying to see. He lay in the lane nearest the curb. The whiteness of his tunic glowed from the now completely unshadowed moon. Another car could hit him.

A scream tore from my throat, "Xander!" I didn't want him hurt.

I turned at the waist, trying to steer my body back toward the road but my feet kept going, crunching the gravel lining of the roadway and then hitting the wet grass leading me away from him. I wanted to help him like he'd helped me. But I couldn't.

So much for being in control of my own destiny, for having power. I couldn't stop my feet. I had voices in my head. I couldn't turn around. And I couldn't help Xander.

I wasn't powerful. I was powerless.

My eyes stung and I struggled to take a breath. Who was I kidding? I'd never held any power. Not now, not through the foster homes, not in Fitch's house.

There, I wasn't allowed to go to school. I ate what was put in front of me. I wore what he gave me and never got to decide on the heists we pulled. At least I'd been in charge of my own body. Now, I'd lost even that ability.

My ragged breath heaved in and out. My feet kept moving. I felt lost in my own life. And now I'd taken Xander down with me.

King Tut's soul didn't care about Xander. Neither did the Society that raised him. They weren't a family. At least in Fitch's dysfunctional ring we cared about each other, helped each other, stuck up for each other. And I needed to get back. Give Fitch the amulet, and hopefully my problem.

The only problem was I couldn't even control my feet. Heading into a bunch of trees on this side of the road, I bent low. With the distance, I couldn't see Xander lying on the road anymore. I'd abandoned him, too.

If I could I'd go back and help I would. I scrunched my face, trying with all my will to stop the running. Determination ran, ha ha, through me. I had to go back and try to save Xander. Except, none of my efforts worked.

Feeling stupid, I commanded, "Stop feet, stop."

My feet didn't listen. I prayed, whispering words in an urgent tone. "Soul of King Tut, please let me stop. Please let me go to Xander."

But no one heard. Or I was being ignored. So much for the voices in my head.

"Olivia!"

Did the soul know my name? But this voice was different, familiar.

"Olivia!"

Xander? I twisted my head to look behind.

Xander half-ran, half-limped. His pale face winced. His jet-black hair stood straight up like he'd been electrocuted.