The Healer’s Curse

CHAPTER 2 — The Woman in the Storm

Light swallowed everything. For a second, Spike thought he was dying again. But the light dimmed, revealing the storm-soaked highway, empty, except for the cloaked woman now standing a few steps away.

Rain hissed around her, yet the drops never touched her cloak. They vanished an inch before hitting her, as though the air itself refused to get too close. Spike staggered, shielding his eyes. “What did you just do?”

She studied him with unsettling calm. “A simple veil,” she said. “To hide us from sight.”

“From who?”

“Everyone.”

Her voice was cool, deliberate, every word precise. She lowered her hood, revealing short silver hair and eyes the color of mercury. Too still. Too knowing. Spike’s pulse quickened. “You were watching me?”

“For three nights,” she replied. “Ever since the relic stirred beneath your home.”

“I don’t even know what that thing is!”

“That’s obvious.” A faint smile ghosted across her lips. “And yet it chose you.”

He frowned. “Chose me? It tried to kill me!”

“No,” she said softly. “It saved you. That’s how it begins.”

Spike took a step back. “Stay away from me.”

“If I wanted to hurt you,” she said, “you’d already be on the ground.”

Her confidence wasn’t arrogance, it was fact. Every motion of hers was controlled, efficient, lethal. Spike could feel it. He swallowed hard. “Who are you?”

She glanced at the faint glow still pulsing beneath the skin of his forearm. “You can call me Ayla. I’m with the Arcane Division.”

“Arcane Division,” he repeated. “Sounds like a comic book agency.”

“It’s not fiction to us.” Her gaze sharpened. “You’ve bonded with a relic, Spike Miller. A living artifact. It’s rewriting you as we speak.”

“I didn’t ask for this.”

“Relics don’t ask permission.”

He ran a shaking hand through his soaked hair. “Look, I just want to go home. Forget this ever happened.”

Ayla stepped closer, her boots splashing through a puddle. “You can’t. The relic inside you marks you now. Others will sense it. Hunters, collectors, worse things. They’ll smell the energy like blood in the water.”

He let out a disbelieving laugh. “You’re insane.”

“I’m alive,” she replied evenly. “Which is more than I can say for most who touch a relic.”

Lightning split the sky again, followed by rolling thunder. In that brief flash, Spike saw something moving in the shadows behind her, figures, low and fast, scuttling across the wet ground. “What’s that?” he whispered.

Ayla’s expression didn’t change. “Too late.”

The shapes burst into view, three of them, twisted silhouettes with pale, slick skin and too many limbs. Their mouths gaped open, revealing rows of translucent fangs. Spike stumbled back. “What the hell are those?!”

“Remnants,” Ayla said calmly, unsheathing a thin black blade that shimmered blue at its edge. “Creatures born from corrupted relic energy.”

One of the Remnants shrieked, leaping straight at Spike. Instinct kicked in, he raised his hands. Blue light erupted, blasting the creature midair. It disintegrated into ash before hitting the ground.

Ayla’s eyes flicked toward him. “Untrained, but strong.”

He blinked at his glowing hands. “I didn’t even”

The second Remnant lunged. Ayla moved like a streak of silver, her blade slicing through its neck in a single motion. The corpse hit the ground with a hiss, evaporating.

The third one crept behind Spike, claws extended. Ayla shouted, “Behind you!”

He turned too late. The creature’s claws raked across his chest, sparks of blue light scattered from the impact. It should have torn him apart, but the claws melted against his skin like wax.

The monster froze. Spike’s veins blazed with light. He grabbed its arm, energy flared from his palm, burning through flesh and bone until the Remnant crumbled to dust.

He stood there, panting, drenched in rain and blood. Ayla wiped her blade clean. “You heal, you destroy. The relic chose a dangerous vessel.”

“Stop saying that!” Spike shouted. “I didn’t choose anything!”

Ayla sheathed her sword. “Then learn to control it before it controls you.”

He sank to his knees. The adrenaline drained, leaving only confusion and exhaustion. “I just… wanted to help people. I was supposed to save lives, not”

“Then maybe you finally can,” she said quietly. “In ways you never imagined.”

He looked up at her, rainwater dripping down his face. “What do you want from me?”

“Answers,” she said. “And survival. Both of which require leaving before more Remnants find us.”

“Leave? Where?”

“Somewhere safe.”

“I don’t even know you.”

“Trust is a luxury,” Ayla replied. “But staying here means death. Your choice.”

He hesitated, glancing at the wrecked ambulance. The paramedic’s body was gone. Only a dark scorch mark remained where he’d fallen. “What happened to him?”

Ayla’s expression darkened. “The relic’s energy reanimates what it touches, but not for long. You gave him life for a moment, and then took it away.”

Spike’s stomach turned. “I killed him again…”

“No,” she said softly. “The relic did. But you’ll carry that weight until you master it.”

The words cut deeper than any wound. He clenched his fists, trying to steady his breathing. “Fine. Where do we go?”

Ayla glanced toward the horizon, where faint city lights shimmered through the rain. “There’s a safehouse in Eastbridge. We’ll reach it before dawn.”

“And if I say no?”

She looked him dead in the eyes. “Then the next thing that finds you won’t talk first.”

Spike stared at her for a long moment, then nodded once. “Lead the way.”

They started walking down the slick highway, the storm fading behind them. The world felt unreal now, every sound sharper, every shadow alive. After several minutes, Spike broke the silence. “What happens if I lose control again?”

“You won’t,” Ayla said.

“How do you know?”

“Because if you do, I’ll kill you.”

He stopped walking. “You’re serious.”

“Always.”

The rain had thinned to a drizzle. The city lights glowed faintly ahead, but Spike couldn’t shake the pulse in his veins, the rhythm that wasn’t his heartbeat.

He glanced at Ayla. “You said others would come after me. Who are they?”

She didn’t look at him. “The Relic Guild. They believe the relics are divine fragments, tools to rebuild the world.”

“And you?”

“I believe they’re mistakes that should’ve stayed buried.”

A low hum interrupted her words. The ground trembled slightly beneath their feet.

Spike frowned. “What now?”

Ayla drew her blade again. “Not good.”

From the fog ahead, headlights appeared, six pairs, moving fast. Spike’s heart jumped. “Cars?”

“Not ours.”

Engines roared closer. Dark SUVs with tinted windows burst through the mist, tires slicing through puddles. Their doors were marked with a white symbol, three interlocking rings.

Spike froze. “That’s the same mark you have.”

Ayla’s jaw tightened. “They shouldn’t be here.”

“Friends of yours?”

“No,” she said, voice low. “They’re supposed to be dead.”

The SUVs screeched to a halt. Men in black armor stepped out, weapons glowing faintly blue.

One of them called out, “Target located. Orders are to retrieve the vessel alive.”

Spike looked at Ayla, panic rising. “Vessel? They mean me, don’t they?”

Ayla’s hand tightened around her sword. “Stay behind me.”

“Are we running?”

“No.” Her eyes flashed silver. “We’re fighting.”

The men raised their weapons. Blue light gathered at the muzzles.

Ayla whispered, “When I say now, run toward the forest.”

“What about you?”

“Just run.”

The command rang through the rain as the first bolt of energy fired, and everything exploded into motion.