Free Birthright (Residue Series #2) by Laury Falter

veterinarians… they’re nothing like what the Vires can cast.” He stopped to reiterate the warning with explicit pronunciation. “ Nothing like them .”
    “I understand.”
    Still he hesitated.
    “I do,” I insisted, growing more impatient.
    “I’ll be there with you the entire time, Jocelyn,” he reassured me . “The entire time…” Then he drew in a deep breath and stated my worst fear . “Our first stop is Olivia’s.”
    I stifled a groan at hearing the confirmation, not wanting to cause any more delays. Jameson had already given his best effort to warn me , and he was correct in trying.
    I had absolutely no foresight as to how unprepared I truly was…
     
     
     
     
     

5   CLEANSING
     
    Driving would be a better mode of transportation , but Jameson and I knew we couldn’t risk it …too easy to be follow ed . Since it was just after dusk, I levitated us both, while Jameson navigated to Olivia’s shop. This method, unfortunately, left me weaker – and less equipped to handle whatever we may encounter .
    The last time I visited Olivia, her shop had been destroyed. This time it looked exactly the same, as if she had done no cleaning at all since then. Shelves were toppled, merchandise littered the floor, and fragments of glass covered nearly every surface. As we entered through the back door, Jameson had to move aside a mangled piece of wood , resembling what was once a desk.
    Walking to the front of the store gave us an entirely new perspective . Even though it had endured the same level of destruction, it was also the place where Olivia had been cast against.
    We found her crouched in the corner like an injured animal, eyeing us cautiously .
    Olivia was in her nineties . She is frail, kind, and grandmotherly. She didn’t deserve this type of castigation . I immediately wondered what excuse the Vires had for doing this to her and what had been done to them to evoke such a passionate lack of sensitivity.
    “Careful,” a snide voice snapped, to our left , as we skirted a broken mound of candles. It was Mrs. DeVille, another elderly shopkeeper, ambling toward us . Her hunched back shift ed to keep its balance as she slid across the broken wreckage . “The woman’s been like this all day.”
    Jameson’s head jerked back, bewildered. “She was visited yesterday.” In a far more brusque tone , he continued . “And she wasn’t like this when I left.”
    “They came back again,” Mrs. DeVille scoffed. Evidently, Jameson’s questioning insulted her.
    “You were here?” I asked Jameson.
    He nodded and was about to explain , when Mrs. DeVille interrupted, demanding, “Why’d you bring her anyway ? We told you to keep this a secret.”
    With a great amount of patience, Jameson ’s head swiveled back in her direction. “Mrs. DeVille, Jocelyn is the healer.”
    “Oh no she’s not,” she replied , emphatically , her ego bruised.
    Jameson sighed , closing his eyes against what I saw as an argument evolving. Without bothering to open them, he elucidated, “Mrs. DeVille considers herself to be a first-class, bona fide healer.”
    He didn’t agree with her in the least, proven by his struggle to control his expression.
    “Stay back,” she warned , bringing a gnarled finger up in my direction. “You stay back. She’s my patient.”
    “I might be able to help, Mrs-”
    “Back!” she snapped. “Back!”
    Having been fully reprimanded now, I wondered who was behaving more like an injured animal . I threw my hands up and took a step back , showing her I was serious. “She’s your patient, Mrs. DeVille , but if whatever you try doesn’t work, I’m going to step in.”
    She gave me a petulant stare, turning her lip up in a scowl, and wobbled across the room to Olivia . When Olivia saw her coming , she curled tighter into a fetal position , and I didn’t blame her.
    Above the scuffing of Mrs. DeVille’s feet as she made her way through the damage, a croaky voice called out. “Love,