“He came to you for help, and youlocked him up?”
“This is for his safety.” She pets his dirt-crusted hair, letting me know once again that the warlock is—unfortunately—alivewhen he visibly quivers beneath her touch. The thought of what he’s been surviving through fills my throat with bile.
It’s official. Ineedto get home, if only to tell Mom about this captive, so he can be helped.
“Come.” She stretches a hand towards me, through her barrier. “Take my hand and let me bring you in here.”
“Why?”
“You wish to know how I’m aware of the future.”
While I hate feeling like I’m using the Seer in such a way, Ididcome to learn all I could, so I take her hand. She pulls me through her shield, and even with two witches now standing over him, he still doesn’t move.
Sloane brings our entwined grip closer to his bent head, to the hair that is in severe need of washing; I can’t figure out if he’s blond or dark-haired. Skin meets his head, and with a speed and pressure that jolt not only through my mind but through my body, I’m shoved into a series of images. They flash too quickly to allow me to fully consider each one.
—White feathered wings, then dark bat-like ones?—
—Fiery depths of Hell?—
—Bright skies of Heaven?—
—A child playing in a pile of leaves?—
—A girl crying on her bed?—
—A teenager at graduation?—
—A woman kissing a man?—
—All the same person?—
—All with a nearby black presence?—
—Darkness.Theultimate Dark being?—
—The Devil?—
—Hell—
—An altar —
—Blood —
—Binding—
—The Dark presence wrapped around the woman?—
—His wings. A tail. Horns?—
—Fire—
—She’s smiling at him?—
—In love?—
—A black void?—
—She’s in a cell?—
