The spirit’s eyes widen, and in the next second, she vanishes into thin air.
“Well, fuck.”
Willow
Darkness surrounds me. Suffocating me. I can’t breathe. Can’t see. Can’t hear.
I hold the power of the Blade. Hannah and Isaac know it. How? Did I read the book’s words aloud? Could theyfeelit?
Hannah’s eyes changed the moment I tried to resist. The kind-hearted woman who watchedGhostbusterswith me one night when I couldn’t sleep vanished, replaced by something—someone—evil.
My heart shatters into dust. Or…does it? I don’t even know if I’m still alive. I can’t feel…anything.
Breathe.
Nothing.
Wiggle your fingers and toes.
Nothing.
Open your eyes.
Nothing.
Isaac grabbed me. He ordered me to find the Blade. Then Hannah…she was so angry.
“Tell us where the BLT is, or you’ll find out what happens when we turn the WCU up to eleven.”
Oh, God. They did it. Each level hurt worse than the last. My whisper screamed. She…disintegratedin agony. I felt her pain like it was my own. Or…maybe I’m wrong and itwasmy pain.
“Trap her in the void!”
Is that where I am? The void?
“…Willow…have thought of you often…”
There was a man—is a man. I can hear him now. I think. He saved me. I couldn’t see him. I couldn’t see anything by then. But he tried to stop Isaac and Hannah.
His voice is familiar. It becomes my anchor in this endless storm of nothingness. If I can hold on to it, maybe I can find my way out of here.
But it too fades away, and I’m alone. I’d cry if I could. But trapped, all I can do is wait and pray.
My eyes are gritty.I struggle to open them for a full minute before I realize what I’m doing—and what it means. I’m not dead. I’m out of the void!
But I’m too weak to move or speak. Lying on something soft, I draw a shaky breath.
“Oh, thank the Almighty above,” a deep, smooth voice says. That same voice. My anchor. My rescuer. “It has been two hours. I thought…I feared you might never wake up.”
Warm hands cover mine. The gentle touch brings tears to my eyes. “Say something, Willow. I do not know how to help you.”
I can only manage a weak whimper. If I could, I’d reach for him. Beg him to hold me. Ask him his name. I can’t remember.
As if he can read my mind, he gathers me in his arms. My whole body aches, but I feel safe with him. Safe enough to force my heavy lids open.
He’s beautiful. Long golden brown hair. A short beard. Perfect skin. Amber eyes that glow with intensity. In his embrace, I feel so tiny. He held me once before.
My cheeks heat. He did more than that. He had me in his lap and…
