Each word circles me like a predator, the sound simultaneously distant and so close it could be whispering in my ear. My breath comes in sharp bursts, visible in the cold air. I twist toward the sound, peering through dense trees.
“No.” I rear back. “Impossible.”
A woman with purple hair steps into the clearing. She crosses her arms, wearing an annoyed expression on a face that sends shock waves through my body. She hasn’t aged a day.
Selene Mhoon.
The Lunar Witch worked for Chiron Lyra and the Nyx terrorist group. She was the same witch Leigh’s uncle, Don Raelyn, had burned at the stake. But she has no burns; her clothes, a loose pair of jeans and a cropped shirt, are in perfect condition. A disturbing image of her burned body from her case file flashes in my mind, conflicting with the image of her standing before me.
“How did you know I was here?” I demand.
She releases a huff of breath. “Are you accusing me of stalking you?”
All breath leaves my lungs in a hurry. It really is her. The same haughty tone and look of indignation, as if the world is out to get her.
Reality tilts sideways. Selene didn’t move on. What unfinished business does she have?
“Why are you here?”
Selene shrugs. “I was going to ask you the same thing. You don’t belong here, Wilder. Go home.”
I stare, manners be damned.
Selene pokes me in the chest. “Did you hear me? I said leave.”
“Why didn’t you cross over?”
She lifts an eyebrow—as purple as her hair—and folds her arms over her chest once more. “Nothing gets by you, does it, Blade Boy? And why I didn’t cross over is none of your fucking business.”
“Where are the other souls?”
“Around. This is like a hotel lobby—there are several levels below where most souls get sent.” She rolls her eyes. “You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”
I keep quiet. As horrific as her death was, Selene isn’t a friend. When she was alive, I trusted her about as much as I trusted Chiron Lyra when he claimed he wanted the War Letters to help the Nebula. And look how well that turned out. I should reveal as little as possible.
“Have you seen Leigh?” I ask. She hasn’t questioned why I’m here, which suggests she knows something. She could help me find her.
Through the canopy, the sky darkens further. Rain strikes my skin like tiny needles. I shield my face while keeping my eyes on Selene.
“Wilder, go home,” she says again, more insistent.
“I’m not leaving without Leigh.”
Selene’s fists clench at her sides. “Leigh isn’t here. If she were, I’d know. We don’t get many visitors—not of the living persuasion, at least. Especially not the queen.”
She’s lying. Ravi watched Leigh go through the portal. “You’re a shit liar, Selene.”
She blinks through the rain. “I bet you say that to all the Lunar Witches you used to arrest. What if I told you Leigh is a Lunar Witch? Would you leave her here?”
I ignore the barb. “Selene. I’ve been with Leigh for years. I’m aware who and what she is. Now, where is she?”
“She’s not your concern right now, but you know what is?” Selene’s tone shifts, becoming urgent. “Those daemons that just went through the portal back to your world. Do you know what they are?”
My eye twitches. She’s deflecting, but curiosity wins. “What?”
She smiles—even in death, she’s still manipulative. “Flesh-eating daemons. They behave like vampires, licking their victims to suck out their life force. They mainly target children and babies, spending their days in cemeteries and hunting the living at night.” Her voice takes on false sympathy. “Just one lick completely paralyzes their prey.”
I glance back toward the lake, thinking of the wedding guests, of innocent people.
