Emma looked up at Zach standing beside her. His shoulders were rigid with tension. He was worried for her. He didn’t want her hurt. And seeing James had rattled him, maybe more than he realized. But he was still there, standing beside her. Deep in her soul, she knew he would accept whatever she chose.
“You’ll stay with me?” she asked, quietly.
Zach’s answer was instant. “Of course. But we don’t have to do this today. We can let Ethan and Bryn study more and—”
She went up onto her toes and kissed him, gently cutting off his words. “I’d rather just get it over with.”
The last thing she wanted was to start second-guessing her decision and freaking herself out. They were all there and ready, they should just do it. And Zach would stay with her, which was all she needed.
Emma turned to Ethan. “Can we do it now? Please?”
“Of course.” Ethan and Bryn sprang into action, and within a few minutes, a therapy table was set up in the middle of the room. Emma toed off her shoes and climbed up onto the table to lie face up with her head resting on a cushion while Ethan covered her with a soft blanket.
She was fully clothed, surrounded by people who only wanted the best for her in a room filled with sunlight and the smell of old books. And yet, there was something deeply vulnerable about lying down and letting everyone see her scars—even if they were inside her.
She looked up at Ethan standing near her head. “What if I—” She cleared her throat. “Touching people is hard.”
He smiled down at her. “That’s okay. It might even help.”
She nodded slowly, clasping her hands over her chest and forcing herself to breathe evenly.
“You don’t have to do this, Emma,” Zach murmured as he pulled up a chair and sat beside her. He lifted one of her hands and held it firmly in his, forming a lifeline back to him.
She tilted her head so that she could see him. His frown was back. It was so severe that it almost certainly was giving him a headache. A muscle jumped in his jaw.
“I’m okay.” She said the words to soothe Zach, but somehow saying them made it okay for her too.
Bryn settled down on her other side, his hand on her shoulder near her heart, while Ethan sat at her head, his hands cradling her ears lightly. She had a moment of almost panic, expecting a barrage of images to assault her from all sides, but instead, the world began to sway and sparkle. Warmth and generosity poured out from Bryn and Ethan, more reassuring than the blanket that covered her, and she felt cradled in their hold. All while Zach’s hand still held her safely anchored.
Long moments passed as she slowly relaxed into the warmth. She watched the light playing across the wall behind Zach in a sleepy daze. Dust motes fell lazily, spinning and dancing gently through the air like a halo behind him.
She blinked. And then blinked again. The halo around Zach looked different. She could see the aura of light, the sparkling dust, but under it all was a shadow. It was as if she’d been out in bright sunlight and walked into a darkened room and her eyes were struggling to adjust, leaving everything in shades of purple and plum. She looked closer. The shadow-halo was warm and welcoming, shot through with a deep ocean-blue.
She blinked again and the strange vision faded.
“Do you see it?” Bryn asked from far away.
Was he asking her? Her lips tingled and she tried to move them to answer, but then she heard Ethan reply, “Yes. Look, if I—”
She didn’t hear the rest. A rush of charcoal-black poured over her in an overwhelming tsunami of roiling darkness. The dust motes and the sunbeams were swept away as her entire body—her entire being—was filled with fire. Her nerves, her veins, every cell in her body burned as if she’d been dropped into a pan full of hot oil. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear screaming.
“What the fuck is happening? Stop this! You’re hurting her!” Zach’s voice was frantic, but so very far away. Too far to reach.
She took a ragged, gasping breath. God. She couldn’t see. Why was everything so dark?
“Sit down, Zach. Now.” Was that Bryn?
“I’ve got this,” Ethan insisted.
Another wave of darkness tossed her into its current and she flailed wildly. And then she was sinking. Sinking and drowning and breathing darkness. This was what death would feel like. This vast, lonely pit of nothing.
“Come here, Emma,” a voice called and she shuddered. She knew that voice. Knew it, and feared it.
She opened her eyes. She was in her wardrobe. She’d taken Tiger—her favorite stuffed toy—and made a den. Daddy didn’t want her to have soft toys anymore. She was ten years old and too big for cuddling now. But Mummy gave her Tiger and now that Mummy was gone, Tiger stayed with her. Tiger slept in her bed. Tiger agreed that her new locket was beautiful and that Zach was their best friend in the world. And Tiger didn’t want to see Daddy any more than she did.
Daddy had left her alone, mostly. He wasn’t interested in children until they were Shadow Weavers—he’d told this to Mummy once, and Emma heard him. But when Mummy got sick, he changed his mind. He’d told her she could help save Mummy. She needed to give her blood so that he could find a cure. And she had. She had given bags and bags. But Mummy had died anyway.
She wrapped her arms around Tiger and kissed him gently on the head, using his soft fur to wipe away the tears under her eyes.
