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“So”—Brayden stood beside me while Miles completed his salt circle. Even though he’d been so happy with Anthony, he was much more serious when he approached me—“have you thought about how you’re going to summon the ghost?”

“You can’t just wish it to you?” I clarified.

“No,” Brayden said, shaking his head.

Then, not all my research was useless, and my ghost documentaries were accurate once more.

“It’s a good thing I have this, then,” I said, reaching into my pocket and pulling out the ring that once was mine.

I held it in my palm between the two of us.

“I used it with Rosalie, but I think there might be a connection here too.”

“What the hell?” Miles exclaimed, looking up from his salt circle. “Did you steal it from my bag?”

“I did not steal anything,” I said, holding it to my chest. “I’m borrowing it. Besides, I left the watch, so you won’t even notice.”

Miles was pouting. “But I don’t want Julian’s watch.”

“I can’t believe you still have that thing.” Finn was looking at it with a narrowed gaze. “It had to have been down in that basement for at least fifty years.”

“It’s cursed,” Miles said, joining us as he finished his work. The five of us stood in a circle as we looked down into my hand.

“Jin looked at it this afternoon,” Miles continued.

“It’s a relic that targets any female with a certain type of power and puts them under a tracking spell.

There are probably more out there. Jin deactivated the spell, but there’s a remaining connection between Bianca and the male ghost. That’s why Damen planned on performing the exorcism regardless. We’re hoping to sever that bond.”

I glanced at him—this was the first I’d heard of this—but he didn’t look at me.

“That means that Rosalie probably wasn’t the original owner,” Brayden said, stroking his chin.

I shifted my weight as I thought. “We still don’t know how she died.”

“And we still don’t know who gave this ring to her,” Brayden said, looking at Anthony. The other man stood with his arms crossed, and Brayden spoke to him and added, “I bet it was the ghost we’re trying to contact.”

“That was the next step,” Miles looked at the ground. “Julian was going to look into it before the ritual, but—” And there was a hint of disapproval in his tone this time. “They were determined to move forward no matter what they found.”

Anthony pressed his lips together and nodded, holding out his hand. “Give it here,” he told me. His eyes met mine, and my mouth went dry. At this moment, he was very much like Julian.

“I’m on your side,” he told me, his smile a bit sad this time. “I’ll find out what I can.”

“O-okay,” I answered, moving my hand closer to his. If he stayed far, far away from my memories, everything would be all right. He glanced at me, then bridged the gap between us and reached for the ring to pluck it out of my hand.

My heart lurched as the ground fell away. I fell into the darkness. A horrible buzzing—the ear-piercing sound of a million overlapping voices—radiated through the air, and pinpricks of light rushed past me.

Then, before I could reach for one, a window of brightness flew directly at me, and my feet were on solid ground once more.

“Bianca?” Anthony’s muffled voice was the only word I could make out as he gripped my arm.

I opened my eyes, meeting his curious yet somewhat alarmed expression.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice clearer. If I wasn’t mistaken, he seemed somewhat afraid.

“I…” I glanced around the room, unsure where this damp, dirt-covered room even was. “I don’t know,” I told him.

Then I spotted Rosalie.

She was much different than when I’d seen her last. She was huddled in a corner of the dark space with us. Her arms were wrapped around her knees, and iron chains encircled her wrists and ankles. My skin hummed in sympathy at the sight of her dark bruises.

What had happened? She was supposed to have moved on.

I started to her, but Anthony stopped me, gripping my arm.

“It’s a memory,” he told me, features grim. “There’s nothing you can do here.”

A sense of dread began to fill me, and I touched my knuckle to my lips as Anthony dropped his hand back to his side .

I was shivering as the waves of her terror crashed against me, drowning out my own emotions.

Rosalie’s head snapped up, and for an instant, it felt like she was staring at me. But as Anthony turned, I, too, saw the presence passing between us.

My breaths escaped in the same short gasps as the girl before me as the shadowy figure of a man knelt in front of her.

“Bianca?” Anthony suddenly stood beside me, his hand hovering above my back. He hesitated as he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I—I can feel her emotions and pain.” My voice was shaking. “Is—is that normal?”

“You being here is not normal, but…” He frowned as he looked between us. “You are a medium with empathic abilities. I suppose it’s possible.”

I was trembling as the dark form began to take shape.

“She’s going to die,” I said, looking at Anthony. “Isn’t she?”

Anthony didn’t respond before the scene moved forward, and a tall, gangly man barely past his teens took shape in front of Rosalie.

My panic welled in my chest, compounded by Rosalie’s emotions, as I recognized the man who’d almost killed me.

“Are you okay?” he asked, much less murderous than when he’d attacked me. “It’s my fault; I didn’t realize. We can use Eleanor instead, then we can finally be together—”

The anger in Rosalie’s eyes blazed despite her fear. “That’s not all right at all.”

The man tilted his head, looking genuinely unsure. “Why not?”

“I will never be with you, James Cole.” Rosalie’s voice held the underlying hint of panic, and she moved to her knees as she reached into the folds of her dress.

Her movements were jerky as she pulled out the ring and threw it at him.

He made no move to catch it, and it rolled into a corner, out of sight.

But she didn’t seem to care. “You are married to my sister,” Rosalie snapped. “What’s more, your family has hurt people.”

“But—” James was still frowning and genuinely confused. “We have no choice. There’s no one else strong enough to look out for the best interests of our people.”

“And even if neither of those things were true,” she snapped, “I still wouldn’t marry you. Not even if you were the last man on earth.”

“That’s rather rude,” another male said, and an unobtrusive, not-quite-middle-aged man stepped into the scene. “Anyone would be honored to join our family. Regardless, you’ll still play a part in our line’s success.”

The newcomer was an average-looking man of medium height, build, and appearance. Nothing indicated that he was in any way remotely strong or frightening, yet the spike of fear radiating from Rosalie was enough to take my breath away.

“Edward!” She spoke in a firm voice despite her feelings. “You won’t get away with this.”

The hair on the back of my neck stood straight as he studied Rosalie, and the way his mouth twisted into a smirk filled me with dread.

“Father?” James wrung his hands as he looked between them. “What are you talking about?”

“Eleanor was not chosen,” Edward Cole said, moving to his son’s side. “It works out better this way. It would look suspicious for your wife to disappear. Her younger sister, on the other hand, is much more convenient.”

James shifted his weight to his other foot. “But…” He hesitated, as if arguing were foreign to him. “But I don’t love her. ”

“Who cares?” Edward pushed past his son and more fully faced Rosalie.

“What is your specialty?” he asked with a huff. “Your sister is decent with soul connections. However, I feel that you’re much more useful. Are you a fighter? You have a shikigami.”

A cat that had been hiding behind Rosalie peeked around her and hissed. However, for some reason, it appeared unable to defend its owner.

Rosalie squared her shoulders. “What I can do is none of your business.”

The wind was knocked from me as I was suddenly gutted, and I doubled over in pain.

“Bianca!” Anthony was kneeling at my side and tentatively touched my shoulders.

I glanced up, unable to respond, as Edward stood back, lowering his leg. Meanwhile, Rosalie was gasping for breath as she curled in on herself, much like I was, in the aftermath of the sudden attack.

“Father!” James protested, yet he stood still, fists clenched at his side. For all his proclamations of love, he did not move to help her.

Anthony’s grip tightened as the sharp edges of the pain washed away, and his attention moved across the room to the scene.

“Well, shit,” he said.

Through the fading pain, another emotion was beginning to make itself known, its origins feeling vaguely familiar.

Resistance… and indecision. But whose? This was Rosalie’s memory.

I glanced at James. He was watching the scene with an almost impassive look, but now I could feel him. But how ?

‘You’ve claimed them both.’ As the thought raced through my mind, it suddenly made sense. ‘ They both need you.’

But then pain crashed into my chest once more, and I gasped, trying to focus on Anthony’s words of comfort while, before us, Edward had returned to beating Rosalie.

I could no longer think, no longer catch my breath, as the surrounding pressure threatened to suffocate me. And it felt as though an eternity passed before the aftermath ebbed. My body ached, and it was so, so hard to breathe, to focus on Anthony’s apologies.

Rosalie had curled into a ball at Edward’s feet. He circled her like a predator as he paused. “You’re no fighter.” He seemed perplexed. “You have no stamina or resistance. Then what is it—reading? Or perhaps, seeing auras?”

Rosalie remained silent a breath longer, and I was afraid she wouldn’t answer. At some point, I reached up and grabbed Anthony’s shirt, and even my fingertips hurt against the fabric.

Please answer—I didn’t want to go through that again.

My heart pounded as Edward’s features twisted in annoyance, and just when I thought he might hit her again, she finally spoke.