Page 40

The temperature dropped, and I instinctively reached for Miles—to protect him, of course, as he was the one frightened of spirits—as the ghost’s dark gaze landed on me.

I was supposed to be brave. So why, suddenly, did I feel so very vulnerable?

“What?” James asked.

Beside me, Anthony's expression hardened, the earlier guilt replaced by a steely determination. Brayden and Finn stepped forward.

“Prepare yourselves,” Finn stated, his voice cutting through the tension.

“Wait—” Brayden held out his arm. “We’re not here to fight,” he told the ghost, his voice calm and confident. “We want to help you.”

“Why?” James’s mouth curled back in a snarl, and even though he was dead, there was something inhuman about him. His movements were jerky, and his aura jagged. “What could you possibly do now?” he asked. He looked past Brayden—past Finn—and my skin crawled as our eyes met.

“It’s your fault,” he told me, showing off his sharp teeth. “She’s gone, and it’s all because of you.”

Finn stepped between us, moving his hands in a motion I didn’t recognize, and grabbed my shoulder.

But I ignored his silent warning.

“I—” My tongue felt too large, and my mouth dry. “You—you need to move on,” I told him. “Otherwise, you’re going to get exorcized.”

James’s face twisted, and there was no indication that he understood me. “Why would you send her away?” he asked, bowing his head.

“Please,” I continued. My focus was unraveling, and it was becoming more difficult to think clearly. “You can’t stay here anymore.”

“She needs me,” James said, grabbing at his hair. “I can’t protect her out there,” he told me, and my thoughts spun. “She has to stay!”

“James,” Brayden cut in. “Rosalie has already moved on. We’re discussing you now.”

“Shut your mouth!” James snarled, glaring at the other fae. A dark wave rose over the ghost’s feet as he turned. “I don’t care about that. I don’t have time for this!”

The circle burned an orange-red, and James, whose form had flickered, stood straight as his eyes widened.

“What are you doing?” James asked, hands shaking. “Let me go!”

“The only place you’re going is to the Underworld,” Finn said, crossing his arms. Then, in the most insensitive way he could, he added, “So stop with the dramatics. I have better things to do than deal with you. ”

“Finn!” I glowered at him. Why did he have to open his mouth? Couldn’t he see that James was unstable?

“No,” James snarled. “I have to go back—she needs me!” His form began to flicker as he fought against the spell, but ultimately, even Miles—an ungraduated novice in the ways of trapping ghosts—was too powerful for him to beat.

A sense of hopelessness and frustration pulled at me. I’d gotten him here, expecting, on some level, my instincts to guide me—as they had with Rosalie. But there was nothing, and James was not receptive to our communication.

What had I done with Rosalie, exactly?

“James?” I lifted my chin, calling to him, but he did not appear to hear me. I released Miles’s arm, moved away from Anthony’s side, and stepped past the others. “You cannot stay here,” I told him.

I’d touched Rosalie. It’d helped her.

Maybe I could help him too. But we were running out of time. Damen was sure to know that his plan had been foiled by now.

“It’s time to go,” I said, reaching for him. “Before it’s too late.”

Right now, he did not resemble the terrible, violent ghost who’d attacked us. But, instead, was the picture of a confused, lost man. As I drew near, fingertips about to brush across his arm, he looked up.

I froze as something seemed to snap in his expression.

“No, I won’t let you!” James hissed as he raised his arm, reaching for my neck, but Brayden—who’d been the nearest—reacted quickly. He pulled me back as James’s touch met with air, and we fell to the ground.

“Miles,” Finn said, suddenly standing at our side. “Get out of here and reinforce the wards. We can’t let him get away.”

I had enough time to see that the witch obeyed before James became a blur of force. The ghost lunged for me once more— death in his features—before being knocked back by the onmyoji.

James crashed against the circle and landed on his side. An uncontrolled wind ripped through the clearing, and the moonlight vanished behind the clouds, yet the ghost made no move to get back up.

Finn shook his head, and my attention moved to the sword in his hands.

Where had he pulled that from?

“I’m already over this,” he said, raising his weapon. Even Anthony, who now stood beside him, had a blade of his own.

“Don’t exorcise him!” Brayden said, his grip tightening. “Finn, listen to me. There’s another way to make him leave. I only need you to stall for a minute.”

Anthony paused, glancing at us, but Finn disregarded Brayden’s protest.

“There’s only one person I’ll listen to,” Finn replied. “And it’s certainly not you.”

I moved to my feet, my uneasiness rising as the night seemed to crawl over our surroundings, launching everything into shadow. I could barely make out James’s form, but still, my heart raced with an urgency I couldn’t ignore.

“Finn, please.” I moved next to him and grasped his sleeve.

Finn didn’t reply, but after a moment, his shoulders dropped as he threw his head back to stare at the darkening sky. “Fine,” he sighed. “Just so long as—”

A dark, heavy cloud descended over us before he could finish his statement, and even though, a moment before, I’d been surrounded by three others, the warmth of their presence disappeared.

“F-Finn?” I stepped to the left, where Finn had been only a second before, but my fingers grasped nothing. “Brayden? A-Anthony?”

Where was everyone?

With my other senses dulled, I could only rely on my hearing—which wasn’t comforting at all.

A sense of helplessness rose through me as the silence pressed in around me.

The atmosphere held a smokiness that made it impossible to see, and nothing existed outside of the sound of my own labored breathing.

“It’s finally quiet,” James Cole said.

I turned, meeting his blood-red gaze, and the screaming in my mind fell silent.

My fear was erased as I watched him, and when he grinned—teeth flashing in the night—I was unmoved. Instead, the strangest sense of peace had come over me, as the fine line between his emotions and my own was finally crossed.

There was no need to be afraid. He was the one who had the most to lose. I wasn’t alone, yet he was almost entirely lost.

However, despite the madness, despite what I knew of Rosalie’s memories, there was something that I still quite didn’t understand. He stepped toward me, and I couldn’t help but ask, “Why didn’t you help her?”

If James cared for Rosalie as much as he claimed, to the point where it drove him to attack others in the afterlife, then why didn’t he help her when she was alive?

James paused, scowling as he backed away. “I didn’t ask for this to happen. He told me that we were helping!”

I moved, feeling as though I was walking through a dream, as I closed the distance between us. His eyes widened as I reached for him.

What was I missing?

“Stay away!” he said again, and a force knocked into my chest, throwing me back against the ground. The earth shook under me, and panic clawed over the short distance between us.

Beside me, a presence—one of the others—was approaching. I held out my arm, stopping them. “No.”

This was between me and James Cole. I’d called him here. I had to do this on my own.

I covered my nose to block the smell of sulfur. The swell of emotions pushed and pulled at me from every direction, and even though there was lingering darkness, I could see him clearly.

He’s lost, not evil. He’s not in control of his emotions—his reactions—and is a victim in his own way.

There it was, that voice once more—a light male tenor with a musical quality that, last time, had given me the wisdom and encouragement to set Rosalie free. This was what I’d been waiting for.

We can save him, but doing so in your current state will come at a personal cost.

My chest tightened as my trepidation increased. It would be so tempting to let things work out differently. But I had a responsibility.

Help him regain control.

I pushed to my knees—but Finn was suddenly kneeling in front of me.

“Bianca, no ,” he said, and his steadfast refusal made me pause. “I told you before; you can’t rely too much on your abilities.”

Who was he to say what I could and couldn’t do? “I haven’t taken my medication for weeks,” I told him and pulled my arm from his grasp.

“That’s why!” he protested. “We don’t know what will happen!”

“It’ll be fine!” I moved to my feet.

“No.” Finn was glowering at me, and my chest tightened. He grabbed my wrist, halting my progress. “I refuse to allow it. You could die.”

I pushed my hands against him. “I’m not going to die!”

“Hey—” Brayden touched my shoulder. “Let me help.”

Like Anthony and Finn, Brayden had also somehow acquired a weapon—which was somewhat demoralizing, because I’d never been offered one. His good-natured features had shifted into something more solemn and unreadable, but there was still a warmth in how he looked at me.

“But,” I began. There really was no reason why he couldn’t; he was, after all, supposed to be an officer and very strong. But what about me?

“Just in case Finn is right,” Brayden said, lifting the corner of his lips. “Besides, better me than Bryce. I’ve more control of my empathic abilities—he has trouble connecting with others.”

“But—” I started again. What if something happened? Then it’d be my fault.

“Besides, have you even done channeling before?” Brayden asked me. “Or did you read about it this morning in that book I checked out for you today?”

I closed my mouth and looked away. Why did he have to be right?

“It’s not your place to take any reckless chances.” Brayden winked. “That’s my job. You’ve done well getting him this far. I’ll take over from here. Why don’t you watch to see it in action, and then you can do it with me next time?”