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With one more glance towards Blake and Dakota, Chance decided he had waited long enough.

He extended his finger and just sort of poked at the guy that was struggling desperately against his shadowy restraints.

I would have laughed, but the shadows retracted as the spirit suddenly flickered in and out of existence, and then converged at the small point of contact, streaming into Chance like a genie in a bottle, only in reverse. And it was a fingertip, not a spout.

I wasn’t given the opportunity to watch for long, because Morty pushed my own gift closer until we touched, and then the same thing happened.

He folded in on himself until he was nothing more than a swirling vortex of energy, like whisps of white mist that I sucked into me without further fanfare.

It was quick, over in an instant, but I felt the barrage of his memories as he attempted to fight the pull of my own energy.

It was a short battle, one that I won easily, but I didn’t want his memories.

I didn’t want to experience the evil he had spread throughout his life.

With Bianca, she had been kind. Good. Her memories were welcome, and I’d accepted them out of respect for her and her sacrifice.

This guy… he wasn’t warm like she was. He felt slimy.

Sickly. Poisonous. I knew that if I ever tapped into his consciousness, I wouldn’t ever be the same again.

So, with great effort, I constructed a wall between us.

It made his passage into me more difficult, like trying to suck a drink through an obstructed straw.

It hurt, and my shadows whipped about me as the pain tried to take over.

It dropped me to my knees, but I bit back the scream that threatened to force itself from my throat and took it.

I would rather have a short moment of physical pain than an eternity of this fucker’s memories plaguing me like persistent nightmares I would never be rid of.

I grunted as the pain sharpened for a fraction of a second, and then sagged when it ended.

I felt both exhausted from the ordeal and reenergised at the same time, and I tilted my head up from where I knelt to see how Chance was doing.

Alarm shot through me when I saw him floating horizontally above his grave, a few feet in the air.

Air which swirled around him, sucking in one small tendril of shadow.

Then another. And then another, until there were enough to cover him in a protective sphere.

Blake and Dakota rushed past, though I didn’t spare them a second glance.

The wind was whipping around them so harshly that they had to push through it to get back inside, but I couldn’t bring myself to care that what was happening was affecting the living realm so intensely.

Chance’s eyes were closed, his face slack.

He was unconscious, which was not a natural state to be in after death.

Sleep’s purpose was to mend the damage done to the body during the day, but we no longer had physical bodies to heal.

‘He’s okay,’ Morty said, closer than I expected him to be. He placed a steady hand on my shoulder, which I covered with my own.

‘Did this happen to me?’

‘Yes. Though I’m sure the memories you received were a lot more pleasant than the ones he’s currently experiencing.’

My heart clenched, afraid for him. He didn’t deserve to live the life of a rapist, especially one that targeted children. Even if those memories weren’t his own, I remembered how Bianca’s felt as they twisted with mine. I couldn’t tell whose memories were whose until I woke up again.

‘It will take some time for him to complete the transformation. Perhaps it would be prudent to use that time to test your new strength.’ Morty’s words made sense, but that didn’t mean I wanted to hear them.

The thought of leaving Chance alone to go through this wasn’t an option, but it didn’t have to be.

I tore my eyes away from the swirling black mass of writhing shadows that were slowly creeping closer to Chance’s prone form, compressing around him like they were trying to tether themselves to his soul.

That was exactly what they were doing, I realised in awe.

There were no shadows obscuring Mortimer from my sight.

His handsome face was bared for me to see, his strong body on full display.

He was naked, his cock jutting out like an expectant friend eager to greet me after years apart.

I arched a brow, amused at his offering, but that amusement quickly shrivelled up when my gaze met his.

Dark eyes bore down on me with an intensity that felt almost too much to bear. He wasn’t joking around. He wasn’t hiding behind his shadows. He was showing me exactly who he was beneath the surface.

He was offering himself to me.

I’ve brought gifts.

No, not just me. Chance may not be able to see him right now, but this offering was for the both of us.

He was proving his worth, stripping himself bare and revealing himself in the most vulnerable way he could.

His cock was hard, but it wasn’t begging to be touched.

It was a message. A silent, beautiful declaration.

I rose, levitating higher so we were on the same level, and met his eyes with an intensity of my own. Then, I slanted my lips over his and sealed my acceptance of him with a kiss.