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We might have escaped from the basement, but we were far from safe. Finn did not stop running until we reached the backyard. It was only when the grasping force had dwindled down into almost nothing that his steps slowed.

I pressed my fists against his back and pushed my chest off his shoulder. I ignored the rain pelting against my face as I stared behind us. Professor Hamway’s yard was abundant in trees, but the branches were mostly bare for the upcoming winter, so there was no protection from the elements. I was watching for signs that anything had followed.

“What was that?” I asked.

Finn’s frame tensed as his hold shifted, and an instant later, I was back on my feet while he stepped away. “Sorry,” he muttered. “You’re really clumsy.”

I frowned. That was not true, and he knew it. “Anyone would have tripped.”

“I didn’t,” he pointed out.

That was because he was naturally gifted in athletics. What I wouldn’t give to see him fall flat on his face at least once. And I would have told him so too, but there was a twinging pain in the center of my chest that was growing harder to ignore.

I turned my attention back toward the house and pushed my fist against my sternum. The pressure helped, at least. We were standing in the middle of a downpour, but it hadn’t been raining when I went to bed.

“What do we do now?” I asked. I didn’t have my phone or student card with me, so there was no way to swipe into my dorm room or contact Damen. Maybe the guys were looking for me? But it was unlikely they realized I was even gone.

Instead of answering, Finn grabbed my wrist. “What’s wrong?” he asked, attention riveted to my chest.

My skin grew clammy under his scrutiny—it wasn’t like this nightshirt was made of hardy fabric—and I stuttered, “W-what?”

There’d only been one time I’d been this close to being unclothed around him.

“Why are you holding yourself like that?” There was a panicked edge in his expression, and I wasn’t sure why. But the way his features drew together in pinched concern scared me.

“N-no reason,” I said. The pain was already getting better, so why was he acting this way?

“Are you taking your medication?” Finn grabbed my shoulders, fingers tight, as he stared into my face.

This was the third time he’d asked me this question, but, this time, I could truly see the terror in his eyes. Why was this so important to him? “N-no.”

His complexion turned ashen, and he brought his hand to his forehead. “Bianca”—Although he was the one who’d betrayed me, why was he looking at me like I’d hurt him worst—“why?”

“I-I don’t want to,” I reasoned, and that should be enough of an answer. Nothing bad had happened so far. “I’m okay. ”

Why was I reassuring him?

It didn’t work. Finn was not comforted. His jaw locked, and his expression closed into a blank mask. “Fine,” he said. A short movement rippled along the bottom of my feet, quick and vanishing, and the outside atmosphere changed.

Finn squared his shoulders as he held his arms out by his side. “Then I’ll just have to do it the hard way.”

I bit my lip. Do… what?

He did not explain. He looked at the rain, at the bare branches towering above us, and his jaw locked.

What did he see?

A crack popped against my ears, and the wind knocked me from my feet as I was suddenly pulled into Finn’s embrace. We fell to the ground, him over me, as a thick branch crashed to the ground where we’d just been standing.

“Stay down,” Finn told me, and when he jumped to his feet, he had a long sword ready in his grasp. Not even once in the entire time I’ve known him had I ever seen Finn use a weapon—he didn’t even fence! He’d always been into fisticuffs and more personal methods.

Besides, where did he even get a sword?

“Finn…” I began, but my voice echoed through the space as more branches began to fall from the sky. Finn lunged forward, slicing through the air in a circular swoop. Broken leaves and twigs dropped around us, sparing the space Finn had attacked. The ground began to burn a faint glow as the dust quickly settled from the rain.

“Come out!” Finn called—his focus remained in the sky. “Fight me!”

The presence that’d just tried to hurt us in the basement—the same from when I’d almost drowned in the bath—had returned, blanketing the area in a suffocating weight. Whatever Finn had done to drive it away was no longer working, and now it was angrier than ever before.

“You’re not the one I want,” it screamed. My throat closed at the touch of the spirit’s hissing voice, and I pressed myself further against the dirt.

Finn told me to stay down. I’d stay down.

The light had vanished from the ground, and the warmth faded from beneath my fingers. Finn looked at me, and our gazes locked for less than a breath before a white-hot pain clamped around my ankle, and the voice screamed, “It’s her!”

I shrieked, and my heart burst with panic as I was dragged backward along the ground toward the house. Fear threatened to choke me, and adrenaline flooded my system. Why was it doing this? Why did it want to hurt me?

The ground shook as I was suddenly released. My breath was erratic, and my throat hurt, but the pressing need to see my surroundings overruled the pain. I rolled over as Finn moved back into an attack position. He now stood between me and the house.

“I’m not leaving,” he said. I could barely hear him over the sound of my pulse pounding in my ears. “You’ll have to take us both.”

That fool ! What good would that do? How could he avenge me then?

But, at the moment, he was plenty threatening. Maybe the ghost would give up and go away. There was a lingering pause, undecided, pregnant in the atmosphere. I could scarcely breathe.

Maybe the spirit was as afraid of Finn as I was of it?

But the air shifted, and my heart sank.

“Okay,” the spirit’s voice rang loud through the space. As the force grew stronger, gravity pushed Finn to his knees and me back into the mud. The wind was suffocating with furious emotions, but at the depths of it, there was the smallest hint of grief.

“You sent her away!” It was growing angrier. “How could you do that?”

What…

I couldn’t contemplate it. Ripping, tearing pain radiated from every direction as I was lifted into the air. There was only the pained howl of the furious ghost ringing in my ears.

But I didn’t understand—I’d been able to help the other ghost. It felt right.

Why was the feeling of this ghost so different? Why was it so angry?

It’s not the right time yet .

The thought cut through the frenzy, and even though the chaos rang strong around me, I had a moment of clarity.

It wasn’t that the ghost couldn’t be saved. There was still hope.

But then the thought was lost. My hair was whipping around me, hopelessly tangled from the force of the hurricane, and a crushing weight was pressing against my chest. I choked, and black spots danced along the corners of my vision as, suddenly, Finn and I were roughly thrown into each other back-to-back. I blindly felt through the growing darkness, reaching for the source, but was unable to grasp onto anything.

Behind me, I could feel Finn struggling, too, and my heart sank as I realized our situation was hopeless.

I was dying, and as the long seconds passed, the dimming, buzzing sensation began to sink into my thoughts as the end drew closer.

This ghost was going to kill me.

I hoped Finn remembered that I’d told him this was going to happen, even as he, too, grasped for his last breath .

Just as the last grain of hope began to slip from my fingers, and my limbs turned lax, a furious shout pierced through the night. A violent wave of energy passed over me, and a sharp pain radiated from my hip as Finn and I fell onto the lawn.

We were ambushed instantly, and a hurried touch pressed against my shoulders. My head spun, and I coughed as I turned toward the soft, warm surface holding me.

“Bianca!” The touch moving over me was now gentler, much less urgent, and migrated to the side of my face. I peeked at the owner.

“Are you okay?” Miles asked. He’d wrapped his much larger form around mine, and everything was better within his shadow despite there being an angry ghost nearby.

And wasn’t it Miles who was somewhat useless against spirits?

But as I looked into his concerned chestnut-colored eyes, I couldn’t help but relax into his honeying comfort. He was terrified of ghosts, yet he was here, in the midst of evil, to help me.

“I’m fine,” I said, grabbing his hand. His heartbeat was thundering against my cheek. I was so proud of him.

“I’m glad.” His returning grin was only a little shaky.

“Oh, knock it off,” Finn scoffed. He’d pushed into a seated position beside us. His voice was strangely strangled but still familiar to my ears as he continued. “This is hardly the time or place for any nauseating displays.”

“You knock it off!” I glared at him, noting that, outside of his mussed hair and askew glasses, he appeared to be quite alive.

It was good, at least, that the ghost hadn’t murdered or maimed him too badly.

But he had a point. Finn was nothing if not logical. We’d just been almost killed, and there was still a taint to the air, an unsettling eeriness moving between the shadows of the trees, even though the attack had subsided.

He was still ready to fight, warily scanning the area, and Miles was tense. It was obvious, though, that they were conceding to Damen, Julian, and Titus’s far more imposing forms.

But I had to admit if only to myself, Finn’s continually evolving experience in battle remained impressive.

“Are you okay?” Damen’s query stifled my dangerous thoughts—I was nowhere near ready to rekindle my friendship with Finn—as he left his defensive formation and knelt in front of me. Behind him, Titus and Julian stood guard, both watchful, yet allowing their curious attention to drift to the four of us.

I swallowed as Damen’s fingers lingered over my cheek—I must have gotten scratched as I’d been dragged across the ground—and I shivered. Julian, still watching us, silently frowned.

“How did you get here?” Damen asked.

So nosy. Yet…

Why was my heart racing at his worried expression? However, I couldn’t answer him. I touched my trembling fingers to my lips.

I didn’t know the answer to that either.

“I…” How could I describe it? “I walked. I think,” I muttered the last part.

Even more importantly, “How did you know where I was?” I asked.

“Never mind,” Damen scowled. “We’ll figure it out later.” Instead of pressing forward, he turned to Finn.

“What happened?” he asked him. Although he’d only spoken two words, there was an expectation of something more hidden within them.

“There’s a spirit trying to kill Bianca,” Finn said, standing even as he said the obvious. He would not look at Damen. “ Maybe it’s too stubborn to move on, or it could be lonely. How should I know? I’m not an expert on ghosts.”

“And why are you here?” Damen asked.

“I…” Finn opened his mouth, this time glancing toward me. “Coincidence.”

Damen clearly did not believe his brother, but before he could respond, a resounding screech began to echo through the area. I was suddenly suffocating under the tension of Miles’s tightening grip as the men shifted into quick alertness.

There was a shout—I wasn’t sure from where—and with an agility I hadn’t thought possible from the broad, muscular-framed witch, Miles picked me up and jumped only an instant before a thick branch crashed into the ground. The wind screamed, whipping around us, as the momentary abasement ended.

“Bring her back!” The air reeked with malice, grabbing, pulling at my bare ankles. My skin prickled in terror as the bone-chilling command seemed to cling to my feet. My clothes pulled, the thin gown tearing, as the voice grew louder in its desperation to drag me from my defender. “Give her to me!”

Even though I could feel Miles’s arms gripping my shoulders, a steady force anchoring me to earth, I was drowning.

Just as suddenly, the pressure released, and I gasped as the bitter, night air forcibly rushed into my lungs.

“Shit…” I could barely read the curse forming on Miles’s lips, but his focus was not on me. It was to the front of us where the darkness was broken by the deep red glow seeping from the dirt around Damen’s feet. The smoke-like light moved like fingers across the onmyoji’s feet and slowly rose around his calves.

“What’s happening?” I asked, tightening my grip on the neck of Miles’s tank top. It was impossible to tear my eyes from Damen’s tense, readied form. Sharp, hurried markings were etched into the ground, and it was from there that the light originated. But what stood out was that, in his hands, in a practiced pose raised high over his head, was a bright golden sword.

“Damen’s exorcizing the ghost,” Miles said, speaking directly into my ear. “He’s going to send it directly into the Underworld.”

I winced in response.

Exorcize . The only things I knew were what I’d seen or read in fiction, and I had no idea how much of it was accurate. But it seemed to be an unpleasant business.

“Why?” I asked.

Miles glanced down at me; eyebrows lifted in dubious surprise. “Because it tried to hurt you?”

Was that a question? Besides, why should that offend him?

I was always getting attacked by something or other. If Damen was going to get angry anytime something happened, he would become an unpleasant person to be around.

But even if that was the case, what was this tightening knot in my stomach?

Damen was here—these men were the ones with experience. Heck, even Bryce knew more than me right now. And it was a bad ghost, without a doubt. I wasn’t sure what I’d done to offend it, but it’d tried to kill me twice… or thrice, maybe.

I was beginning to lose count.

But this was wrong. I wanted to help it, not send it away.

Damen muttered something in a low language I’d never heard before, yet the words were hauntingly familiar. Then he lowered his weapon with a powerful, arching flourish. A bright light in the shape of an arc sliced through the dark before it moved harmlessly over the six of us.

And singled out the hidden seventh.

There was a screeching wail as something fell to the ground, and a man, wrapped in chains, landed on his knees in front of Damen. My blood froze and my skin hummed as I took him in, and I allowed myself to linger in this protected place behind my wall of defenders.

Was this what Rosalie had been protecting me from? But he didn’t look much older than me, and from appearance, he was not as evil as I expected.

He had light blond hair that fell across his red-rimmed eyes, and his pin-striped slacks and silk shirt were ripped to pieces around him. Spirits usually stayed dressed in the garments in which they died, and sometimes it was very telling about their lives.

This was a wealthy man who’d perished in questionable, unpleasant circumstances.

He tried to kill me. He would still kill me if given the chance. I could see it clearly in his hateful expression.

But it didn’t make sense. Why?

‘ Maybe it’s lonely.’ Finn had said it, although I was sure he was being sarcastic. However, he wasn’t wrong.

‘ He doesn’t understand.’ Rosalie’s parting words…

Watching him… he was also a victim, lashing out against the closest threat.

“Wait!” I jumped to my feet. It would be stupid to intervene, especially since Damen was aglow with magic, and interference might cause problems.

But it was one thing to fear this ghost when it remained a faceless thing seeking to destroy me. Now, though, it had become something else entirely.

I was no longer afraid. I couldn’t let things end this way. I was being driven forward with a certain assurance, the same feeling I’d followed when speaking to Rosalie.

Not everything was as it seemed. And I was not one to make life-altering decisions without knowing all the details.

There were four people standing between me and Damen, but my weightless steps let me pass them before they could even turn.

“Don’t hurt him!” I stood between Damen and the ghost. My heart was racing. I was intervening in his work, undermining a decision he’d made as the self-proclaimed leader of their little group.

What would this mean for our friendship?

But I couldn’t stop. With every beat of my heart, I knew this was right. “Leave him alone!”

“Bianca…” Instead of anger, Damen’s expression was shocked. But honestly, that was understandable, considering I couldn’t believe I was standing here either. “What are you—”

It happened quickly, yet the moment felt like a lifetime.

A rumble vibrated across the earth, and the wind roared as a tightening spiral of energy shook from behind me. I turned, catching eyes with the spirit as it stood and broke out of his bindings.

“This is all your fault,” he told me. There was a note in his voice that shook me to my core, and I stared.

My fault. My fault. Why did that accusation cause the dread to pool in my stomach?

“And now it’s too late.” But had he spoken that last bit out loud? I couldn’t tell, but I didn’t see his lips moving. Yet his words were a warning, or maybe a threat. It was hard to tell.

Yet there was no time to commiserate before the winding pressure exploded. My hair tangled around my shoulders as the blood-red marks on the ground dissipated, and a savage whirlwind burst outward as the trapped spirit escaped.

I saw it coming—not an attack, but the last remnants of the spirit’s violent departure. It caused the wind to bend into a cold, slicing force as it fought to return to its natural state.

And I was going to get hit with the force of it.

Someone shouted, but it was so far away that it didn’t matter. The only important thing was flight. A breath, a blink after the slightest whisper of a blade against my cheek, and then it was over.

I stumbled forward, grasping for balance over the mossy grass. It was disorientating to again, find myself someplace where I hadn’t been an instant before. Maybe I’d blacked out, because otherwise, how was it possible to be behind those that’d been at my back?

It was a moment suspended in time.

Four enthralled faces—and one dejected, pouty expression belonging to Finn—stared back at me. Shock ran heavy through the group, and the surrounding remorse that followed their unwavering attention threatened to press me into the ground.

What did I do? Were they really that angry?

“S-sorry.” I touched my lips as my voice broke from apprehension. “I-I didn’t mean to.”

Well, actually, I kind of did. The ghost running away, however, was not in my plan.

It was as if the floodgates had opened, and movement scattered across the area. It was Julian—who had been the closest—who reached me first.

“What are you…” he began, but his words trailed in stunned silence. His arms shook as he gripped my shoulders, and his unrestrained gaze was unleashed with a wild disbelief that frightened me. Cerulean blue shone brightly against his face, yet, strangely for someone who’d always been so careful about keeping eye contact with me throughout all our interactions thus far, his gaze did not meet my own.

Instead, his attention had become riveted to my chest. I grew light-headed as the cold night touched my now-exposed skin—because, in the events of the last few moments, I hadn’t entirely escaped the ghost’s attack without lingering side effects. My favorite button-down nightshirt had been sliced open from waist to neck, and my meager assets were on full display.

I wasn’t even wearing a bra. And everyone was staring at me.

Modesty took over, and I crossed my arms.

“Don’t look!” I fell back from Julian. My movements were harsh and uncontrolled. I stumbled, slipping onto the ground, as I fell to my knees and wrapped my hands around my elbows. This was, most possibly, one of the most embarrassing moments of my entire life.

They’d seen it, there was no doubt in my mind—and my promise had been broken. I was helpless once again, unable to protect my most closely guarded secret.

My skin crawled as shame caused my throat to choke.

“I’m sorry!” I apologized. “I’m so sorry.” I hid my face behind my hands, unable to stand their shocked expressions.

Something soft was draped over my shoulders, shielding my nakedness. A warmth drew near, and my stomach twisted as Damen’s presence brushed against mine. “Why are you…” he began, sounding entirely puzzled.

I peered at him through the cracks between my fingers, and his question dropped.

The backyard seemed smaller even though we were now missing one inhabitant. Because within the span of my short breakdown, Finn had vanished.

Maybe that meant I’d flashed four men tonight instead of five. That was marginally better, but not by much.

My focus returned to Damen since he was impossible to ignore. A battle raged in his stern features, and the fire vanished from his eyes as he finally swallowed. Whatever question he’d meant to ask, he abandoned and smiled instead.

“I’m proud of you.” His voice was shaky but sincere .

I stared back at him. What could I possibly have done to make him proud?

And how did I do it again?

“I might not understand your reasons yet,” Damen explained. “But I’m sure you followed your instincts. It must have been difficult to do that, especially since it meant standing against me. I’m proud of you,” he repeated.

So… to please him, I had to do the exact opposite of everything he wanted?

My heartbeat began to relax at this promising news. I could do that.

But then Damen reached for me—his hesitance was clear, but the motion was still startling—and I flinched. I felt guilty as soon as it happened. It was ridiculous and insane for me to be afraid of him. He’d already proven that he wouldn’t hurt me. I knew this.

But…

My emotions were reeling, and the atmosphere remained concentrated with the energy of both spirits that I’d encountered tonight.

Then Damen asked me the strangest question.

“Where were you?”

It was so unexpected and confusing that I blinked out of my stupor.

“What-what do you mean?” I asked, uncovering my face.

Was he in a weird mood again? Obviously, I’d been here the whole time.

“Your whole life,” he clarified. “Where did you go?”

How was I supposed to reply? I didn’t keep track of every address. Had he forgotten I didn’t even know where I was born?

What did he want from me? “Er,” I began.

But he must have noticed my confusion and moved to his knees. His brows were furrowed in rapt concentration. “Hold on,” he grunted as I sat back, alarmed. And before I could run away, he grabbed the bottom of his shirt and tugged it up over his head in such haste that his glasses were knocked askew.

And with that small action, my panic returned.

“What’s going on?” I covered my face again. In no universe did I ever wish to witness Damen stripping. “Why are you getting naked?”

There was no need for us all to lose our clothing.

“Just look at me!” he shamelessly pleaded for me to ogle him. Or perhaps it was I who held dishonorable intentions because I couldn’t stop myself from peeking. “I have a mark too,” he pointed.

Everyone was watching the spectacle that was Damen and I, and I almost felt embarrassed for him until I, playing along, followed the line of his finger.

“Hey!” I closed the distance between us, crawling, as I reached out. I wasn’t even thinking as I touched my pointer finger to the tiny crimson lines at the bottom of Damen’s left pectoral. “That looks like mine.”

I couldn’t help but to study it. They really did look alike, sans some slight differences. For example, the symbol was different, and where the brand under my left breast glimmered a sickly sage green, Damen’s was crimson and bright. And when I touched it—

The thumb-print-sized mark hummed under my fingertips, pulsing in time with every beat of my heart. Was his a birthmark too? Or was there a secret club I didn’t know about—or remember—that gave these things away?

Because I had no memory of any time in my life without it. This symbol was a part of me, a living thing that changed in sensation and touch throughout different stages of my life.

I didn’t understand.

“It’s like mine,” I repeated. “Why—” My voice, which had been weak already, was silenced as Damen pulled me into a fierce hug.

This time, I didn’t move. I didn’t even react much at all. Instead, a slow-moving exhaustion began to cover me like a thick syrup. There was a tingling in my fingers, a low vibration that caused my hands to shake. It grew more intense as a slowly pounding headache began to form at the base of my skull.

Damen said he didn’t understand what’d happened tonight, but honestly, neither did I. It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. How I’d even gotten here and all the events that’d taken place since were beginning to take on a dreamlike quality.

I should be sleeping right now, safe in Damen’s bed. So why wasn’t I?

“Bianca?” Damen’s voice sounded startled as my tired muscles surrendered, and I slumped against him. It was exhausting to be worried all the time. Not to mention the copious amounts of ghostwork I’d encountered tonight.

And now it was safe. I could relax.

Or I could have if the quiet scene hadn’t shifted.

“Bianca, what’s wrong?” his voice was growing even more alarmed, and my attention drifted from his blurry lips as I rested my cheek against his chest. The comforting thumping of his heart was in tune with the warmth radiating from his mark, and it lulled me further. In any other situation, I’d be mortified, but this was an emergency.

Damen’s skin was hot, almost too hot, and I wrinkled my nose in discomfort before a cooling, gentle presence entered the scene.

“Let me have her,” Julian’s voice was close to my ear, and I felt his hand move behind the small of my back. I was too tired to fight the switch between the two men.

Julian was practically a doctor—this should be fine .

But that would only work in a non-dream scenario. In my dreams, he’s more.

“It’s not a dream,” Julian told me. “You’re with us now.”

That sounded like something dream Julian would say. His cool hand pushed back the hair from my face as he pressed gently over my forehead.

“She’s drained,” Julian said.

“That’s unlikely,” Damen argued. “That’s hardly the extent of what she can do.”

“I don’t know,” Julian said, moving me in his arms until my face was buried in the crook of his neck. “I’m just telling you how it feels.”

“But you’ll help her?” another voice said, further away and barely discernible. Miles, maybe?

I wasn’t even sure I was following the conversation anymore. Nothing made sense. It was hard to focus with the shapes, sounds, and colors swirling together beneath my closing eyelids.

“As if there were any other option,” was Julian’s rolling reply. The hold around my shoulders tightened as he stood. The move surprised me, and I whimpered as the steady ground fell further away.

“It’ll be fine, darling,” he said, or at least I thought so. A roaring blackness was beginning to take root in the back of my mind. “You can rest now.”

And it was then that my memories went blank.