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Dallas, TX

My hands shake as they shut the door and I’m locked in with my nightmare.

Water flows not three feet away from me, like a waterfall, but in a never-ending churn that comes from nowhere and goes nowhere. There is nothing peaceful about this waterfall. This waterfall is death and despair.

“Shahidi Davis,” a deep voice says from behind the locked door. “She’s fifteen. An orphan. Her family died in a house fire a few years back, and she went into the system. Eighteen months ago, her foster mother found her screaming about something she called a water demon.”

I know it’s not a demon now, but in the moment I saw those hollow bones behind the water and it was the only word I could think of. No one believed me, of course. No one. I’m cut off from the supernatural world since my parents died, and I can’t get anyone to call me back.

I tried our family friends when I had a phone. No one answered. I called Sarah Day, a witch who worked with my mom and aunt from time to time, but the number was disconnected.

Like I’m disconnected.

“She was in quite the state when she was brought in. We believe she’s got early onset schizophrenia,” the doctor explains. “Tell me. What course of treatment would you begin?”

Drugs. Lots of drugs.

They keep me… Not calm. I’m never calm when that thing is close to me. The drugs simply keep me from being able to defend myself.

I sit on the bed, not able to really get up because the drugs make me dizzy. I can’t defend myself from anything in here. They make sure of it.

I wish my mother was here.

I feel a tear slip down my cheek because this is what every day looks like. I try to tell the doctors what’s happening, what I’m seeing, what I am now. Some nod sympathetically and up my dosage. Others sneer and tell me I’m lying because I’m lazy and don’t want to go to school.

I wish I was in school. I used to love school. I was told once my power manifested, I could join the school where all the werewolf and Fae and witch kids went.

I haven’t seen a supernatural creature in years. My family died and they sent me straight into the human foster care system. I remember waiting and hoping someone would come looking for me. We had friends in that world, friends at the Council.

No one ever did. I never got to that school.

Instead, they bring in a tutor a couple of hours a day for us and they treat us like we can’t read or understand mathematics.

I glance over and wonder what would really happen if I walked into that water. Would I be free? Would darkness take me and it could all be over? Or would I be somewhere worse. Some hellscape the spirit owns.

“Hello, Shy.”

Even through the fog of my brain I hear the man talking to me. From inside my room.

“Don’t panic,” he says and drops to one knee in front of me. “I’m not a spirit, though you shouldn’t fear those either. You’re so damn young and have had no one to guide you. These ghosts you see are not the enemy. You were born for a specific purpose, though I’m sure you don’t care about that right now. I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

“Who are you? How did you…” Sometimes it’s hard to find words. Especially right after they give me the medicine. “The doors are always locked.”

“I suppose it doesn’t matter since there’s almost no way you’ll remember.” He’s a handsome man with dark hair and his eyes… I never saw eyes that color before. Violet. And they nearly glow in the low light. Even on one knee he looms above me. “I’m what you would call a prophet. I witness the important events of our world. Needless to say, I’ve been busy lately.”

So I’m asleep and dreaming. At least he seems nice. This dream guy. “Why would you be here?”

“For the same reason I convinced your friend to have a sleepover the night your parents were murdered.”

The words send a shock through me. “What?”

He stands and then moves to sit next to me. “Shy, I see the possibilities of how the world will go. They are laid out like infinite roads. Technically I’m simply here to observe, but what I’ve learned is that sometimes I can choose the path. Or at least who I can put on the path. You are important. More important than you can imagine. More important than anyone can know.”

I shake my head. “I should have been home.”

“If you had been home, you would no longer be on this plane of existence. You would not be able to do what you were born to do. Myrddin doesn’t know it, but you are the one he was trying to take out. He only wants the psychics he can control. For him it was a power play. He never realized he could have won the war with one fire.”

“I’m not a soldier.” His words don’t make sense except that this prophet person kept me from being with my family. From holding my mother’s hand as we went to the next life together.

“No, and that is why you are so important. I prophesize, but I cannot explain, so sometimes things get interpreted improperly,” he explains. “Especially when you’re dealing with a very literal wolf. And sometimes a prophecy can go more than one way. No matter what is written down, there is almost never only one way. Life doesn’t work like that. We all think fate is a through line, but there are almost always many roads that come to the same place. By saving you and hiding your value, I am giving us options. Options Myrddin will overlook in favor of the ones he understands.”

This is a damn weird dream. “I don’t understand you. I’m not important. I’m never leaving this place. They won’t ever let me leave.”

“Because you don’t know how to say and do what you need to in order to get out and take your place with the rebels,” he explains. “That’s what I’m going to do today. Or rather I’ve simply come to watch an important event. If anyone from Heaven or Hell asks, that’s what I am doing. I didn’t lure him here or anything. I’m sorry it took so long. He was trapped for a while, but he’s ready now.”

“Who is he?” I ask.

Suddenly there’s another man standing in front of me looking like he’s ready to go play a round of golf. He’s much shorter than the prophet guy and older. He’s like my grandpa’s age. If my grandpa was alive.

“Hello, Shy. My name is Harry Wharton, and according to Gray here, we can help each other out.” He has the most lyrical Irish accent, and something about him is infinitely warm. “I have a granddaughter who’s only a bit younger than you. Her name is Evangeline.”

“Uh, I thought we talked about not using my name,” the prophet says.

Harry waves him off. “We both know neither of us will remember this encounter. The way you explained it, bonding to her soul will make this brief time foggy and dreamlike, if anything at all. I won’t even remember you were the one who guided me here, so I can’t tell Heaven and Hell on you.”

“It’s Hell I’m worried about. Heaven would stop me if they wanted to. Lucifer might get upset if he thought I was playing favorites,” Gray says.

“Lucifer Morningstar?” I ask. My mother was careful around demons. I had heard many a lecture on staying away from them. “He watches you?”

“As you can see some of her delusions are biblical in nature,” the doctor outside says.

“Does she always talk to people who aren’t there?” another asks.

“Oh, yes. Though she usually begs them to leave her alone. This might be a further decline,” the doctor explains. “She also claims this very institution is filled with ghosts.”

I ignore their laughter because I’m starting to think this isn’t a dream.

Also, this place is unbelievably haunted, and I hope one of those ghosts binds to the doc and gives him hell.

“Lucifer watches me carefully,” Gray says with a sigh. “Which is precisely why I will never mention this day to anyone. I will keep my distance so they never suspect. The next time I see you will hopefully be the day you join the rebellion and meet… Well, I’ll leave that to fate.”

“Leave it to me,” Harry offers. “Shy, I died fighting Myrddin Emrys. My daughter is Queen Zoey of Vampire and the High Priestess of Faery. My grandchildren are on the run. I need to help them, and you need to get out of this place. It’s killing you.”

“They won’t ever let me out.” I look to the door, but the doctor and his students have moved on. They’ll be back, of course, but not for hours.

Harry kneels down, and we’re eye level. He has kind eyes. “I promise, I’ll teach you what to do and say and how to act so we can get out of here. It will take a while, but I promise I’ll get you out. Once we’re out, we’ll make our way to Iceland, where the rebels are. There are vampires and wolves and witches and Fae who are resisting Myrddin’s new world order. They’re growing stronger by the day.”

“I didn’t tell you that either.” Gray seems concerned with plausible deniability.

“Of course you didn’t.” Harry’s eyes never leave mine. “Shy, I will do everything I can to help you. I know I’m not a psychic, but I actually collaborated with your dad from time to time. He was the best telekinetic I ever worked with.”

“You knew my dad?” Tears start to roll. It’s been so long since I even talked to someone who understands the world I grew up in. I started to wonder if maybe I’m wrong and they’re right. Maybe I made up all of this in my head to disassociate myself from trauma. But Harry knows who my dad was. Knows what his powers were.

If this is a dream, maybe I don’t want to wake up. It’s the first time I believe someone wants to help me.

“I did, and I respected the hell out of him,” Harry says. “We’ll take down Myrddin for him, too, me darlin’.”

The idea of taking down the wizard… Maybe there is something I want more than peace. But it won’t work. “Even if you can teach me how to get out of here, we can’t get to Iceland. I would go back into the foster care system. I don’t have money or ID or anything like that.”

His smile widens, and there’s an impish quality to the expression. “Oh, don’t worry about dat none, girl. I’ll teach you one more thing. I’ll teach you how to steal. We’ll be right and fine. I’ll teach you how to talk to those ghosties, too. You and me will be all right, Shy. I promise. I’ll take care of you.”

I sniffle and look back at the prophet. There is only one way to go. “What do I have to do?”

Gray’s eyes soften. “All you have to do is welcome him in. Your soul is unique in all the world. Your soul has a space Harry can reside in. But he needs an invitation, and you’ll both be a little out of it afterward. Hold on to who he is and why he’s here. You do the same, Harry.”

I’m desperate. This might be a trap. I’m not foolish. I know there are creatures willing to prey upon the weak, and I am so weak now.

If there’s no hope, then I don’t care what happens. I can take this chance or stay here all of my days. Waste away until I don’t even remember who I used to be, where I came from. “You are welcome, Harry Wharton.”

There’s the slightest feel of tension in my chest and then the world goes hazy and I’m not sure what’s happening. Darkness fills my eyes and I fall back. The last sight I see is the water ghost moving in, looming above me like she’s trying to find a way in, too.

When I wake, I’m lying on my bed with the vaguest recollection of a visitation. But I can’t quite remember from who.

“Shy? Are you there? It’s Harry.”

I force myself to sit up and put a hand on my chest. It’s warm but not in an unpleasant way. I feel…stronger. Like some place that was empty is now filled.

Harry. Harry Wharton. He’s going to help me. I can hear Harry in my head. His lyrical accent is warm and friendly, and suddenly I’m not so alone. “You made it.”

I can feel the man smile. “I did, darlin’. And now we’re going to get you out of here. I’ll do everything I can.”

I feel far more centered than before, like whatever we did dispelled the effects of the drugs. I can think again. And be sarcastic. “I wish you could get rid of the Drowning Woman.”

“I don’t think she’s here,” Harry says. “I saw something odd before, but it’s gone now.”

I turn and he’s right. For the first time in over a year, she’s not here.

I breathe a sigh of relief and start to listen to my new mentor.