by Lila Kane
That doesn’t explain the dream I had last night, though.
“Are you all right?” Kane asks as we get in the car.
I swallow and try a smile. “I’m okay.”
“We’ll be more careful. Make sure you can defend yourself.”
“Good,” I whisper, staring out the window. “I need to be able to defend myself.”
Kane wasn’t lying. We’re more than careful over the next week, barely leaving the hotel. We practice with James, doing spells, discussing what it’ll take to erase the curse. It seems to be a simple spell, but it takes a lot of power. It takes more than one witch, and my mother hasn’t woken up yet.
Kane disappears several hours of the day without telling me where he’s going. Someone’s always with me while he’s gone, and when he returns, he’s usually in a bad mood. Mostly he saves it for behind closed doors, with the rest of his group‒who clearly knows more than I do.
Maybe he’s just trying to keep me out of the drama. Trying not to worry me.
I take the vervain each morning with my coffee and soon my head starts to feel clearer. I can’t remember any more than I did before, but I don’t feel as fuzzy. I feel like I can think.
I sit at the table near the bar, flipping through pages of journals from James’s ancestors. I skim another page, pausing at the phrase, “let my spirit wander.”
I re-read it, and then look over at James. “Hey.”
He glances up from the book he’s paging through. “Yeah?”
“What does this mean?” I point out the passage I’m referring to.
James lifts the journal and reads several lines before passing it back. “I figure it’s astral projection.”
“What?”
“You know, you’re physically in one spot, but you can send your spirit other places.”
Something stirs inside of me. Like I’ve done this before. “Like a spy?”
He grins. “Something like that. It’s a pretty big deal‒I’ve never heard of a witch doing it before. I bet you could do it, though.”
I give him a look. “Sure. I’ll work on that right now.”
He laughs. “I’m just saying, Keepers of the Flame are the most powerful kinds of witches. If anyone could do it, it’d be you.”
“Don’t tell Kane. Then he’ll have me spying on the other team,” I say.
He lifts his eyebrows. “Yeah, probably. It’s a long-shot. I‒”
He breaks off when Kane arrives, storming through the door without pause. His eyes are dark, angry, and full of purpose. “Meeting,” he snaps. “Now.”
I stand, but he shakes his head. “Not you.”
James glances at me. He lifts his shoulders in a small shrug. Stung, I grab the journal I was reading. “I’ll be on the balcony.”
Without glancing back, I walk into the bedroom I’ve been using and breeze through to the far wall where there’s a glass door leading to a small balcony. It’s in the shade this morning, with two cushioned chairs beside a small table. A soft breeze moves the trees some, but it’s peaceful.
I set the journal aside and curl up on one of the chairs, frowning. Of course Kane doesn’t want me in the meeting. That would actually mean letting me in on the plan. Letting me know what’s going on. This whole thing hinges on me being able to do the spell, but I’m the one who has the least information.
How does that work?
James is the only one who talks to me. More than Kane, even, except for when we have a task to do.
I blow out a long, steadying breath. I’m just on edge, that’s all. Ever since the confrontation in my house with the shifter, Ryan, and Kane’s sister, Myra, I haven’t been able to settle down. And now that my thoughts are clearer, I’m seeing all sorts of holes in what Kane’s been telling me.
I know it’s probably nothing. Kane’s been helping me. It’s not like he’s keeping me here against my will. He’s the good guy. But I have questions he won’t answer.
What are they talking about inside? Kane looked so worried when he walked in. Maybe something about the other team. If I could use astral projection like James was talking about, I could pop in there and see what’s going on.
Scanning the journal pages, I try to get a clue how astral projection is done. Concentration, focus, yeah, yeah…It’s got to be more complicated than that, right?
Sitting back, I close my eyes and try breathing evenly. In and out. Slow and deep. I try to focus on the group inside, but other thoughts keep invading my mind. Visions of Logan and Ryan and Myra. Even Cheyenne and her studious glasses, looking so confused by my behavior at the hospital I almost believe she had no idea what’s going on.
When the chair shifts under me, I gasp. And suddenly, I’m somewhere else. A library. I’m in an empty room, shelves surrounding me.
Oh my God. Astral projection. I did it. But I’m not inside with Kane and the rest of my group, I’m somewhere else. I lift my hands, staring at them. Or staring right through them, rather.
Holy shit. I’m a ghost.
I turn, scanning the room. It is a library. And there are voices in the other room. I creep to the entryway, a wave of déjà vu washing over me. I’ve been here before. In this building. In this room.
But why?
When I get to the corner, I freeze. My breath catches. They’re here. All of them. The werewolf, Cheyenne, Ryan and Myra, and even Logan. It’s some kind of meeting like Kane is having.
When Myra paces my way, I instinctively step back. But she continues walking like I’m not even there. She can’t see me.
Curious, I step forward again, lingering in the doorway. Logan’s facing the window, shoulders hunched and tense. Ryan has his arms folded, watching Myra pace, and Cheyenne has the tip of her glasses between her pursed lips as she perches on the edge of the desk. She must work here.
“I can’t do this,” Logan murmurs.
I lean in closer, trying to make out his words.
“She’s there, with him, every day, and I don’t know if she’s scared, or‒or‒”
“She’s not scared,” Myra says. “She doesn’t remember what happened.”
Cheyenne nods. “She’s right.”
I frown. What happened? Yeah, so there are a few things I can’t see so clearly, but Kane filled me in on the rest. I know who I am. I know why I’m here. I know that these people in this room are against us.
Logan turns, fire in his eyes. “She is scared. She was scared when he influenced her, and she knew‒she knew he was going to do it. And I wasn’t there to stop him, or to help her.”
Myra shakes her head. “Logan. You didn’t‒”
“No. No. Don’t try to make me feel better.”
She steps in front of him. “Please don’t do this.”
He runs his hands through his hair. “We need to go for her.”
“Logan.” Myra wraps her arms around him.
He stands stock still, looking over her shoulder. For a moment, I swear he stares right at me. My breath catches.
“Willow?” he says.
Cheyenne frowns, glancing the direction he’s looking. But her gaze slides right over me and then back.
Logan shakes his head, dropping his gaze and wrapping his arms around Myra. “We have to get her.”
My heart hammers in my chest. Why does he keep saying that? Looking so tortured? And it doesn’t sound like he wants to come for me because he’s got evil plans in mind like Kane keeps telling me.
It’s like…
“Willow.”
My gaze snaps up. The group starts to fade.
“Willow,” someone says again.
I yank in a sharp breath and blink. In an instant, I’m back at the hotel, slumped in the chair out on the balcony. James is leaning over me, his hand on my shoulder.
“Are you okay?”
My heart is still racing. “I think so,” I mumble.
“What happened?”
I hesitate. If I tell him about what I just did, he could tell Kane. I don’t
want Kane to know. But something in me believes I can trust James. He’s a witch, like me. We should be on the same side.
“That astral projection thing?” I say, looking up at him.
“Yeah?”
“I just did it.”
James’s mouth drops open. “No way.”
“Yes way.”
He crouches next to me, glancing at the journal. “How did you do it?”
I ignore the question and say, “You can’t tell Kane.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want him to be angry. And…” I sigh and rub my hands over my face. “It makes me nervous to say anything to anyone else just yet.”
“Then why did you tell me?”
He searches my eyes, genuinely curious.
I shrug, trying for a smile even though I’m still sort of reeling inside from the scene I just witnessed back in the library. “I thought I could trust you.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, and then finally nods. “You can. You can trust me.”
I nod.
“I won’t tell Kane.”
“Thank you,” I murmur as he stands.
I need to keep this to myself. I need to know that I’m safe projecting myself somewhere else because I’m going to need to do it again. I need to find out the truth.
Chapter 17
I’ve been using vervain for four days. Not only am I thinking more clearly, I’m starting to remember. First, it’s Cheyenne. Moments at her home or mine, drinking wine, talking, enjoying ourselves.
Then I start to remember Logan. Conversations. Kisses in the dark. And more.
My cheeks heat and Kane looks over from the driver’s seat. “You okay?”
I nod, turning to stare out the window. “Just worried about my mom.”
“We’re keeping her safe.”
It’s more than that, but it’s a good excuse. He doesn’t seem to realize I’m starting to believe there’s no danger at all. He says they’re keeping her safe, but I don’t think the other team is really even interested in my mom. In fact, I haven’t figured out what they’re interested in besides me.
And not in a bad way. What I saw in the library was…
“Willow?”
I snap my attention to Kane. “Yes?”
“You seem distracted.”
I think fast, trying to engage him in the details of our plan. “What if she doesn’t wake up?”
“You have to try. Talk to her. James will help you with the spell. Try to heal her and get her to wake up.”
Heal her. My mind flashes with fire. My hands are linked with Myra’s and I’m sending flames from my body to hers. It travels up her arms and races down her body. But instead of being scared, she’s smiling. She’s celebrating.
I healed her somehow. She was sick or hurt‒I’m not sure. But I helped her.
“I can try to heal her, but I don’t…” My voice threatens to break. Memories keep hitting me now. More with Logan. Some with my mom. “I’m not sure how. I’ll try to talk to her.”
Kane glances over. “You still seem worried.”
He pulls into the parking lot but doesn’t get out of the car. The rest of the group parks next to us. I reach for the handle, but Kane stops me.
“Look at me, Willow,” he says.
No. He’s going to try to influence me. “I’m fine,” I say.
“Look at me.”
I stay calm, looking over with a soft smile. “Yes?”
His gaze captures mine. “Everything is going to be okay.”
I take a breath, trying to even my expression. Trying to do exactly what I did every other time he influenced me. Be agreeable.
“Everything is going to be okay,” I repeat.
He smiles. “That’s right. You’re going to talk to your mom, you’re going to figure out how to get her out of that coma, and you’re going to let me know the instant that you do.”
“I’ll let you know right away.”
“Good. So, you feel better now, right?”
“I feel better.”
Kane exits the car, coming around my side to get the door for me. I pretend like it’s all normal, everything he said, everything we’re doing. I pretend like my mind isn’t full of doubt.
James joins us, walking with me to the door. Above, I spot a hawk circling the building.
“I’ll come inside this time,” Kane says, walking up on my other side.
“Should I take out the amethyst?”
He shakes his head, another smile gracing his lips. I must be doing a good job playing along.
“No, I won’t get too close. I just want to be there in case something goes wrong.”
I nod. “Or in case something goes right. In case my mom wakes up.”
“Exactly.”
We enter the familiar doors and pass the nurses station. No change as usual.
“I’ll be in the waiting room,” Kane says, his jaw tight.
“Are you okay? The amethyst?”
“It’s strong,” he says before turning into the waiting room.
James nods his head toward the hallway. “Come on. Let’s do this.”
Inside Faye’s room, the hum of the amethyst is powerful, like Kane said. It pulses through the room in long, rolling waves.
“Can you feel that?” I ask James.
He nods. “Some. Strong spell you did.”
“You helped me, didn’t you?”
This time he looks away, interest drawn to the machines by my mother’s bedside. “Yeah, uh…” He coughs and shrugs. “Just the idea. You did the spell.”
He’s lying to me. It’s painfully obvious. At least he looks guilty about it.
“Then help me with something here. I need to try to get my mom to wake up.”
James sits in one of the empty chairs. “We can try a simple healing spell first and go from there.”
I stand on the other side of my mother’s bed and take her hand. She looks too pale, too still. But I remember…I remember seeing her up and about. At home or somewhere close by. We ate breakfast together. She was strong. She is strong.
“Okay, I’m ready.”
James takes my hand and sets his other on my mom’s. He says a few words, a spell that feels familiar. Simple. Like something basic I learned at some point along the way.
After the first time, I join in and say the words with him.
There’s a hum where my skin makes contact with James and my mother, similar to the feel of the amethyst. I watch her face, watch for any signs of movement, but there’s nothing.
We repeat the spell and wait.
“I don’t think it’s working.” I squeeze my mother’s hand. “Mom? Faye?”
James shakes his head. “It was just a simple spell. I’ve seen it work before but only on small things. Cuts, burns, a cold once.”
“Really?”
He releases my hand and sighs. “Yes. But this is on a whole other scale.”
And I’m the Keeper of the Flame, which means I should be able to do something. Clearly I have done something in the past, and it worked. With Myra.
“What about the astral projection thing?” I ask, not ready to mention the fire yet.
“What?”
“You know, get into her subconscious. If I can project myself other places‒”
“Physical places,” he cuts in.
I nod. “Sure. But maybe I could transport myself to…intangible places, too. Into her mind‒her dreams.”
“And then what?”
I start pacing. “I don’t know. Give her a nudge or something.”
He thinks about this for a few minutes and finally shrugs. “I don’t see how it could hurt. But I’m not sure it’s the kind of nudge she needs.”
“I want to try.”
It’s better than the fire. Safer. I don’t know the whole story behind that and it scares me. Fire seems like a weapon, something used to hurt. And I don’t want to hurt my mother.
James stands and gestures for me to t
ake his seat. “Might as well try. I can give you some space, wait outside.”
“You’ll stay close, right? In case anything happens.”
He gives me a curious look, but only nods. “I’ll be right outside the door.”
I settle into the hard seat and blow out a breath. I did this before, I can do it again. But projecting myself into someone’s mind is a whole different thing‒not to mention I hadn’t exactly done it right last time. All I’d been trying to do was eavesdrop on Kane’s meeting. Instead, I’d gone all the way to the library.
Closing my eyes, I try to even my breathing. I have to try. Then at least I can honestly tell Kane I did what I could, even if I have to be less than honest about the astral projection.
My body relaxes easily, just like last time. Like I’ve done this before more than once. I focus on my mom and her dreams. I try to focus on being there with her, wherever she is.
This time it’s not like being transported somewhere else. It’s like falling asleep. My body relaxes further, slumping in the chair. A haze creeps over my vision, blooming at the corners and making the whole scene foggy.
I’m in the forest.
“Mom?” I call.
I turn in a circle, taking in the tall trees, the leaves on the ground, the mist creeping past my feet. It’s cold. I can see my breath, but the cold doesn’t bother me. The quiet does.
“Faye?”
There’s rustling in a bush behind me and I whip around. When my mom steps out, I slap my hand over my chest. “You scared me.”
“What are you doing here?” she asks quietly.
I step closer, not sure whether to reach out to hug her or keep my hands at my sides. It’s not like we’ve had any sort of relationship in the past. But right now, I’m more than relieved to see her. I’m happy.
“You’re in a coma. I‒I wanted to see you. We’re trying to get you to wake up.”
She circles a tree. She’s barefoot, and like me, she doesn’t look cold. In fact, she looks peaceful.
“I’m supposed to be here, Willow.”
A soft breeze blows and I brush hair from my face. “Why? Can’t you come back? The fire‒”
“No.” Her fingers grip my wrist. “You can’t do that.”
“I don’t‒I don’t understand. I need you. Something isn’t right.”
