Chapter Eighteen

RUE

A s we speed off into the night, I stare blankly out of the car window, replaying the events of the night over and over in my head. I woke up when the temperature in my room dropped below zero, the air so cold it nearly froze in my lungs.

And found a ghost hovering over my bed.

While the wards managed to block her from communicating with me, they couldn't banish her from the house completely. I only had a second of consciousness before she dropped straight toward me. The instant she made contact with my skin, it burned like ice.

Funnily enough, the burning is a good sign.

It's when things start to go numb that you're in trouble.

It wasn't the first time some asshole thought it could take control of me. My body went rigid as it fought against the possession, but it was hard to battle something that I couldn't touch. As I began the laborious eviction process, a woman's voice filled my mind.

Please, don't. The shout was so loud that it reverberated in my head like a gong, and I grimaced when my skull threatened to crack open. I gritted my teeth and covered my ears, surprised my brains weren't oozing out.

After a second of quiet, the voice softened. I don't have much energy after fighting past your wards to get to you, and Gunner doesn't have much time.

I instantly froze at the mention of Gunner, afraid to move and accidentally banish her. As much as I wanted to force her to leave and scrub my brain clean, I couldn't take the risk. "Explain."

A human body isn't built for two souls. The longer we remained connected, the more our realities would merge. Our memories would become foggy, and it would be hard to tell what was reality and what was fantasy. Eventually, one of us would crack and just cease to exist.

That doesn't include the havoc two souls could wreak on the body. The brain would start misfiring, struggling to remember basic functions, then organ failure would occur within a few days unless one person conceded control.

Thankfully, the woman pulled away. She hovered over me once more, her anxious eyes searching mine, and I was shocked to see that it wasn't a woman at all, but a preteen girl full of spunk and grit. Though she was wearing a mutinous expression, the golden light in her eyes was dull and tarnished, meaning she had been a ghost for some time. It was a miracle that she remained earthbound so long without someone feeding off her.

She was a fighter.

I had no doubt that if I didn't listen to her, she would do whatever it took to get what she wanted.

Instead of answering me with words, she lifted her hand and pressed two fingers to the center of my forehead. My vision darkened to black. I squinted at the abrupt change, blinking to clear my vision, when I saw shapes moving in the darkness.

No, not shapes.

Gunner!

He was surrounded by men beating the crap out of him…then he wasn't. He was on the ground, his body so still that my breath hitched in my chest. Golden light enveloped his form, and a scream lodged in my throat when I literally saw his soul emerge from his body.

They killed him.

Something inside me shattered, and the vision wavered.

Vision!

That meant he wasn't dead yet.

I'd never had the opportunity to change the horrible futures I see. I thought it was impossible. After witnessing Gunner's death, I refused to accept that.

By using half truths, I managed to convince Hicks to help me.

And it worked.

I stare unblinkingly at Gunner in the front seat of the car, barely resisting the urge to touch him and confirm he's still alive.

Then my mind jumps to the people who were hurting him.

"Did I kill those men when I ran them over?" I'm not sure how I feel about that. I know I should feel bad, but I only feel justified.

Okay, and maybe a little bit vindictive.

"Nah, injured maybe, slightly maimed, but you didn't kill anyone," Hicks replies, surveying me in the rearview mirror with measured green eyes that miss nothing. "If it weren't for you, they wouldn't have stopped until he was dead."

"I know," I answer distractedly, wilting back against the seat. But instead of being relieved that I'm not a murderer, I'm disappointed.

The fuckers deserved to die.

A tiny smile curls his lips, as if he could read my bloodthirsty thoughts and approves. I purse my lips, looking away from his penetrating gaze, not sure of what type of person I'm becoming. Thanks to my parents, I'm pretty ambivalent to violence.

My eyes are drawn to Gunner, but the man hasn't moved since entering the vehicle, and I'm not sure if he's conserving his energy or unconscious.

Tears burn the backs of my eyes. We made it in time. We were able to change the future.

A ghostly image takes shape in the car next to me, and I do my best not to lurch away in panic. I relax slightly when I recognize the young girl from my bedroom. She's dimmer than before, like her interaction with me exhausted her.

Tears shimmer in her eyes as she studies her brother, then she looks at me and mouths, Thank you.

I can almost hear her in my head, like a faint echo. I give her a hesitant nod, and she vanishes from the car. I reach out, my hand passing through the spot where she was sitting, but I don't feel any residual energy.

She's really gone this time.

I'm a little disturbed that she was able to contact me so readily.

When my eyes land on Gunner, I swallow hard.

It's not me.

It's the guys.

My connection to them is like an open window. All the spirits have to do is find the guys, and they can find me.

Not good.

I can at least defend myself. The guys don't have anything to protect them. I fiddle with my rings, then I stop and realize that I have two choices—leave and never see them again, or find a way to protect them from the danger.

While I would love nothing more than to bury my head in the sand and pretend nothing is wrong, my life doesn't work like that. Spirits, especially vengeful spirits, can be deadly. If the guys plan to stick around, I either need to tell them the truth and risk losing them, or find a way to ward them without their knowledge. The safer bet would be to just leave. Unfortunately, I very much fear it might already be too late. If spirits are already aware of them, leaving would only make them vulnerable.

I mentally curse the fact that I ever thought I could be normal, even for a second, and I struggle to come up with a temporary solution that will keep them safe if anything were ever to happen to me. I swirl the ring on my finger slowly, then look down at my hands.

The rings.

Since I was already picking up something for Jaceson, it would be easy enough to grab something for the others. The solution is temporary at best, but it's all I have until I learn more about my heritage.

I just pray it's enough.

I slowly release a hiccupping breath that's a little too much like a sob, and I watch out the window as we head home, the steady thrum of the tires almost soothing. By the time we arrive at the house, I'm both mentally and physically exhausted.

Our headlights flash across the front of the house, and we're barely parked before the front door is thrown wide. Three familiar men spill from the mansion, and they quickly close the distance between us. Just as Hicks cuts the engine, the passenger door is wrenched open. Grim silence reins for a few seconds as they take in the scene, then the twins swear loudly.

Ellis ignores them, his harsh voice breaking the silence. "What the fuck happened?"

Gunner stirs, a guttural groan rumbling from his chest when he tries—and fails—to straighten. Ellis reaches into the vehicle and presses his hand against his shoulder to keep him still. "Don't try to move on your own. Allow the twins to help you into the house."

He grunts in acknowledgment and collapses back into the car. "Good thing, since I don't think I could make it on my own."

His voice is just a rasp, the words tight with pain, but I lean my head back against the seat in relief that he's alive and conscious.

Ellis steps back, and the twins reach into the vehicle without prompting.

"You sound like shit, man," Jameson teases with a tight smile, and Gunner grunts in response.

With much swearing and groaning, the guys peel his ass off the seat and haul him toward the house without a backwards glance. My shoulders slump as I watch them go, exhaustion weighing on me like I'm encased in cement.

Talking with spirits is always draining. The more I interact with them, the more energy they draw from me. It's a dangerous back-and-forth. If I'm not strong enough to hold them off, they could drain me and leave me vulnerable. Any spirit could try to take possession, and I would either be driven insane or die in the battle.

So far, I've been lucky.

The wards are helping me build up my strength, but I need more training. Nan told me that it's only by sheer will, brute strength, and pure luck that I've survived this long.

I'm not willing to take the risk any longer, not only with my future, but theirs as well.

I've been studying the journals and diaries from my family, but it doesn't seem to be enough. I need to learn the information faster, starting tonight. I refuse to let the guys get hurt because of me.

As I push my door open, my shoulders slump at the hopelessness of my situation. Only one bright spot keeps me from falling into despair—today, I managed to save Gunner's life with my gift.

That's two lives I saved in a matter of days.

If there's a chance that I can change the horrible future I see in my nightmares, then I'll do everything in my power to master my abilities, not only to save my own sanity, but I desperately want the chance to save other lives as well.

I know what it's like to be hopeless and have no future.

If I can save someone from the same fate, then I'm going to do it.

"Where's Rue?" Gunner's gruff question is more of a pant as the trio stumbles up the steps.

I glance at him over my shoulder, my eyes widening when Gunner struggles with the others, refusing to enter the house without me. Much swearing ensues as the guys do their best not to hurt him further, but the big man refuses to be manhandled.

Like an awkward dork, I wave from the back of the car, trying not to let my smile wobble. "I'm just going to my house. I'm a little tired, and the guys need to look after you. I'll only get in the way."

"No," Gunner says with a mutinous expression, immediately rejecting the idea. He looks seconds away from storming down the stairs to get to me, even if he will land on his face. "Stay."

My heart breaks at the turmoil I see in his eyes, and I find myself weakening. I take a hesitant step toward them when Gunner's eyes narrow dangerously. "Are you hurt? Did they touch you?" He turns and swings clumsily at Hicks, the blow landing with a solid thud that nearly knocks the other man down. "Why the fuck would you bring her to the fight?"

Gunner sways alarmingly, his chest billowing as he struggles for breath, but he doesn't back down.

"I didn't let her fight," Hicks snarls, rubbing his already abused jaw. "She was safe in the car the whole time. You called her for help. You?—"

"I did no such thing," Gunner protests, cradling his ribs and leaning against Jaceson for support when he can no longer hold up his own weight.

"But she said you were in trouble. She…" Hicks trails off, and the undivided attention of all five men lands squarely on me.

I shuffle awkwardly at the speculation in their eyes, then wince when my sore feet land on a rock, and I suddenly wish I had the ability to vanish like a spirit.

"Looks like you've got some explaining to do, Tally-Rue," Jameson says with a spark of humor in his voice, but his pale blue eyes are dead serious.

I take a step back, suddenly feeling too exposed.

"Rue, where are your shoes?" Ellis strides down the steps, his pace unhurried. His glasses magnify his soft brown eyes, and the concern in them makes me feel vulnerable.

I swallow around the lump in my throat, my eyes dropping to my clasped hands, and I shrug. "We were in a rush. I didn't have time to grab everything."

Ellis slips a finger under my chin and gently lifts my face. His expression is so fierce that my eyes widen, and I'm held immobile by his intensity. I'm used to seeing anger and disgust. I don't know how to react to anything else.

"You came to our rescue without care or concern for your safety." His thumb sweeps out, brushing along my jaw, and I shudder at the light sensation, my eyes closing as pleasure sweeps through me. "The least we can do is make sure you're okay."

When I hesitate a moment longer, he steps closer and softly murmurs, "Please."

I find myself nodding before I even consciously make a decision, my stomach erupting like a flock of birds taking flight, and then the ground disappears out from under my feet when Ellis sweeps me into his arms. My breath catches, but unfortunately, it's not enough to stifle my embarrassing squeak. I loop my arms around his shoulders, clutching him close as I look at the long distance to the ground.

As he marches toward the house, I duck my head against his neck, squeezing my eyes tightly shut. His stride hitches, his arms tighten, and the smell of books and burning candles fills my senses. Thinking he's about to drop my ass, I practically cling to him like a barnacle and murmur, "I can walk."

A shiver goes through him, his arms tightening even more, and I swear I almost hear a growl rumble from his chest. "No."

That's it.

Argument over.

I gradually relax into his hold when he shows no signs of struggling under my weight. Not ready to face the others, I keep my head lowered, my eyes heavy with sleep. I know they want answers, but I'm not ready to give them yet.

I just want one more night to build pleasant memories before my world comes crashing down around me again. Is that too much to ask?

The cool night air disappears as I'm swept into the house. I can hear the guys talking to each other, but I don't pay any attention to them, my sole focus on the man holding me in his arms. Though Ellis might be the shortest and slimmest of the guys, he has no trouble holding my weight. The muscles flexing under me are distracting, begging me to explore them, and I'm almost afraid to move and draw attention to the fact that I'm struggling not to feel him up like some perv.

I don't recall ever being held so gently, like I'm something precious, and it's a novel experience that I'm not sure I completely like.

Being near them puts me on edge.

They are always close, lingering in my space and touching me.

It has me jumping at shadows, unsure if I should flinch or lean closer.

With my brain a jumbled mess, I'm barely aware of my surroundings until Ellis gently lowers me onto his lap.

My spine snaps straight as I go rigid in his arms, but he doesn't loosen his hold. After a moment, he rubs his hand up and down my back soothingly, and I gradually melt against him, the tension slowly evaporating.

That doesn't mean I'm not on high alert. I'm conscious of his steady breathing and the slight thump of his heartbeat under my head, ready for the slightest shift in his mood. If it were anyone else, I would have already bolted like a rabbit.

I remain for one reason.

I need to know if the guys can be trusted before I become any more invested in them.