Chapter 18

‘Ashe. Ashe, can you hear me?' I feel a light tap on my cheek and blink open my eyes. Shaw is leaning over me with a worried frown. When he sees me open my eyes, he sighs in relief. ‘You okay? You passed out.'

His eyes dart left. Beside him, soldiers linger.

‘Apologies,' I groan. ‘The wine went straight to my head.'

Shaw helps me to sit. We're no longer in the grand hall but in what looks like a library.

‘Take it slow.' Shaw steadies me as I sit. ‘There's no rush.'

I wince as the high-pitched ringing continues. Behind the shoulder of a soldier, a teenage girl lingers. Her throat slit wide and her nightgown torn. She stares absentmindedly into the distance before flickering out of sight.

‘Shit,' I whisper, lowering my head, allowing Shaw to slowly rub circles over my back. I rest my hands over my ears as she whispers in my ear. I know if I look up, she'll be there, close enough to see the rip in her flesh and to feel her breath, if she had any.

‘Could you give us some privacy?' Shaw snaps at the guards.

They refuse to move an inch.

‘Fine. Then we will retire to our room.' He scoops me up in his arms. I don't dare open my eyes. Fuck knows what I'll see.

He walks for several moments before the air feels warmer, and he settles me down on a soft armchair by a fire. He closes the door and returns to me.

‘It's just us,' he assures me, pulling my hands away from my ears. ‘What's happening?'

‘I'm seeing the dead,' I reply. ‘I can hear them. See them. They're everywhere.'

‘You can actually see them? Not just in the mirrors?'

‘Yes.'

‘Can you see any in here?'

‘I don't dare look,' I admit. ‘They're so angry, Shaw. I can feel their anger. Their pain. And they're so loud.'

‘Can you hear anything now?'

I shake my head.

‘Open your eyes.' He tucks my hair behind my ear. ‘Be brave.'

‘I can't. Please.'

‘You're the toughest little earth witch I've ever met. Open your eyes.'

His hand rests on mine. I squeeze it tight.

He rests his forehead on mine.

‘Look at me, Pixie.'

I slowly open my eyes and see him before me. His eyes look deep into mine, and I find them a great comfort. By the door, Dorian and Archie look on, tense and on alert.

‘Do you see anything?' he asks.

With a shuddering breath, I look around.

‘Yes…' I stare at the far corner of the bedroom where an elderly man faces the wall and repeatedly slams his face into the stone. With each thud, I can hear the bones of his nose and skull break. I hear the blood and flesh squelching. His long grey hair is a ratted mess, and his white shirt is splattered with blood.

‘Who do you see?'

‘A man.'

‘Just one man?'

‘Yes.'

The spirit stops and slowly faces me.

‘He's looking at me,' I whisper, utterly frozen in terror. His lifeless eyes bore into mine. ‘Shaw? What do I-'

I scream when the spirit runs straight at me.

I charge past Shaw and throw myself under the bed, scrambling underneath in utter desperation, my nails tearing as I pull myself into the tight space.

I don't care it's thick with dust. I don't care it stinks of mould.

My hands cover my ears, and my eyes scrunch closed before I hum.

Hands grab at my ankles, and I'm yanked from underneath. Before I can scream, hands cover my mouth, and I'm pinned to the floor, kicking and unable to breathe. They have my mouth and nose smothered.

Dorian straddles me as Shaw and Archie restrain and silence me.

Behind them, the dead man reaches out for me, and I know that if he touches me, I'll feel it all. I'll feel his emotions when he died. I'll feel the pain of what killed him. I'll relive it over and over, trapped in a loop of death and dying in agony.

These spirits that linger died in horror. They met their end with such violence and suffering they're forever stuck here, looping their end over and over like a stain that will never be washed clean.

They don't know who they are or that they're dead. I'm not even convinced they're the souls of anything that lived. Just a scar of how they died. Those final moments are imprinted in the world.

Dorian snatches my left hand.

‘Her charms are gone,' he realises. ‘The talismans I made her… they're gone!'

‘Did she drop them?' Archie asks. ‘Should I go down and try to find them?'

‘There's no time. Her screams will draw too much attention.' Dorian bites my palm and does the same to his before pressing some of the beaded charm bracelets he usually wears on his wrist between us. He mutters some words under his breath before hastily putting them on my wrist and wrapping them in a very particular way between my fingers.

He then leans down, his nose against mine and pulls Ronan's hand away. I gasp in a breath just as he softly blows between my lips.

I take it in, this endless breath he gives, and it fills my lungs to their fullness. My back arches as my body keeps trying to pull in his air. He resumes speaking, his deep and dark voice like a soothing balm against that agonising noise in my ears. It replaces it. His words now occupy my head. His words are inside me.

The spirit vanishes. That painful ringing in my head stops.

Everything is calm.

‘Good girl,' Dorian says, nodding slowly as I look up at him, still unable to breathe. ‘That's it. You've got it. Breathe. Is the spirit gone?' he asks breathlessly.

I nod, seeing no one but the four of us in the room.

‘W-what did you do?'

‘I gave you the protection of my talismans. They'll shield you,' Dorian says, panting as he sweeps my hair from my tear-streaked face. ‘Don't take them off. Whatever you do.' His thumbs wipe clear another tear as it falls.

‘That breath…' I'm just… I'm lost for words. ‘It felt so personal. So intimate.'

‘Yeah. That breath, Dorian,' Shaw says darkly, glaring at him angrily. ‘What the fuck?!'

‘It's what she needed.'

Shaw drags him across the room. I'm up to try and help in a second, but Archie holds me back.

‘You made a fucking link?' Shaw spits. ‘What the hell are you thinking?'

‘She needed help.'

‘She would have worked through it.'

‘Or she would have been touched by the spirit, and she would be writhing in agony as she suffered its death. Good luck explaining that to the king when he discovers she's a necromancer who has been possessed by a spirit.'

‘You had no right to make a link without my permission.'

‘She's getting too strong, Shaw. Too powerful too quickly. Seeing spirits makes her vulnerable to possession, and you know that. This way, I can help her control it. Help take away her pain and fear.'

Shaw throws a punch, catching Dorian's face. Dorian grabs Shaw's throat, and his eyes darken. Black webs spread across the whites of his eyes, and the room dims. Great shadows spread across the wall. Shadows from nothing I can see but big, monstrous shapes that make the air cold. It's so cold, I see my breath.

Shaw's on his knees.

‘Touch me again, dream walker, and we will end you.' The voice that comes out isn't Dorian's. It's darker and ethereal. It's terrifying. ‘She's ours now, and you can do nothing about it.'

‘You're a fool…' Shaw wheezes. ‘A bloody… fool!'

‘Dorian, stop!' He looks at me as I plead with him. ‘Please let him go. Please!' Slowly, the darkness recedes. Shaw's released, and Dorian steps back.

The room returns to normal, and Dorian turns and leaves, slamming the door behind him as he goes.

Archie and I watch Shaw get to his feet, knowing better than to ask if he needs help.

‘What was that? What just happened?' I face Archie, knowing better than to ask Shaw.

‘Every soul Dorian has killed with his magic becomes his,' Archie says. ‘He's filled with hundreds, which fuels his power but can take it to dark places. He can summon them and make them do his bidding. Like shadows of death.'

‘That breath. What was it?'

‘That breath just linked your soul to his.'

‘What? Why would he do that? What does that mean? He owns my soul?'

Archie offers a shrug. ‘It means he's connected to it. He had to so the talismans would work for you.' Archie lifts my arm and waves the heavily decorated hand between us. ‘They ward off the spirits attached to him so he doesn't get overwhelmed. He's not a very nice guy when they do.'

‘He needs them back.' I look at the door.

‘He'll make more when we return home,' Shaw grunts, still staring at the door. ‘He's strong enough to shield himself without them for a while. They just make it easier. I need to get Dorian. It's not safe for us to be alone here.'

Shaw's already leaving before I can say or do anything to stop him. The door slams shut, and Archie falls into a large armchair by the fire.

‘Well. That was fun,' he groans, watching the flames. ‘I'm curious. Do you see any other spirits regularly? The woman from the mirror, the one who reached out, do you see her a lot?'

‘Sometimes. Yes. Of all the spirits I've seen, she's the one I've seen most. What did Dorian mean when he said I could be possessed?'

‘Well, you're a necromancer, Pix. You see them and feel them. Sometimes, they can see you. Feel you. And if they get close enough, they can sneak in.'

‘Sneak in?' I repeat, utterly horrified at the idea.

‘You have a strong connection to death. You have to learn to control it, Pixie. Before it controls you.' He watches me slowly sit on the edge of the bed, the feeling of hesitation ebbing from his aura. ‘Are spirits the only thing in your life that sought you out? Are they the only reason you hide under the bed?'

I lift my gaze. He's reading my every reaction.

‘You asked us not to share you. You said men like to make little girls cry. I want to know what you meant by that.'

‘Why do you even care? I'm just your little blood whore. Your stolen witch. Your fucking pixie.'

‘Honestly, I have no idea why I care. I shouldn't, and I never have before. But for some reason, the idea of someone laying their hands on you and making you cry has me wanting to burn the entire fucking world to the ground in the vague hope that I get the bastards that hurt you.'

‘I think that is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.'

‘So I got your virginity and your first compliment. Not bad for a fleabag mutt, huh?' he teases.

‘No,' I smile. ‘Not bad at all.'

‘So. You gonna tell me?' he asks.

‘There's nothing to tell,' I reply.

He sinks further into the chair and lets out a long breath. ‘If Shaw won't marry you,' he says, turning his head to look at me. His sweet smile makes my heart flutter. ‘I will.'

‘You will?'

‘You're not returning to that mud coven,' he states firmly. ‘We're never letting you go.'

‘Not sure if that sounded more like a threat or a promise.'

‘Me neither, Pix. Me neither.'