Page 171 of The Warlock's Trial

My heart broke for her. I wanted to stop the spell, but I also thought maybe her grief could still help her.

“You my emotion, and I’m in control of you,” Nadine added.

“You’re acting like this is a choice, but I’m one of the few things you don’t get to choose,” Grief Nadine said softly. “The harder you suppress me, the stronger I’ll become. Allow me to become a part of you, and we’ll do this together.”

Nadine turned her head into my chest, like she couldn’t bear to look at her grief any longer. “Lucas, you need to stop this. This was a bad idea.”

I looked back to her grief, begging desperately for one last piece of advice that would change Nadine’s mind. But her grief only replied with a sad look. I realized her grief couldn’t help if Nadine didn’t want her to.

I waved my hand, and the image of Nadine standing next to our bedside became a mass of energy once again. Wisps of black magic returned to Nadine’s body, and the spell ended.

I curled my arms tightly around Nadine. “I’m sorry it didn’t work.”

Nadine sniffled and drew away. “It will. We’ll figure out this spell together. When I’ve figured out how to defeat my grief, then you can do the spell again. Then I’ll vanquish her and make her go away.”

I wanted to tell her I didn’t think that was going to work, but when I looked into her desperate eyes, I knew my words would be anything but helpful. The only thing I could do was be here for her through it.

“We’ll figure it out,” I agreed. “I’m right here, Nad.”

She relaxed into me. “I’m glad you’re here, Lucas, but I wish that was enough to stop me from falling apart. I know you love me, and that all our friends are in my corner, but none of that helps to make this go away.”

I stroked her hair. I wish I could tell her it would get better someday, but I understood grief all too well. Her grief was right, and I hadn’t realized the truth of it until I heard it said out loud. This wasn’t something that disappeared. It was just something that you learned to live with because it would always be a part of you.

I would never get over Eric's death. A thousand years could come and go, and I'd be just as sad over his suicide as I was the day that it happened. It didn't sting as much anymore, because the shock was over and so much time had passed, but I still missed my brother every day. I'd grieve for him until time itself ran out, and because I'd loved him so much, I was willing to accept that.

Nadine wasn't. She'd do anything to escape. I knew how she felt, because there'd been some dark days after Eric died when I'd pleaded to Mother Miriam to take my love for my brother away, just so my pain had somewhere to go. That didn't happen, though. It festered inside of me and made me sick until I realized the only way to cope with it would be to allow myself to accept that this was the way things had to be.

Nadine had a long way to go before she got to that point, if she did at all.

One day, she would understand, and I would be right there alongside her to help her through it. I understood the point of this spell now. It was clear I had more than one job as a reaper. I could help the dead cross over into Alora, but as long as I was living, I could also help the living cross over into a new life after they’d lost somebody.

Problem was, I was still learning how to do that myself.

Chapter Twenty

NADINE

Lucas and I didn’t talk about that day after he performed the spell. There seemed to be no solution, and my grief was insistent she wasn’t going to walk away. What a bitch.

The best I could do was ignore her, and maybe she’d disappear on her own.

I knew the best way to take my mind off all of it was to dive into fiction. On Sunday, I asked Lucas to bring me a book from the library. He’d brought a whole stack, but I’d already read most of them before. I found a few I hadn’t read and binged them all day. I was already on my third book that evening, and it had to be my favorite so far—not because it was good, but because it was laughably silly.

The whole premise of the book was that this woman had mind-blowing sex with a ghost in her sleep, and she’d learned from a psychic that the ghost had since possessed a man but lost his memories. But it was okay, because the man he’d possessed was a bad guy who’d been shot and killed, and the ghost had possessed an empty vessel. To find the ghost—who was apparently the love of her life—she had to gather clues about him and then fuck the guys who fit the bill until she found the one who made her toes curl. Apparently once they made love, his memories would be restored, and they could live out their days happily fucking until they died. Or in his case, died again. The whole thing was ridiculous, and yet I couldn’t put it down. I tried to stifle a laugh as I read the passage.

The man from the bar brought her into the bedroom and tossed her onto the bed. Her skirt rode up around her thighs, tickling her sensual areas. She was already turned on. He realized with a thrill that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. His trembling member turned hard so fast it broke the zipper on his jeans, and he tossed the pants aside. She took one look at his rod and knew it was going to be the best pleasure stick she’d ever ridden. She was certain the man from the bar was the erotic ghost she’d encountered two months ago. His Johnson was everything she’d dreamed it to be.

He leaned over her and whispered seductively, “Do you want me to make you come, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she begged. Her nipples became hard immediately. “I want you to fuck me hard.”

He shoved four fingers inside of her, ravaging her with his vigorous touch?—

I burst into a fit of laughter. This had to be the silliest thing I’d ever read. If Lucas ever came at me with four fingers and a vigorous touch, he’d be waking up with a black eye.

Lucas sat beside me on the bed, reading one of the books I’d recommended to him. “What’s so funny?”

“Paranormal erotica,” I giggled. “It’s hilarious. The author refers to his junk as a trembling member and pleasure stick.”

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