Page 57 of Haunted By the Shadow of Death

“If you’re sure.” If this guy dropped in front of me, it would be pretty damning. How many times could someone die around me before the packs all put a hit out on me?

Still, I’d come here for his help. If he insisted this was the way, how could I decline whatever he asked? He knew the risks. Could see how terrified I was, and yet he still wanted me to do this.

I held out my hands. He didn’t hesitate and grabbed both.

An immediate connection flowed through our grip, and I yanked my hands back, jumping from the seat. I waited for a sign of his imminent death, cursing that I’d allowed him to convince me this was a good idea.

He sat calmly, watching me.

“I’m unharmed,” he said after a few moments had passed.

“What was the feeling? There was a surge between us.”

“We’re both guides of the pack. We are connected because of this. Our energy levels run stronger and beyond what is normal, so when we touch, there is a sharing of sorts. That is why I need to connect with you to get a sense of what is happening.” He motioned to the spot beside him again. “Please, it’s all right.”

He still hadn’t convulsed or turned gray. Maybe he did know what he was doing?

I sat beside him again and slowly reached out. I tried to act as calm as he seemed, but there was no way he couldn’t see the trembling in my fingers.

“Be at peace. You will not harm me.” He gently sandwiched my hands between his, and that same scary flow of energy commenced.

Calm. Stay calm. If I feared—

No, don’t even let your thoughts go that way. Don’t invite them into your brain where they could—

I was doing it again. Forget focusing on staying calm. I had to keep my brain empty.

I hadn’t realized I’d squinted my eyes closed until I found myself curious about what was happening. Fifo’s grip was still warm and strong.

I opened my eyes to slits, as if only seeing a tiny bit of him dying would lessen the terror. His eyes were completely closed, but his skin was still a healthy hue.

I opened my eyes fully, finding myself transfixed by his expression. His head was tilted back and his lips were parted, as if he were in some sort of meditative state.

After a few minutes, I wondered how long we would do this. After ten minutes, I began to wonder if this was normal. Did I speak to him? If I startled him, would it trigger something? A bad chain reaction? What if I got jolted and he did something to frighten me, and then I killed him?

After another ten minutes sitting there, I was fidgeting in my seat. Did I rip my hands away? What was he doing? What was he sensing?

“Fifo?” I whispered, then stared hard for a sign he’d heard me.

His eyes might’ve squeezed shut a bit tighter, but I wasn’t sure. It wasn’t enough of a movement to be a real reaction. Maybe his eyes were itchy?

“Fifo?” I spoke louder this time.

He took in a gasp of breath and his eyes shot open. It was jarring enough that I tugged my hands back, just to be on the safe side.

He looked physically normal, but he stared at me with a strange look.

“You speak to the dead,” he said. It wasn’t a question. He knew.

“Are you all right?” I asked, afraid to offer any more details until I was sure he could handle this. It was one thing to talk to the dead. It was another to talk to Death. If he couldn’t handle one, he’d never be able to handle the other.

“I’m wonderful. Through you, I was able to speak to some of my deceased family.” He hugged me before I could stop him.

I couldn’t stand it for more than a few seconds before my nerves got the best of me.

“I have a question, but I need to know this stays completely between us.”

“I would never betray the trust of another guide. What did you need to tell me?”

---