Page 100 of Séance

I can’t—I won’t—take the chance of losing her.

I only hope Rue and the guys won’t come to hate me for it later.

Chapter Thirty-two

RUE

It takes all my willpower to climb out of bed the next morning. Unease burns in my gut as I remember my confession last night. For the first time in my life, I told another person about my abilities.

While they looked like they believed me, it’s still a risk.

If they tell the wrong people, my life will be over.

At best, I would be locked away until theycuredme, but that’s if I was lucky. Worst-case scenario, I would be returned to my father’s loving care and locked away for my natural—or unnatural—life.

I refuse to believe the guys would ever do that, but I can’t get over the niggle of worry that I changed my fate by telling them the truth.

Not that I had much of a choice.

Danger stalks my every step, and I refuse to put them at risk without them knowing the consequences. I just hope my trust doesn’t come back to bite me on the ass later.

I take longer in the shower, not wanting to face the day. What if the guys took the night to think over my crazy claim and decided that I was insane or too much trouble?

Just the thought of the guys distancing themselves from me has my chest burning, and I absently rub the spot as I dress. Not even the new clothes I purchased can cheer up my gloomy thoughts.

Needing comfort, I pull on a pair of black skinny jeans, then I pick the fluffiest sweater in my closet. The pink furry monstrosity almost hits my knees. I fell in love with it the instant I laid eyes on it.

Wiping the tiredness from my eyes, I make my way downstairs, my mind on the journals that I stayed up reading last night almost until dawn. I scoured every page of the nearly thirty-something journals, searching for any mention of contacting spirits. Unfortunately, it appears only one ancestor had the same gift as me.

Her journal was sparse, the pages brittle and yellow with age. The ink faded over time, the penmanship nothing more than scribbles. The old French dialect was also a struggle to decipher.

After reading it from front to back, it only left me with more questions.

And worry.

Apparently, the young girl was barely twenty years old when they dragged her out of her home and burned her at the stake nearly two hundred years ago.

On the very same day I was born.

That doesn’t bode well for my future.

I don’t believe in coincidences, and I fear if I don’t learn from her mistakes, the same fate might befall me.

My heart ached for the girl’s struggles and her silent battle as her mind slowly unraveled. She kept her gift to herself, found agood man to marry, and raised a couple of kids. Unfortunately, our gifts turn into curses when they are denied.

With only weak wards to protect her, the girl’s sanity slowly unraveled, the spirits refusing to be silenced. Most of her journals consisted of mad rantings. Each entry she created showed her rapid deterioration, the last few pages nothing but nonsensical ramblings that either made no sense or were undecipherable.

Lost in my head, I shuffle into the kitchen, desperate for a mug of tea, and almost bump into Gunner, who’s standing sentinel in front of the stove, calmly cooking food. My distraction vanishes, and my eyes widen in shock. I curl my hands into fists to keep from reaching for him to confirm that he’s not a figment of my imagination.

“Here,” Jace murmurs, pressing a warm cup into my hands.

I automatically take a sip, then I sigh in bliss when a nice chai blend spills over my tongue. The shot of caffeine helps clear out the cobwebs enough that I barely even flinch when a shout comes from across the room.

“Pookie!”

I hardly have time to turn before Jameson is sprinting toward me. Jace rescues the cup from my hands seconds before impact, a wry grin on his face, not even bothering to try and protect me from his brother.

Jameson sweeps me up in his arms and spins, sending my feet flying out from underneath me. Tears burn the backs of my eyes, and I lean into his light, floral scent, secretly glad to be in his arms.

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