Page 106 of Of Sins and Sacrifice

“Yes. But that means you must cross over as soon as possible.”

He glances at the note in his hands.

“I tried to go back home. But for some reason, I can’t go further than a hundred miles or so.”

“You’re probably tied to the area because it’s the place you died,” I comment. “And you’re a young ghost. That’s normal.”

He nods slowly.

“How can I cross over then?”

I think for a moment. There’s no magic word to call a messenger back. They are soulless, mechanical beings acting on strict orders. If they cannot retrieve a soul, they leave. But…

“When another person dies, you can follow the messenger that comes for that soul,” I suggest.

That should work—I think.I shouldknowthis, yet we were never taught about the intricacies of a soul or what happens in irregular scenarios like Tommy’s case. We were only taught the basics—mortal dies, soul is taken by a messenger; if not, by a collector later on. No textbook I read ever mentioned what happens if a soul decides to cross over on its own,beforethe collectors come looking for it.

“Thank you, miss. I will do that.” He smiles.

I force myself to return the smile.

“You can wait for your Major here. I must leave.”

He nods absentmindedly, already focused on his crumpled note as he mouths the words in the letter to himself.

I turn to leave, taking with me both the coat andhisshirt. After all the lies he’s been spouting, the least he can do is make it up to me with physical goods as payment.

The chilly air hits me in the face as I march forward toward my dorm.

My teeth clatter in my mouth, yet I find that it’s not the low temperature that’s making my body react thusly. It’s a deep-seated sense of disappointment.

Despite our arguments, I truly thought Mi—Vitry was a good man, with good intentions. It’s disappointing to realize that is not so. All along, he had duplicitous intentions with me.

That damn shovel!

He chose the wrong person to mess with.

My hands ball into fists and slowly, the initial upset gives way to anger.

How dare he?

Not only did he fool me into calling himminejust to mock me, but if he already has a sweetheart or whatever waiting for him, then what were his intentions with me? Not that Iwantedhim to have any intentions with me—of course not. Even if he were free and unattached, I would have refused his advances. But it’s the mere intent behind his actions. He deceived me from the first, and like a damn fool, I believed everything he told me.

Yet there is one thing that bothers me more than the deceit.

He has a female. Somewhere out there, there is a female he calls his own. While I was calling himmine, he was calling another femalemine.

I stop abruptly. Stomping my feet on the ground, I let out a few expletives.

Stop it, Minerva!

It doesn’t matter that he has a female. It only matters that he tried to take advantage of me. That is the only thing I should focus my anger on.

I should have trusted my instincts when they were telling me he was bad news. And to think I took a damn bullet to the shoulder for him.

I should have let the scoundrel die! Or at least bear the brunt of the pain. It wouldn’t have been what he deserves, but it would have been a start.

With that thought, I remember my injury. Moving my left arm around, I realize there’s no more pain. It seems the wound healed after all.

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