Page 19 of The Spark that Ignites
“Wait.” Emmery caught his wrist, somehow solid, but the sensation was indescribable. “What do you mean I won’t remember?”
The phantom sighed, his eyes fixed where she held him. “It’s the magic. It won’t allow you to remember. Every night you forget me.” He didn’t pull away from her grasp and instead stepped toward her, causing Emmery’s stomach to flip. “It’s all quite confusing. Somehow, I remember you, but you don’t remember me. We go through this nearly every night.” He studied her with those green eyes as if she was a rare piece of literature.
“But ... this is a dream.” Head spinning, she dropped his wrist. “You’re not real.”
A humourless laugh rumbled in his chest. “I can assure you, I’m real. But this,” he said gesturing to his body, “isn’t what I really look like if you were wondering.”
Emmery cocked her head. “Then tell me what you look like.”
His teasing smile set her blood on fire. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
This was too bizarre. Emmery sorted through the information—dream, Divide, won’t remember—and splayed her hand over her scars. “If you’re using magic then you’re like me.”
It wasn’t a question, but he answered anyway. “I’mKenna, yes.”
“Is this some sort of spell? How are you here?” She sucked in a breath. “And again, whoareyou?”
The ghost paced, his steps leisurely but deliberate. “I can’t remember where I’m from, my name, what I look like, how allthiscame to be or even how I got here but—” His gaze fixed on Emmery, his eyes searing her. Setting her alight. “All I know is every night I look for you.”
Her heart throbbed. Because why did that sound romantic? Emmery studied the strange mist surrounding his body like maybe if she stared hard enough, she could discover the man beneath it. “Every night you ... look for me?”
“I don’t always find you.” He stilled and turned to her, his eyes full of an emotion she couldn’t decipher. “But, yes. When I’m here there’s only you and me.”
Emmery took a large step back, because this was too good to be true. “Why?”
A wry smile tugged at his mouth. “That’s a question I would also like to know the answer to. All I know is I wake up here and all I can think about, all I can see or feel, is you, Emmery.”
Her heart stilled at the sound of her name on his lips and she couldn’t breathe, her chest full like she was drowning again.
But Emmery managed to choke out, “How do you know my name?”
“How could I forget?” When she retreated again, he gave her a small smile and sighed as he lay his hand over his heart. “Your name lives in here. It’s part of me.”
“But you can’t remember yours? That’sabsurd. What do I call you?”
His eyes overflowed with longing, saturating his tone. “Whatever you like. It makes no difference.”
Trying to lighten the heaviness hanging between them, she asked, “How about I call you Shade? Because of this whole—” She gestured to him. “Ghost thing.”
To her relief a deep, carefree laugh burst from him. Gods, that sound—though it was hard to make out amongst the echo—resounded inside her heart.
“Shade it is.”
“What’s so funny?”
“You always pick the same name, Emmery.” His eyes twinkled with wicked delight. “At least you’re consistent.”
Crossing her arms, she replied, “There’s no way to know that. You could be lying.”
He leaned toward her, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “I suppose you’ll never know.”
Good gods, why was she staring at his lips? Or at least what she could make out in the shifting mist.
Emmery shook her head, desperate to clear whatever spell he’d cast on her. Was this truly a dream? It seemed real but time raced, each minute equivalent to ten, the seconds ticking by faster than her galloping heart. “How long?”
“How long do we have or how long have we been meeting like this?”
She shrugged. “Well, both, I suppose.”
