Page 33 of Wicked Ends
I say a silent thank you to Soren.
Seventeen
Rose
By midnight, I’m trudging through the woods, snow crunching under my boots. I arrived early on purpose, needing time to clear my head before facing Ash. The day had been a bust, another four hours in the library yielded nothing useful about anchoring spirits or stopping them from fading. Just more disturbing illustrations and warnings about not messing with the dead.
So much for getting stronger. So much for saving anyone. Drake had managed to stay with me for all of seven minutes that morning before blinking out like a candle. Every time he fades, it takes longer for him to come back, and every time I see him, it’s like a little less is left. The books say that’s how it works, with unfinished business or not, ghosts bleed into nothing, given enough time.
I keep walking, my hands shoved in my pockets, eyes on the ground so I don’t trip over a root and faceplant. If I let myself think about Drake too long, I’ll start to spiral, and there’s no time for that when Ash is probably already lurking somewhere.
The forest is silent as always. It’s like a dead zone, and I know it has something to do with the wards that protect the academy. I pull my coat tighter to keep out the cold. I find a fallen log and brush the snow off before sitting. The cold seeps through my jeans, but I barely notice, I’m still so stuck in my head.
When Ash steps into the clearing, I don’t hear him coming. He just appears, melting out of the shadows like he’s one of them.
“You’re early.” His voice carries in the stillness. He looks different tonight, tense. His usual mask of cool indifference is slipping.
I stand, brushing snow off my pants. “Thought I’d get a head start on freezing to death.”
He doesn’t smile. “How’s your ghost?”
The question catches me off guard. “How did you?—”
“I can feel him through you.” Ash taps his own arm where my mark would be. “The connection. He pulls on your magic when he’s with you.”
I hadn’t realized. “Can you feel everything single thing I feel?”
His eyes meet mine. “Mostly the strongest emotions. Fear. Pain.” A pause. “Lust.”
My cheeks are red-hot despite the cold. “That’s invasive.”
“That’s magic.” He steps closer. “Tonight we focus on defense. Jasmine’s watching you, and you need to be prepared.”
“For what?”
“For anything.” His voice is grim. “She’s not like Helena. She doesn’t play by rules.”
“No shit. She killed her sister in front of me.”
“She’s capable of far worse.”
“Worse than murdering her own sister?”
“There’s a reason they locked her away, Rose.”
“So it’s true. Jasmine Wickersly was imprisoned by her own family.”
Ash circles me. “The Wickersly family history is not where your focus should be right now.”
He stops behind me, and I can feel how close he’s standing. I wait, but he doesn’t touch me. I cross my arms, but I don’t move either.
“You have to learn to shield yourself. Not just physically.” He raises a hand, and I feel the magic gather, pressure building like a mild headache. The next second, a blast of invisible force slams into me, knocking me off balance. I stagger, but don’t fall.
Ash doesn’t stop. He sends another pulse that hits my chest, making my lungs seize up. “Stop—” I gasp, but the next one comes faster, a punch to the gut, doubling me over.
“Jasmine won’t give you a warning,” Ash says. “She’ll hit you when you’re weakest, when you’re distracted, when you’re with someone you care about.” He doesn’t name names, but I know that’s what he means.
For the next hour, he puts me through the magical equivalent of basic training. How to create barriers, how to deflect energy, how to sense an attack before it lands. It’s exhausting, draining, but each time I succeed, the mark on my arm glows brighter.
