Page 118 of Ghostly Touches

“Alright, but let’s go.” Jonah lets go of my hand to hold his out in front of him to stop traffic as we start to cross.

I make it across the street before I’m nauseous. Dizziness catches me off guard, and I stumble. Jonah catches my arm before my knees hit the pavement.

“Willow?”

I don’t answer. My stomach heaves, and I double over to retch out nothing. My stomach has nothing to offer up, so I stand there and dry heave. I grow dizzier and try to blink it away. Jonah’s arm wraps around my waist as he guides me to the side and out of people’s way. Thankfully, my dry heaving doesn’t last long. Panting, I slowly stand up.

“Come on, we have to keep going,” I groan.

“We need to find a place to hide,” Jonah objects. “Clearly, running isn’t an option right now.”

“Or you can stop and listen to us,” a deep voice says behind us. I squeeze my eyes shut hoping that will make the person behind us disappear.

Slowly, I open my eyes and turn around. Viktor stands just a few feet away. I curse my luck and take a step back. If we were going to fight anyone, I am glad it’s Viktor. With his poor vision, I think we have the advantage. Add bad vision to an explosive personality, and we may be able to just wear him out or get him to slip up in a rage.

Reaching into the pockets of the pants I purchased from a thrift shop, I pull out a pocket knife. Jonah reaches up for his collar. Shit, I hope he doesn’t have to shift to get us out of here. That would certainly draw unwanted attention to ourselves.

Viktor notes my weapon and has the audacity to smile in amusement.

“Safe to say my sword is bigger than yours.” He even chuckles a little. Viktor? Chuckling? Bastard. I glare at him and reach out for help. Five spirits materialize around Viktor. The sight of them causes his smile to vanish as he eyes them warily.

Next to me Jonah grunts before falling to his knees.

“Jonah?” I call to him in alarm. I pull my eyes off Viktor to watch Jonah reach up and grab something sticking out of his neck. He pulls it in front of him, and we both can clearly see it’s a tranquilizer dart.

“Run, Willow,” he gasps before falling face first onto the sidewalk.

Before I can do anything, something sharp hits my shoulder. Oh fuck. I reach back and yank the dart out of me. Already my vision begins to blur. My hold on the spirits around Viktor falls away, and they disappear. I can see Viktor smirking. Hatred boils in my gut as my vision spins and slowly the world goes dark.

* * *

I feel worsethan ever before.

The scent of mildew hangs in the cool, stale air. My stomach rolls as I breathe it in deeply. My head is pounding, while my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. I’m so thirsty. I roll onto my back. I’m on something soft. A mattress? It takes a great deal of effort, but I manage to pry my eyelids open, one at a time.

My vision clears enough for me to tell I’m in a dimly lit basement made of old cinder blocks cemented together. There is one light bulb dangling from a beam on the ceiling giving off an orange glow. I look down to find myself on a twin mattress that looks relatively new. It’s completely out of place in this dreary basement. Frowning, I look around to find Jonah several feet away on his own mattress tied up and still unconscious. Between the two of us, there is a single wooden chair that looks like it’s seen better days.

Peeling my tongue off the roof of my mouth is work. What’s even harder is making my throat move.

“Jonah?” I croak.

He doesn’t move. I swallow and try again, but I can’t manage words this time. I give up for now as I try to gain my bearings. I try to use my hands to help me scoot back against the wall, but I find both are tied together at the wrists.

What the hell?

I give my binding a weak tug that does nothing. Groaning, I hunch forward. My mind is foggy, and I feel like I might be sick. Do I have the energy not to throw up in my own lap? God, I hope so. As my eyelids drift shut, I hear the sound of the door opening. Forcing my eyes back open, I lift my head and watch as someone descends down the stairs with unhurried steps. Internally, I cringe when Theo comes to a stop at the bottom of the stairs.

“You’re awake. Good.” He moves towards me. Again, his pace is unhurried as he makes his way over to me. I catch sight of the glass of water in his hand. Please, let that be for me.

He grabs the rickety wooden chair with one hand and sets it in front of me before taking a seat. Carefully, he places the glass of water by his feet. Okay, maybe it’s not for me. Time ticks by as we regard one another. With his back to the light, Theo’s face is cast in shadows, making him hard to read. Theodon leans forward, bracing his forearms on his legs as his face gets closer to me.

“You’ve put me in a precarious situation, Willow,” he starts slowly, his voice eerily soft. “The only way to get out of it is with your help.”

I’veputhimin a precarious situation? Has he not noticed my bound hands and where I’m currently being held? For some reason my foggy brain finds this hilarious. My shoulders shake, and a chuckle slips past my dry lips.

“Sure, Theo. How can I help you?” I ask, my voice raspy.

His head tilts just enough for the light to cast his mouth into view. One side of his mouth pulls up into a cold smile.

“Thank you for your cooperation. Let’s begin.”

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