Page 29 of Ghostly Touches

We follow the two slow-moving Elders through the house, into an elevator, and down eight floors underground. When the doors slide open, we step out into a large space. How I know the size of the room, I’m not sure, since it is utterly pitch black, except for three lights that hang down over three raised stone beds.

My attention is immediately captured by the three bodies lying unmoving on each of the beds. The only body that concerns me is the one on the far right. There Willow lies, unmoving. My breath catches in my throat. The need to find her, to see her once more, doesn’t lessen now that she’s in sight. It only increases the desire to touch her. To hold her again. Seeing her like this sends a rippling of fury scorching through me.

What have they done?

“What is this?” Viktor asks. To my surprise, his voice is tight.

“She’s spelled so she can’t hear, see, smell, feel, or taste anything,” Bernard says as he moves over to Willow. “It’s a pretty severe punishment, so we don’t leave most people here long. Just a day or two, because that type of punishment… It’s not good on the mind. I didn’t realize we hadn’t moved her.” He glares at Claire.

“She’s a necromancer, which makes her just as deplorable as the creatures trying to break in here! She uses the devil’s craft to manipulate spirits. It’s unnatural!” Claire says defensively. “We warned her, you know. She just didn’t listen.”

“She used her power because we needed her to!” I bark at her. My hand reaches out for her neck again, but I manage to stop myself. Through clenched teeth, I add, “She was working for us.”

“But you weren’t even there, and she didn’t tell us that. How were we supposed to know?” the witch says with a sniff of disdain.

“None of us gave her the opportunity to tell us what she was up to,” Bernard says as he waves a hand over Willow’s face. He gives us a guilty look and says, “We were rash. I’m sorry we may have interrupted your mission. Please, forgive us.”

Before either Viktor or I can speak, Willow wakes with a gasp, and her back arches off the stone platform.

“There, there. I know you’re a bit disoriented, but it will pass,” Bernard says gently to Willow, who frantically starts sucking in air.

Her eyes are wide and wild as she sits up and looks around. At the sight of her body trembling hard, the monster in me does something it’s never done before. A soft, barely audible whine slips past my lips. Awhine. I didn’t know monsters could feel emotion. Maybe it’s the man in me? Who knows? At the moment, I don’t care. I take a step towards her. My fingers itch to reach out and touch her.

Suddenly, Willow’s body jerks to the side. Willow rolls off the stone bed and catches herself on her feet in a crouch. But her legs give out from under her, and she falls to the ground, wincing.

“Oh, come now, it’s notthatbad—”

Willow’s shriek of agony cuts off whatever else Claire has to say.

“Willow, you need to calm down,” Bernard says. “Your body needs to adjust. Everything will feel overwhelming for a day or so but—”

“It’s fine, Bernard. The dirty necromancer here is just overreacting.” Claire rolls her eyes as she steps away from our small group. “Sensory deprivation won’t kill you, just disorient you for a bit.”

Willow’s head jerks upward. The murderous look in her eyes starts up a feverish frenzy of excitement humming through my veins. My vibrations change at the promise of retribution. I move to Willow’s side just as I catch the change of color in her eyes. From olive green to a glowing emerald, Willow’s eyes brighten as she stares at the witch. I follow her gaze to see Claire’s eyes widen as she clutches her chest. She lets out a croak before her eyes roll up into her head, and she collapses.

Bernard gasps and takes a step away from us. “Willow, I’m sorry!”

“You’resorry?” she asks, her voice a raspy whisper. “You held me under an enchantment inside my own mind. I was goingcrazy!”

Willow screeches before covering her ears with her hands, squeezing her eyes shut. I crouch down next to her, unsure of how to help. Willow opens her eyes slowly, and I can see the fog of pain clouding them. She drops her hands away from her ears to stare at me.

“You’re safe now, Willow. We’re going to get you out of here,” I whisper to her softly, hoping the volume doesn’t bother her hearing.

I start to place my hand on her back but stop, knowing it will only hurt her. Guilt twists my insides, causing me to feel ill. We left her to be tortured. This is our fault.

“Something is wrong with my soul,” she whispers to me and then glances at Viktor. “Something is wrong withallof our souls.”

I try not to react to her words. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. Clearly, she’s confused and flustered. Nevertheless, unease blossoms in my gut.

“Willow, can you stand, or do you need help?” I ask her.

She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “I can hardly feel my legs. They’re asleep.”

“I can put you to sleep so your body can regulate your senses naturally,” Bernard offers quickly.

“Use your magic on her one more time, and I’ll eat your eyes, mage,” I warn him. The threat is a promise.

“Here.” Viktor moves towards us. He unlatches the cloak around his neck and removes it from his shoulders. He swings it over Willow, who flinches at the contact with the material.

---