Page 70 of Haunted Hearts

“Remy’s full name is Remington Nightshade,” he informs.

“Remy is yourbrother?”

Brock smiles. “No, all souls born in this realm are born as a Nightshade.”

“Thank goodness we’re not all related. Can you imagine being related to this freak?” Caveman points a thumb at Arty who glares at him.

“Jealousy is an ugly color on you, Cave.”

“At least I’m not—"

“Shut up you two!” Tootsie hisses “Willow’s trying to work.”

I chuckle at their bickering, which clearly comes from a place of love.

Pushing my amusement aside, I focus on the energy humming inside of me. It’s there and ready to be used. My initial reaction is to reach for it and to demand its compliance. I fight back that instinct. While I was alive, I may have needed a strong and steady concentration to summon a spirit, but I can feel the difference now. As I inhale and close my eyes, I allow my consciousness to slip slowly into that well of power within me. The moment I submerge myself into this incredible energy, I can feeleverythingaround me.

From the souls sitting around me, to the spirit of the trees and grass. The fish in the pond that are too wise to get caught on the lines baited for them, the birds bunkering down in their nests for the night in the trees around us… I feel it all. And it’s not just the immediate area. I know, if I tried, I could contact the souls in the town that’s miles away, or further out, towards the rocky terrain where another small village is situated. Anything that has been alive, and now lives their second life, it is all an extension of me… and an extension of the Realm of the Dead.

Knowing that if I think too hard about it, I might get overwhelmed and lose control, I push all thoughts aside and focus on one particular soul.

“Remington Nightshade,” I whisper out loud.

The moment his name is thought of and my desire to find him becomes my main focus, my connection to the reaper snaps into place. I’m yanked forward, through time and space. It takes seconds before I crash through the Veil and my mind is back in the Realm of the Living. The connection between me and Remington doesn’t falter.

Suddenly, everything stills. In my mind’s eye, I find myself in an empty, old hotel room.

The room is slightly out of focus around the edges of my vision, as if I’m looking through a telescope. When I try to concentrate, I can only make out the worn-out shaggy carpet, paneled walls, and a tipped over chair. There's a window with smoke-stained plastic blinds blocking out the sun, and a lamp with a bulb that’s flickering on and off. Papers are thrown about on a desk and litter the floor, but I can’t make out what they say.

“Woah, this is weird.”

Brock’s voice startles me so badly, I almost lose the connection with his friend. At my jump, his hands grab mine tighter to hold me steady.

“What is?” Tootsie asks.

“Is everything alright?” Theo’s voice comes from next to me.

“Yeah, it’s just… I can see what Willow’s seeing,” Brock murmurs. “It’s the last room in the hotel we visited, Tootsie.”

I frown as I continue to search the space for signs of the reaper. When contacting spirits, I’ve never been able toseethem when they were in another realm. This is a whole new level of necromancy. It’s both cool and a bit uncomfortable. My eyes dart around the room and focus on random objects.

“You were here before and couldn’t find him?” I ask Brock without opening my eyes. Something tells me if I do, I’ll have to start my search for Remy all over again.

“Yeah, there was no sign of him,” Brock confirms.

They searched the room and couldn’t find his friend. Yet, my connection draws me here. So where are you Remington? Moving around the room is awkward but I manage it. I check under the bed first. There’s nothing.

“Remington, where are you?” I whisper.

The room shifts as I touch that connection between us with my mind. Following the pull to where it’s the strongest, I turn and head towards the closet. One door is missing, making it easier to peer inside. The darkness immediately disappears, and a dull purple glow brightens the small space.

My eyes latch on to where the glow is emanating from. A gasp slips past my lips at the same time Brock swears violently.

“End the connection, Willow,” he snaps. He tries to yank his hands free, but I hold tight.

“What is it?” Kwil asks. “What do you see, Willow?”

“Stones, glowing fucking stones,” Brock answers for me. “Who the hell checked the closet?”

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