Page 23 of Haunted Hearts

Why do I have a feeling once she’s one hundred percent, I’m going to have my hands full with her? The thought amuses and intrigues me. What will Willow be like once all this drama is over? The amusement fades, however, when she looks away as a stronger tremor runs through her.

Mentally, I sigh.

I can’t sweep her away. She has her father here, who can help her better than I can. And then there are her friends who can literally keep her from falling apart. As we head for her apartment, I realize I should probably suggest again that she head straight back to bed. We can talk later, now that we have all the time in the world.

But a selfish part of me whispers that this may be my only opportunity alone with Willow for a while. Once the others realize she’s up, they’re going to hover over her. None of them, except for Theodon, have left her side for longer than it takes to eat a meal or shower. And even he only leaves for short durations to explore Death’s library.

Not that I blame them.

Willow’s little vanishing act is terrifying. Since we arrived at Death’s house, her physical form has vanished and reappeared on multiple occasions, at random times. We all saw it when she died, the way her body turns to smoke and simply disperses. But learning that she can’t control it, that Willow could quite literally be swept away and taken to the far reaches of the Realm of the Dead and be stuck out there for any given length of time… It’s enough for me to step back to let the guys learn how to control their ability to hold Willow’s soul in place.

“In case you need anything while you’re here, Death has an entire staff that will tend to you,” I explain to Willow as we walk. “Inside your apartment there are a few different levers. Each one runs to another part of the house. We can get someone in the kitchen to bring up a midday meal if you want.”

“Midday meal— Oh,lunch,” Willow’s bewilderment turns to amusement as she chuckles.

I smile at her. “Yes, you call it lunch.”

When we get to the doors of her apartment, I pull the one already slightly ajar, open it, and usher her in. I don’t miss the sharp flash of suspicion in her eyes as she steps inside. “You aren’t going to suggest I go lay down right?”

“Absolutely not,” I promise her as I follow her into her apartment.

The door to the bedroom has been left open, a sign of her haste during her departure. Leaving Willow’s side after shutting the door behind us, I move across the living quarters and head towards the bedroom. Inside, Jonah, Kwil, and Viktor are still sound asleep on the massive bed. Pushing aside the flare of jealousy that burns in my chest, I swing the door shut.

I turn to face the woman that I’ve been watching from afar for years. Willow walks further into the apartment to admire the space while I stroll over to the wooden levers along the wall. When I pull one, there’s a soft sound of twinkling bells before it’s silent again.

“Who knew Dad stayed in a place like this?” Willow murmurs.

I glance around, internally admitting that it’s a specular space. But while the room is nice, my gaze returns to Willow, who is much more stunning to look at. I watch as she tours the room, her face alight with curiosity. Though she seems preoccupied at the moment, I don’t miss the way her hands curl and relax at her sides, nor do I miss the way her throat swallows hard, as if she’s working down some emotion she doesn’t want to deal with.

“You didn’t know Death has a castle? Did he keep it a secret so that you wouldn’t be too excited to visit?” It’s an attempt to distract her. All I want to do is go to her and hold her until her fears are gone. The need for her towantme to come to her is the only thing that holds me back. I don’t want to suffocate or overwhelm her.

“Dad couldn’t tell me certain things while I was alive,” her voice is quiet as she continues to peruse the room. “I’m sure he could have told me about this but decided not to say anything on purpose.”

She smiles. It’s subdued and short lived, but I savor it just the same.

“Think you could get comfortable here?” While I ask it to keep her from dwelling on her reality, it causes my heart to squeeze painfully in my chest. The vision I had of our future together included spending time together at my place, in the silence of the woods. Not in her father’s home.

And certainly not with four other men around.

“Maybe… Before I consider living arrangements, maybe you can help me by sharing what you know about what’s been going on.”

I don’t miss the wobble in her voice. Maybe the best way to rid her discomfort is to tackle the source head on. I lean up against the wall and cross my arms over my chest.

“How about we start with what you remember?”

Willow pauses at the bar cart, just as a hard shiver shakes her frame. With her back turned to me, I can’t see her face, but there’s no missing the stiffness in her shoulders or the way her back goes rigid. For a long moment she doesn’t answer. When she does, her voice comes out soft,

“Pain. I remember the pain.”

Her answer makes my stomach twist. Fuck waiting for her to make a move. Pushing away from the wall, I walk across the room and stop only when I’m right beside her. I take her hand and pull her close to me.

“I wish the ending to your first life had been different, I really do.”

Willow lifts her head to look up at me. I suppress a shiver. The life that had been returning to her eyes has gone out, leaving those green irises dull. Sometimes souls get like this when they’ve been through a great ordeal leading up to their death. Most snap out of it within a few days. Hopefully, it won’t take her too long to recover.

“I vaguely recall Fulton telling me that he planned to use my essence to fuel his strength and help him become all powerful. But that seems like a dream.” She pauses as she looks away from me to gaze around the room. “I—I don’t remember too much after dying.”

I’m not surprised. And if she was thinking clearly, Willow wouldn’t be either, since she dealt with souls often. Most spirits aren’t aware of their death, at least not right away. Most don’t remember the events leading up to or even right after it either. Theodon and the others are a rare case due to their situation and Death’s involvement. Even Jonah admitted the other night that he can barely recall his own death.

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