Page 60 of Haunted Hearts

“Nothing,” I shake my head, letting my hand fall away. “I just don’t want to lose anyone else.”

The smile that stretches across the other reaper’s face is nearly identical to the one who’s missing. Remy and Arty were always close, of course their tendencies and mannerisms would rub off on each other.

“You know, for someone who hasn’t been around much these past few years, you’re pretty sentimental,” Arty chuckles before turning and walking down the hallway.

“If I knew that you guys were in danger, I never would have been gone so long.”

Arty walks through a door and disappears out of sight for a moment before he reappears. “You know I forgive you, Brock. What’s five years in the span of infinity?”

Despite the foreboding growing in my gut, I chuckle.

“Thanks, Art.”

Our search is thorough. We peek into every room, every janitor closet, and even check under beds. We run into the others before splitting up again, taking different floors and hallways. The only signs of life come from the rats I catch sight of on the fourth floor, picking through the sparse vending machine selections. By the time we’ve all reached the top floor, the others are visibly wary now.

“There’s nobody here,” Tootsie declares as we enter the last room. “No decaying corpse, no bones… just nothing.”

“Why would Remy come here then?” Caveman shoves the small twin bed off to the side to look beneath it. It slides across the room and hits the wall and part of the small desk. The lamp that’s sitting on the desk falls off, along with some papers.

I start to turn back towards the door but stop. Turning slowly, I look back at the papers that have fallen to the floor. They’re crisp and white. The ink scribbled on them is dark and untouched by the sunlight that’s filtering into the room through the open window. Whatever this is, it’s new. I walk over, crouch down, and scoop up the paperwork. My heart drops as my eyes scan the writing. I read the next page, then the next.

Spells. Someone is writing downspells. In the place where Remy went missing. My heart drops. This isn’t a coincidence. The ink is stillfresh. Fulton escaped the Realm of the Dead and is back to his old tricks. Iknowit. My instincts have been screaming something is wrong with this entire situation and telling me that Fulton has something to do with it. I have to warn the others. Letting the paper fall back to the ground, I turn and look back at my friends. Caveman has already left the room, Arty right on his heels. I open my mouth to call them back, to show them the proof, but then I close it.

If I tell them about Fulton, and how the Ward knows about the warlock, then they’ll get upset about not being in the know. They’ll react by taking things into their own hands. Going against Fulton would be a death sentence for my friends. I can’t let that happen. Swallowing back the warning I have stuck to my tongue, I move to leave with the others.

Tootsie is lingering by the door, her eyes casting around the room. As I approach her, her red brows slam together. She moves around me, crouches next to the dresser, and reaches behind it. When her hand returns into view, she’s holding a white jacket.

“What’s this and why isn’t it covered in dust like everything else?” She holds it up for us both to inspect.

The article of clothing is not a jacket, it’s a cloak with silver embroidery around the hood and at the end of the sleeves. My heart sinks even further. Theo, Kwil, and Viktor were all wearing this exact same cloak when I’d first seen them through the Veil. And yesterday they’d mentioned that the Brotherhood used to associate with Fulton.

Internally, I groan. Fulton is definitely back at it. If he’s trying to get back to the Realm of the Dead, or if he’s trying to harvest Death Magic from reapers again, that could be why the new realms are extremely unstable.

And if he is back at it, Fulton isn’t doing it alone. Clearly, he’s renewed his relationship with the Brotherhood, or at the very least, a few Ghosts. Shit, what am I going to do? WhatcanI do? I need to talk to someone who knows what’s going on and bounce some theories off of them.

But the only ones who know about Fulton are Willow and her guys. Given how I left things with Willow, I’m sure she’s gone back to tell them all about our fight. Will they even want to listen to me now? My mind races as I try to figure out what to do. If things are getting bad again, Death is going to need to step in. But if he’s helping keep the realms together, how’s he going to—

Shit. He’s going to use Willow to clean up the mess in this world.

Willow against Fulton again? My heart leaps up from where it had dropped, only to race in fear for Willow’s safety. I need to warn her and the others. Fuck, but I need to mend what I’ve broken too. How the hell am I going to do that?

When I don’t answer her, Tootsie just shrugs and drops the cloak. “I thought these things went out of style in this realm a while ago.”

“Yeah, well, some of the people here are stuck in their ways,” I mutter, pushing past her. “Come on, let’s search the area outside of the hotel. Maybe there will be some signs of Remy out there.”

And if not, it at least gives me time to think about everything I’ve uncovered.

Chapter19

VIKTOR

Over the course of the next few days, a routine is formed.

It starts with getting up and eating early. By the time we’re done with breakfast and make it down onto the beach, the twin suns are just beginning to rise. Thankfully, Death’s staff has raked the sand of the bones Willow brought down, so we have the space to move about as we train without stepping on them. Now those bones line the bottom of the dunes, giving the tranquil ocean setting an ominous feel.

On the beach, Theodon dedicates most of his time to Willow, working on her patience and control over her power. After what Kwil told us about Willow’s encounter with Fulton, we’re all more determined than ever to prepare her for whatever he is cooking up.

The first two days are rough for Willow. It seemed like every time she eventhoughtabout using her power, the world exploded around us, or she’d get pummeled with the aftermath of whatever chaos she created. It doesn’t help that in the middle of practice, the realm would try to pull her away from us. Battling that, and clearly distracted by something, is giving Willow a run for her money. Thankfully, by day three, she begins to get the hang of her power. There was less destruction and more purpose in her attempts to control it. On the fourth day, she almost looked natural wielding it.

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