Page 64 of Haunted Hearts

Brock shakes his head, “There’s nothing in your specific realm that could kill us, except for the warlock.”

Of course not.

“There’s more,” Brock sighs and looks away from me. “There are Ghosts working with, or for, Fulton. I found one of your cloaks at the scene where Remy was supposed to be at.”

My fists curl up at my side as my heart hammers in my chest. I glare at Brock, though my anger isn't directed towards him. I want to believe that the Brotherhood wouldn’t be so stupid as to fall in with the warlock, not again. After their failed attempt with Willow, you’d think they’d learn not to mess with Death Magic.

Maybe… Maybe this is just a few Ghosts branching out on their own? The idea doesn’t give me a ton of hope since I know the Brotherhood is corrupted, but they can turn things around, right?

“Why are you telling me this and not including the others?” My voice comes out sharper than I intended.

“Because they listen to you. They see you as the figurehead and I figured that if I want to show you, and Willow, that I can play nice, this is the way to do it. I need to let you lead and guide us in situations like this, especially since I have no idea what to do.”

I blink in surprise. How very… noble. I bow my head in appreciation.

“Thank you,” I pause as our eyes meet. “But just so you know, we’re all equals. We each have a role in Willow’s life, as she does in ours. There’s no hierarchy.”

The skepticism on Brock’s face is short lived as he shrugs. “If you say so.”

I don’t push the issue. If Willow forgives him, which I have a feeling she will, the reaper will see soon enough how our dynamic works.

“This is something that Death will expect Willow to take care of, I just know it.” Brock turns his head towards the sound of laughter. “According to the others, he’s out trying to repair the damage happening here, but I know it’s just a matter of time before he comes back and asks Willow to do her job.”

A soft groan slips past my lips as I shake my head. I knew we’d have to go after Fulton, but I thought we’d have more time.

“Trust me, I know she’s not ready, and I’m sure Death knows that too. But Fulton may not wait until she’s capable of controlling every aspect of her gift before he tries to do something stupid again,” Brock frowns.

There has to be a way to stop Fulton before it turns into an all-out war between us and the warlock. Willow’s not ready to go toe-to-toe with the mage, nor is the Realm of the Living ready for Willow when she returns to it. If the living were bothered by her power before, they’re certainly not going to enjoy it when she returns and uses it this time.

With a heavy sigh, I tell the reaper, “We’ll figure this out.”

“It’s a lot to figure out.”

I snort at the understatement. “Yes, it is.”

Brock nods absentmindedly. When more laughter litters the woods around us I feel the need to ask, “Is something happening? Why are they here and not reaping?”

I look around. I’m sure I see movement again by the house across the pond but it’s fleeting.

“It’s their downtime. Kind of like your realm’s version of weekends,” Brock chuckles at something. It trails off in a sigh. “After returning from our search for our friend, a few reapers suggested having a bonfire to keep our hopes up. These things usually end with a bunch of drunks singing and dancing about. Tootsie makes a mean gumbo, so I’m sure there will be fights over who gets the last ladle of it.”

Dancing? Food? I know someone who would love those two things. We’d be leaving the protection of Death’s wards, but the others and I can watch out for trouble.

“Would they care to be joined by a few outsiders?”

Brock turns back to me. “No, the more the merrier. But you’re not suggesting what I think you’re about to suggest, are you?”

“Willow’s been having a hard time these past few days. Maybe a night off to relax wouldn’t be so bad.” I can’t believe the words are coming out of my mouth. There are so many things that could go wrong with her leaving the protection of Death’s house. But living a sheltered life isn’t where Willow will thrive and be happy. “It’s not like she wouldn’t have a ton of protection around her. If anything tries hunting her down while we’re around, we’ll deal with it.”

Brock considers the option for a long, quiet moment. His eyes linger on the pond as his train of thought deepens. I give him the time. It’s a big decision. With Willow just now getting the hang of her own gifts, having to fight the realm itself to stay present, and dealing with creatures that will be able to sense her power, bringing Willow out of the small safety net Death provided could be risky.

“They’ll sense Willow’s power and have questions,” Brock warns, breaking his silence.

“Death never said Willow had to hide who she is here.” It would be wise not to announce it to the entire realm but if a few people know, it can’t hurt.

Brock finally pulls his eyes away from the water to look at me. A warm, and genuine smile pulls at the reaper’s mouth. “I think it’s a great idea. I’ll send you back while I stay and let the others know there are going to be a few extra bodies joining us.”

My mouth twitches upwards. “Let’s get this party started.”

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