Page 94 of Haunted Hearts

Her giggles die down. There’s a short pause. During it, the waves crash nearby, keeping our clothes damp while we linger under the rising sun. Then, in an unusually cool voice, Willow whispers,

“I can’t wait to get my hands on him.”

Chapter30

WILLOW

It’s no real secret what lies beneath my dad’s hood when he appears as the true Grim Reaper. With a bony hand wrapped around his scythe, there’s no doubt that the rest of Death would look the same. And if one deduced that, they’d be right.

Having seen Dad in his second form like that hundreds of times, it’s not scary or weird to me. But seeing the bones of my own hand, wrapped around my own personal scythe does stir up unease in my chest. The change happens as I step through the Veil into the Realm of the Living. Though I don’t feel any different, the robe that wraps around me hides the truth. I’m notWillow Harvestnow, I’m Death.

Will this happen every time I cross over? It’s something I’ll have to ask Dad when I return.

In the meantime, I study my surroundings. Having opened the Veil just inside the gates of Everlast, I get a moment to marvel at the beautiful scenery before me. The last time I was here, Kwil and I had been barreling up this wide, marble street in the hopes of saving the others. There had been no time to stop and stare. So, I make sure to do so now. As the others step through the Veil behind me, I give Everlast a sweeping glance. There are rolling hills that climb higher further into Everlast, farmland to my right, and the sound of farm animals in the distance. The city itself, not too far up ahead, looks magical.

Everlast is a beautiful place. A rose is beautiful, too, yet the thorns make them dangerous.

There’s a reason the grass is so luscious, and the air smells so clean. The fortune of the Fae is a lie. Their longevity, ever-lasting health, and wealth of knowledge comes from what these people took from realms they’ve lived in and destroyed. While we may now reside in the Realm of the Dead, Everlast feels more morbid and eerie than the other realm ever has.

The Fae tried to capture me, just as Fulton had, yet they’d been unsuccessful. Not for the lack of trying, however. Their enchanted chains had left welts and bruises, drew blood when my skin split open, and the power in the metal… I shiver, pushing back the painful memory.

While I can push away the memories, the wrath and anger that were stirred up in their wake are not as easily ignored. And why should they be? Am I not justified in my anger? The Fae tried to enslave me in a world full of pain and misery. The ones in charge deserve my wrath, just as Fulton does.

When Theo asked for me to be the bad guy, I accepted with glee.

Because while I may be seen as the bad guy, I’m going to show the Fae who the real wicked ones are. The Elders have messed with the wrong person. My body trembles with barely concealed rage as I turn and wait for the others.

They come through one by one. Theo is right behind me, then comes Kwil, Viktor, Jonah, and finally Brock. As each steps forth, a deep matte black armor shimmers to life around their body. My ex-Ghosts have swords that appear at their waist, housed in a fancy leather sheath. Brock’s scythe materializes in his left hand. Jonah is the only one without a weapon, if you don’t count his horns or thick tail.

“Oh, this is weird. Why can’t I feel anything?” Jonah asks as he looks around with a scowl. “It’s not hot or cold here and…” he sniffs the air. “Why can’t I smell anything?”

Huh, I hadn’t noticed. It’s not terribly bothersome for me but judging by the Fae’s expressions, they’re a bit more uncomfortable than I am about it. Of course it’s more unpleasant for them. Their senses have been superior in both life and death. It must be jarring to go from excellent to none.

“Some of your senses will have been left behind in the Realm of the Dead,” Brock explains. “Sorry, I should have warned you about that. We have the important senses like sight and sound, touch… to an extent. We won’t feel if things are hot or cold, but we’ll feel textures.”

Viktor grunts, “Let’s just get this over with.”

My eyes flicker to him. For a second, my anger lessons as I realize that his eyes are no longer giving off their slight glow. I step towards him. “How’s your sight?”

It’s the wrong thing to ask. His jaw visibly clenches and a vein in his forehead bulges.

“Let’s just get this over with.” He stomps by me.

No, no, this won’t do. I won’t be having him struggle while we’re in enemy territory. Not all that long ago, my touch gave him the ability to see. A smug smile tugs at my lips. I bet I don’t need to touch him now to give him sight. It’s my soul that powers his vision in the Realm of the Dead, maybe all I have to do is tap into that part of me. My focus narrows on his body as he moves further away. Then I tap into my power. I expect it to explode from me, as it has in the Realm of the Dead, and then I would wrangle it into submission.

But I’m back in the Realm of the Living. Here, control is easy. All I have to do is give my power that little nudge and it does what I want without any fuss. I breathe in relief as it spills from me, down to my feet where it runs off, across the ground towards my white-haired Fae. It reaches him within seconds, and soaks into his armor. Viktor skids to a stop with a gasp.

He turns back to face me slowly. When our eyes meet, I find his glowing. Looks like it worked. I raise a brow and place a hand on my hip.

“Better?”

Viktor’s lips twitch, the vein in his forehead disappearing. “Better.”

I send him a wink before allowing my attention for the task at hand and fury, to return. It comes back so swiftly that my vision nearly turns red. I swear I feel the fire of injustice burning up my throat.

“Willow, are you ready?” Theo asks, coming to my side.

I roll my eyes. “I’ve been waiting to put everyone in this realm in their place for a long time, sweet cheeks.”

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