Page 96 of Haunted Hearts

“I’ll only ask you one more time,” my voice drops into a whisper that carries on the wind. “Who speaks for the Fae?”

“Willow, I sense Death Magic, watch it,” Brock warns sharply from behind me.

I sigh dramatically. The moment all the air in my lungs is gone, the army of Ghosts that surround us drop as one. The ones on the rooftops of nearby buildings either fall forward and hit the ground hard or crumble safely where they stand. The lingering crowd goes down too.

Brock sighs and adds softly, “They can see us as spirits, Willow.”

Annoyance races down my spine. Spirits rise from their bodies to stare in horror at me and my knights. So much for only me being seen. Ok, well, maybe their presence will only heighten the fear.

I take one single step forward. My toe hits the bottom of the first step. The spirits of the Ghosts back away from me in terror, or at least try to. I can’t let them leave their bodies, they may not be able to return to them otherwise. It’s a delicate balance. One I won’t worry about too much, but the less people I kill here the better I’ll feel when my vengeance has been exacted.

“Now, that I have your attention. I want to know who speaks for the Fae.”

“Be gone, demon!” someone roars from the top of the stairs.

My gaze lifts to find four older Fae hurrying into view from the inside of the building. They are wearing navy blue robes with gold rope holding them together. It matches the gold embroidery around the sleeves. I remember those robes and those who wore them. While these Elders aren’t the same ones that tried to capture me, their attire tells me their role here in the temple.

The next boom of thunder is so intense, nearby windows shatter. My heart races as my vision narrows. The four of them don’t descend the stairs where the bodies of their Ghosts lay, their spirits struggling to get free of my hold.

“Theodon of Windom, Kwil of Glenwig, and Viktor of Fowlmore, it seems even in death we cannot get rid of your vile presence,” an Elder calls down.

This particular Fae looks like he could be the youngest of the four, with mouse-brown hair, a narrow, flawless face, and a straighter posture.

I hear Theo’s swift intake of breath, but I refuse for him to waste any words on these people.

“Do you speak for the Fae?” I ask sharply.

“We do, yes, though we have no words for evil entities like y—”

“Then you will listen to what I have to say.” With just a thought all four of them drop like flies.

One falls forward, their face smashing into the marble before their body tumbles three more steps down before coming to a halt. Blood smears the white stairs behind it. The sight of it excites me far more than it should. Huh, strange. Since when did I become a bloodthirsty woman?

Probably when people started demandingmyblood.

A grin splits across my face. I watch for a moment as their spirits struggle desperately to get back into their bodies. Without me, there is no returning to life. Right now, I’m death, retribution, and vengeance. The wind shrieks around us as it picks up. Ash floats down from the sky and turns the air around us gray.

“You are the Elders of the Ghost Brotherhood.”

The four Fae Elders stop struggling to give me their attention. Their expressions vary from dread to horror, to… is that acceptance I see on the oldest Elder’s face? His red hair falls into his face as he looks away from me.

Huh, that one is most certainly guilty of something.

I walk up the steps towards them. With a flick of my wrist the spirits of Ghosts between me and them are forced to kneel. Their spirits tremble in my wake as I pass by. A few of them plea for me to release them, to give them their lives back. Their voices melt into the background along with the other screams and cries of the citizens, watching on from all around us.

I sense, rather than see, Kwil and Theo, as they stick close behind me.

When I make it to the very top of the temple steps, I come to a stop to study the Fae leaders. The one that spoke first tries to lunge for me, his hands reaching out. He could probably touch me as a spirit and maybe I should be a bit more concerned about that. But I’m not. In fact, I laugh. The hands that reach for me dissolve before he closes the distance. His soul screams in agony as he falls onto his backside. He lifts his wrist to stare at where his hands had once been.

“I would suggestnottrying anything stupid.”

The one without hands screams and brings his nubs to his chest. “You’re evil! Be gone!”

Ignoring him, I turn around to face the crowd of dead Fae. Brock, Viktor, and Jonah have stayed put at the bottom of the steps. They are facing the crowd of spirits, braced for trouble. I know we have to assume Fulton is nearby for safety reasons, but I have a feeling the warlock isn’t here. He’d be too giddy to stay quiet and hide from me.

“People of Everlast, heed my warning.” I take a slow, long sweeping glance over the crowd. Everyone stares up at me. Some are not so quiet as they continue to scream, cry, babble, and beg, but I don’t need complete silence. Iwantto hear their fear.

That’s how I know our plan is working.

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