Raven #2
Winter jerked back, surprise rippling through all his features. His eyes widened―clear blue moons in a sea of shadow.
“You stepped right out of the wall.”
I should have found the shock in his expression concerning, but something about his unguarded reaction tickled me. In the short time I’d known him, I couldn’t recall having seen him emotionally exposed.
I patted the side of his face and smirked. “I’m right here, silly. And I didn’t walk through any walls.”
Our eyes met and—
My expression fell flat. Then I yanked my hand back. I’d been foolish to touch him in such a personal way. For a brief moment, I had forgotten I was mad at him.
“There’s nothing here,” I said, turning toward the invisible wall he professed existed. “See?”
I shoved my hand forward, assuming my arm cut through the supposed wall. A cocoon of heat instantly encased my hand.
He gasped.
I grabbed his hand and pulled him forward. “Come on.”
Moving two steps with ease, we stretched our arms wide, and then his body jolted to a stop. His face flattened, as if smashed against a hard surface.
A knot formed in my chest. Something stood between us. Something unseen that I could step past, but he could not. And the air beyond that invisible barrier felt hotter, more suffocating.
He released my hand and backed up several steps. My entire body grew heavy as I returned to his side of the invisible barrier. This time, his coolness failed to soothe me. The fervor within me and my inner fire had been stoked, and it now fought to eclipse Winter’s rejuvenating current.
He nodded to a light alcove notched into the wall. I followed him several steps into the deeper shadows cloaking the space, and my foot scraped against something.
Thoughts of dead critters filled my imagination, causing me to shiver.
Winter stared at the path beyond. The path I could walk, but where he saw—and had hit—a wall.
“I’m sorry, Raven, but I won’t be going that way. And I don’t think you should either. Definitely not alone.”
He could have all the feelings he wanted to about the situation.
They didn’t change the fact that I felt the urge, a center pull, to follow the sweltering path.
I was something he would likely never understand, and I had a job to do.
That job, that purpose, could be the reason for my ability to pass through something that held him back.
My reaper blood clearly tugged me forward.
“I hear what you’re saying and understand your concern.” I bit my lip and steeled myself for his likely reaction to what I planned to say next. “But I really feel like that’s the direction I need to go.”
His eyes narrowed, and I held his gaze, unwilling to back down. He opened his mouth to respond.
Clicking and clacking bounced through the tunnel. Traveling toward us from an origin unseen.
I shuddered, and Winter clamped his mouth shut. We both stared in the direction of the sound. Toward the darkness of the tunnel where he couldn’t go.
Over a week, possibly two or more, had passed since I’d heard that click and clack, but I doubted I would ever forget the marriage of source and sound…or the terror that first visual had sliced through me.
“Are those…?” I didn’t know how to finish the question.
I couldn’t recall if we had actually discussed the specters and if he’d had a different name for them.
Winter took the torch from me and tossed it, along with his own, down the tunnel.
One dropped near the last junction, brightening the chalk arrow he’d drawn upon the wall, and the other landed only a few feet away.
Both torches continued to burn. The closer torch provided enough light for us to see by, but not enough to highlight our presence to anyone else… hopefully.
“Yes. Stay still and quiet.” His words sounded clipped as he pushed me backward.
I hit the wall of the alcove, and he stepped in front of me, shielding my body with his own. My every breath brushed against his chest, his shoulder.
“But what of you?” I asked.
This was not the ideal place to hide should we need to turn and run.
“I should be fine. We both should. They usually ignore me. Avoid me, even.”
He likely meant the comment to reassure me, but it only created more questions. Why would demons drawn to everyone else want to avoid him?
He shifted, the movement drawing my gaze to his face. Light from the nearest flame torch danced across his features. Features etched with discomfort. A thin line of beaded sweat crowned his brow. I suspected neither reaction came from my physical nearness, but…
My eyes widened.
My heat. The heat I’d experienced rising around me, within me, since I’d stepped onto the path beyond the invisible barrier. Was it harmful to his cooling magic?
Click, click, clack.
The sounds drew nearer, and I sucked in a breath, holding it firmly within my chest.
Stay quiet, he’d said.
I didn’t want even the gentle rasp of my breath to give me away.
I laid a hand upon his upper arm and pressed the other to his chest, tilted my face into his shoulder. He felt warm. Warmer than I expected him to feel after his little disclosure regarding bodily self-cooling.
Clack. Click-click-click-clack.
I peered over his shoulder. Three black-shrouded specters slipped into view, gliding as if rolling upon a ghostly wind, heading toward the rock wall―or invisible barrier.
They moved closer and closer. Moved past the point of the invisible barrier. Moved up to and past me and Winter’s position in the alcove.
I swallowed hard.
Click. Clack-clack.
They stopped in unison.
I strangled the scream building in my throat. A scream of irritation and outrage, a tinge of fear. These things shouldn’t exist. They shouldn’t be here. And they definitely shouldn’t be bothering me…or Winter.
“It will be fine,” Winter said quietly through gritted teeth. However, the hint of panic that flashed in his eyes for a split second suggested he didn’t believe his spoken words. “Just stay quiet and give them a moment.”
Lines of sweat dribbled down Winter’s temples.
I stared at the glisten upon his body. Why was he perspiring? He’d said he self-cooled.
Again, as if connected by one singular brain, the specters turned in unison toward our hiding place. My muscles tensed.
They slid forward, clicking and clacking.
A long sliver of an arm reached forward from the cluster of three. Its black, spindly fingers wiggled, tasting the air, moving dangerously close to Winter.
“This isn’t working,” I whispered. “We need to run.”
Winter dipped his head, his gaze meeting mine. He nodded.
Yeah. We needed to make a break for it, and fast.
Before we could shift a single inch, those spindly fingers dropped over his shoulders and clutched firmly.
His entire body arched, his face contorting with agony, as his scream reverberated through the stone passage.
I seized a tight hold on Winter and attempted to yank him free of the specter’s grasp. “No!”