Chapter 39
My heart raced as I spun, looking after the ghost-thing that had just walked through me. That had happened, right?
I should have run in the opposite direction, but instead I crept close to the wall, then looked in through the open bay.
I could not help myself. What if Bastian was in there?
Or…his ghost. I couldn’t just leave him here, not if I could help him, speak to him, and perhaps figure out how to fix all this.
The lighting was dim, but I could see that the warehouse was filled with racks of boxes. Perhaps some kind of distribution center. I hadn’t planned to break in, just have a look around. But now?
I pulled my backpack off and removed the handgun.
I also tucked the sheathed dagger in the waistband of my pants, wishing for all the world I hadn’t lost the one Bastian had glamoured for me in the alley.
I slipped around the opening and kept to the shadows, walking along the nearest rack.
I heard voices farther into the building.
None of the boxes were labeled, and I didn’t want to make any noise by pulling them down and checking their contents.
Any one of them could have hidden the harp.
A figure appeared at the end of the aisle.
I froze, backing against the rack. There was nowhere to hide.
A male, I realized, as it grew larger. He walked with his face forward, carrying a large box.
Like the other, he didn’t even look at me.
I reached out as he passed, and my hand went right through him.
Otherwise? He looked completely solid. Real.
“What the fuck?!” I whispered. Some weird ghost shit was going on, and I was not cool with it. I crept along after it, sticking to the shadows. More of these strange ghosts appeared—or, I assumed that was what they were—moving boxes, working together as they created stacks of them.
“Eleanor Rose Kennedy. My, my.” I went rigid, heart nearly bursting in my chest. I recognized that voice. “Did you come looking for your boyfriend?”
I whirled around, coming face to face with—
“Marsh Thadur?” I lifted my handgun, pointing it at him. His eyes darted to it before finding mine again.
He smiled. “You seem surprised to see me.”
“What did you do to Bastian?” I punched the gun forward so he’d get my point.
“The same thing I did to all of them.” He lifted a shoulder as if no big deal. “Barbara!”
A woman, the one I’d seen earlier, walked over. “Take her. Cuff her to the rail over there.”
Adrenaline flooded me and I whirled toward the ghost approaching. Barbara wore the same blank look as earlier. My breaths turned shallow and I pulled the trigger on my handgun. Shots rang out and went right through Barbara’s ghost.
She came straight to me, not stopping, and pulled the gun from my hand, flinging it away. Her fingers wrapped around my wrist and dragged me through the central open area of the warehouse. I kicked at her, and my foot went right through her.
“What the fuck?!” I hissed.
It made no sense. I couldn’t touch her but she could touch me?
I tried to get free, punching her in the face with my free hand.
That went through her too. She dragged me to a set of racks and ripped my backpack free, flinging it away.
Pulling a zip tie from the tool belt at her waist, she snapped it around my wrist, tying me to the bars.
She put a second in place, just to be thorough.
I struggled against her the whole time, but nothing I tried worked.
“She’s a specter, Elle darling. You’re wasting your time.”
My head whipped around to Marsh. He walked toward us, his steps unhurried. The expression he wore was amused.
“I don’t understand,” I managed.
He laughed. “And here I was told you were an artifact aficionado. What aren’t you understanding?
The Sleeper’s Harp pulls the specters from their bodies, putting them into a deep sleep.
I control them, as the harp’s owner. They do as I say.
Anything beyond that and they are untouchable.
If whatever you try is outside the description of their job, it will have no effect whatsoever. ”
My brows pulled together.
“Think of it this way, Elle. They can touch you when I command them to. But you can’t do anything about it.”
My stomach dropped. I tested the zip tie, tugging as it cut into my wrist. My other hand was free. But there was nothing I could do without something to cut my binding.
“Don’t bother,” Marsh said, noting my movements. “In fact, how about I send someone to keep you company? Bastian!”
I sucked in a breath, my heart dropping. From the cluster of bodies hauling boxes, Bastian appeared. My mouth fell open.
“Bas?” He didn’t acknowledge me, didn’t even look at me. Instead, he walked right up to us, a blank look on his face. Everything about him was completely normal, aside from the fact that he seemed unresponsive, his expression and eyes empty.
“Guard her,” Marsh barked. “If she tries to break free, knock her unconscious.”
With that, he walked away.
Bastian walked over, took up a wide stance five feet from me, facing me, and stared off into the distance. Like I wasn’t even here.
“Bas!” I hissed, trying to get his attention. I waved my hand in front of his face, snapping my fingers. He didn’t flinch, didn’t respond. He was just out of reach, and I knew if I tried to touch him, my hand would go right through.
“Marsh’s gone,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Help me get this zip tie off.” Bastian still didn’t move, looking through me.
“Bas, please! It’s me! Your mate. Remember?” I pulled at the zip tie while I said this, trying to put enough force behind my movements that it might snap.
“Stop doing that.” His voice was a low command, eyes flicking to the motion I made as I pulled. When I stopped, his gaze went distant again. The back of my neck prickled. This wasn’t Bastian. Marsh was right. Whatever fell within his orders was all he was programmed for.
I deflated and leaned against the shelving rack, studying the rest of the activity taking place. Minutes ticked by, and boxes were carried out. A roar of an engine sounded as a semi-truck pulled up. The back was opened, and the boxes were loaded.
How much time had passed? Had it been two hours yet? I thought of my instructions to Vivi. Soon, she’d be calling Christian. The cops would come and this whole mess would be sorted.
Hopefully.
The semi left and Marsh appeared, walking toward the open space in the middle of the warehouse.
“Bastian, remove the zip tie and bring her here.”
I glanced between them, then saw what Marsh held.
My heart leapt. The harp! He held it casually, like it was little more than a regular object and not some ancient thing of power.
I was vaguely aware of the zip tie snapping with magic—Bastian must have retained his magical abilities in this form—and a hand wrapping around my wrist. He didn’t pull me the way Barbara had.
“Come,” he said, when I hesitated. There was something gentle in his voice. Was… Was part of him still in there? Fighting?
I licked my lips, but complied. He led me to Marsh. My eyes zeroed in on the harp in his hands. If I could just get it, could I find a way to reverse this?
Marsh chuckled. “It’s rather a work of art, wouldn’t you agree?” He asked, as if reading my mind.
“How does it work?” I found myself asking, curious, yes, but also eager to distract him.
“Ah, I thought you’d want to know. The trick is in the strings.
There are twelve total. The first five, put a person to sleep, depending on what type of supernatural they are.
You must be within hearing distance when the chord is struck.
So, you see, it was rather annoying, but I managed to sneak onto Bastian’s back patio yesterday.
He has quite the security system, but alas, it isn’t soundproof. ”
My muscles tightened.
“Oh, don’t worry. It won’t work on you. It doesn’t work on humans, unfortunately.”
I cleared my throat. “What… What do the other strings do?”
“Ah. The next set of five pulls the specter from the body. The last two are…” He hesitated, contemplating, then said with a shrug, “simply ornamental.”
I snorted. “You don’t expect me to believe that do you? Like, what about waking up the bodies? Controlling them?”
He grinned. “Now, why would I tell you that?”
I rolled my eyes, trying to appear nonchalant. “Because you’re probably just going to kill me?”
“True. Very well. As far as commands, if you’re the one to wield the harp and summon the specter, they follow your commands automatically. The eleventh freezes them in place. And to put them back in their bodies? Simply stroke the twelfth.” He shrugged.
I tutted. “I thought it would be more complex than that. Seems kinda underwhelming.”
He barked a laugh. “Yes, it does, doesn’t it? Anyway, I have places to be, and unfortunately, I don’t wish to spare any of my specters to guard you. Unfortunate casualty, I’m afraid. Bastian? Kill her.”
“What?” I cried. “No.”
I jerked against Bastian’s grasp. A knife appeared in his free hand. He lifted it.
“Bas, no!”
I knew that if this happened, if he killed me and lived afterward, he would never forgive himself. It would ruin him. I pulled, trying to put distance between us.
The hold on my wrist disappeared and I staggered backward.
“Kill her!” Marsh barked.
I backed up. My foot caught on something and I slipped, arms flailing before landing hard on my ass.
Bastian bore down on me, his knife raised.
He lunged forward. The knife swung wide, slamming into the cement.
I couldn’t be positive, but I knew Bastian’s aim was perfect, so he must have intentionally missed.
A small, low growl escaped his lips as he grabbed me again, taking aim.
“Bastian, please don’t do this,” I implored, needing him to snap out of it. What else could I say? “Bas, please. I’m not mad at you anymore. We can be together. I… I love you.”
He froze, blinking down at me. Something flashed across his face.
“How are you doing that?” Marsh barked. “Stop it. Bastian, follow your orders.” Bastian didn’t move. He just stood there, blinking down at me.
Seeing me.
“You can’t control him,” Marsh hissed, anger creeping into his voice. “Never mind. Barbara, kill her.”
My breath caught. I scrambled to my feet and moved toward Bastian. He stepped back, coming upright. His blade disappeared, but he didn’t move.
Barbara walked toward me, carrying a long blade. “Bas?” I glanced toward him, but he didn’t move.
“If you think he’ll protect you, you’re mistaken. The magic of the harp will not allow him to do anything beyond his orders.”
“Well, I managed to get him to stop, didn’t I?” I spat. “And maybe if you weren’t such a coward, you’d kill me yourself instead of making a bunch of specters do your dirty work.”
Barbara lunged toward me. I dodged. She came at me again. I’d never imagined fighting someone I couldn’t actually connect with. She moved with inhuman speed. When I focused on her, breaking through her glamor, I noticed her fae ears.
“Fuck,” I muttered. I was up against a fae specter with magic. I didn’t stand a chance.
Dodging another thrust, my foot connected with a box and I stumbled.
A hand fisted the back of my T-shirt and I was pulled backwards.
White hot pain pierced me through my lower back, into my abdomen.
I looked down in time to see the tip of Barbara’s blade protruding from my front.
I blinked, then screamed as the white-hot pain flooded my system.
The blade retreated and I crumbled to the floor, gasping.
Blood spilled from my body. I gazed at it, wide-eyed. Every muscle began trembling.
“No!” A voice roared, laced with anguish. Bastian’s voice.
I whimpered, turning to face him, my eyes locked on him. He stood rooted in place, chest heaving, watching me, his face screwed up with pain. His expression was more present than I’d seen so far.
“Bas,” I breathed. Heat spread around the wound, tingling. Perhaps I was numb with pain. Or perhaps…
A wild notion took hold. But there wasn’t time to contemplate it. Barbara was bearing down at me, blade poised for the killing blow—
“Hands where we can see them!” The loud command split the silence of the impending moment.
“Hands in the air! Move. Move. Move!” Voices erupted, shouting commands that echoed through the warehouse.
I had just enough time to roll away as Barbara’s blade came down on me.
The pain from the movement made me scream, but I rolled three times to get far enough away from her that I’d be safe.
Then I blinked, my eyes darting around. The crash of several doors sounded next, being kicked in.
People poured into the warehouse in vests, guns drawn, the letters S.W.A.T written on their backs.
Marsh swore, glancing around. More and more bodies filed in, quickly outnumbering the number of specters gathered around Marsh. He lifted his arms, summoning shadows around him, his fae magic. My eyes widened.
Gunshots split the air. The harp clattered to the ground. I gasped, then glanced down at my abdomen, my brows pulling together. My shirt was ripped and covered with blood, but the wound wasn’t weeping.
Lurching into motion, I scrambled across the floor, speed-crawling toward the harp. No one else seemed to notice. The shots stopped and the shadows cleared. Marsh lay on the ground, chest heaving. He was fae, after all, so the gunshots wouldn’t kill him, but they would keep him down.
I snatched the harp.
Everything was chaotic. I didn’t know if it would work, didn’t know if Marsh had to be the one to do it, or if anyone could pluck the strings.
He lay there blinking. I took hold of his wrist, dragging his fingers across the twelfth string.
He hissed and snatched his hand away. The specters filling the warehouse vanished.