“You were dying, but I gave you a new life,” she said in an excited tone.
“Am I dead?”
“No. To make a wili, the woman needs to be between life and death.” She held up her palms, and white light spread out of them.
I bolted up. “What is that?”
“I have the power to save women from the brink of death. Women who were betrayed by a man they trusted and who want revenge.” Myrtha sat on the edge of the bed in a swish of silk. “You’re a wili, a wraith of vengeance with incredible powers and an immortal life.”
That wasn’t possible…but I should be dead; the white light coming out of Myrtha was supernatural, and I’d always possessed a supernatural ability, too.
I swallowed. “I won’t die?”
“I’m almost two hundred and fifty years old.” She blushed, which made her look more human. Something dark shot through her aura.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I waved around her head. “I can detect your feelings and see your aura. It changed.” I saw no reason not to tell her about my ability.
Her lips parted. “You’re a soul searcher! How fascinating. I suppose that is the reason why I sensed your desperation so intensely. Because you possess a supernatural ability.”
Soul searcher sounded more sophisticated than what people had called me.
“I’ve always been cursed.” My throat tightened as thoughts of Papa made my heart ache.
“That’s a gift.”
I stared at her, not sure what to say to an immortal spirit of vengeance.
She cleared her throat and pointed at the escritoire. “You’ll find papers and pens over there. I need you to write down everything you remember about Mr. Lewis. Your memories of recent events prior to your transformation will be confused for a while, so it’s important that you take note of everything you remember each day.” Her aura was in turmoil. She was avoiding answering me on purpose.
“Tell me the truth about my immortality.”
She lowered her gaze. “To keep your immortality and your powers, you must kill at least one man every year, or you’ll fade and die.”
A breath rushed out of me. “I don’t want to kill anyone.”
“Not even Mr. Lewis?” Her halo became more solid. “He deserves to die. And once you exact your revenge, your powers will grow further.”
I stared at my hands. Aside from the surprising lack of pain, I didn’t feel different, but my skin had a translucent quality it hadn’t had before. The tiny scar I had on my hand from burning myself with a candle had disappeared along with sunspots, areas of uneven texture, and other small imperfections.
The price of my immortality was a man’s life. More than one. What would Papa or Mama have said?
“I can’t do this.” I shook my head. “I can’t kill.”
“I’m not asking to kill good men.” She tilted her head right and left. “There are so few anyway, you would have better luck spotting a dragon.”
“Are dragons real?” I cut her off.
She lifted a shoulder. “I think so. But I’ve never seen one, which is a shame.”
I was about to ask her more questions about the dragons, but she continued.
“You’ll kill men like Mr. Lewis, men who beat, cheat, and force themselves on women. The world won’t miss them.”
“I’m not an executioner.”
“You’ll be one with practice.”
No, no, no. The whole situation was an absurd dream.
