Page 106 of Bound By Fury

“Universe, we come to you today, open and willing to communicate with those who are in between.” She sounds strong as she demands that the spirit world listen. Beside me, Sam’s grip tightens.

“Friends, tonight we will open our minds to the other side, allow our bodies to be vessels for the messengers who seek to claim them—”

“Wait, wait, wait, ¿me estás jodiendo? I never agreed to be no damn vessel!” Sam pulls their hands away and stands, muttering, “Demasiada gente loca aquí,” as they yank at the ends of their hair.

“Sam, sit down!” Missy barks.

More reasonably, Daisy says, “Sammy, it’s chill, I promise. This isn’t my first time doing this, and I’m okay, right? You’ll be fine, I swear.”

My eyes dart between Sam and Daisy and Missy.

The tension in the air is unmistakable, vibrating over my skin.

But Daisy seems impossibly calm. Almost serene. Like this is a thing that belongs to her. She claims that her tarot reading wasn’t right, but that hasn’t stopped me from thinking about it—wondering about the way she always seems to know things, how she found the key in Alastair’s office without even trying. It hasn’t stopped me from considering if maybe—if I have my own kind of power—is it possible that she has some too?

“Sam, it’s okay.” I give them what I hope is a reassuring look, even though my insides are undulating like a ship in a storm.

Reluctantly, they settle back into their spot and put their hand in mine.

Daisy’s shoulders relax, a soft smile playing across her lips. “Okay, let’s start over.”

Once again we link our pinkies. Daisy makes her call to the universe. We sit, connected, not only to one another but to whatever lies beyond the earthly plane.

“Fiona,” Daisy says, and Missy’s hand, damp with sweat, tightens on my own. “If you can hear us, we’re here to support you, to help you, to listen to you. Please, what do you need? Use us, use this board to tell your story.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, like I should be able to hear her speak. Like I should be able to see her here with us, even though we’ve never met.

Daisy releases our hands and meets our eyes. “Okay, now that we’ve stated our intentions, we must place our hands on the planchette.”

I hold my breath. When our fingers graze the smooth wood of the heart-shaped piece, gooseflesh puckers over my arms. Sam’s gone pale, Missy’s usually perfect nails are chipped and bitten. When I look at her face, she averts her gaze.

Daisy gives us an encouraging smile. “Close your eyes,” she instructs, her tone taking on a new reverence. “Imagine Fiona here with us.” She bows her head. “Fiona, speak to us…”

My neck tingles with anticipation, my skin aware of every slight draft from the window, my ears straining to hear the whispering dark.

I suck in a breath. The planchette wiggles beneath our fingers.

“Whoa.” I can’t hide my shock.

“What the fuck!” Missy’s arms jerk.

Sam whimpers.

The piece begins to move in fits and starts, crossing the board like it’s thinking about it.

Yes.

“Daisy!” Sam cries. “Stop fucking with us!”

A tear weaves down Missy’s pale cheek.

Daisy’s face is luminous, her eyes unblinking as she stares at the board. “I-I’m not. I didn’t move it.”

They all look at me.

“What? I didn’t fucking do it!”

“Okay,” Daisy says, steady despite the wildness in her eyes. “We need to keep asking questions! We must stay connected!”