Page 117 of Bound By the Sleeper’s Harp

“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.