Page 102 of A Time of Witches

Talk to me. Tell me what is going on this instant.

Answer me right now because you’re totally freaking me out.

Lilith choked on a shuddering breath at the normalcy of Essie’s reply. Still the same Essie.

The same Essie who had not forgotten Lilith.

It’s not Mr. Darcy—it’s not a person, but a… Lilith hesitated then continued typing. How much time do you have?

She imagined Essie’s busy life. Play dates, meetings and dinner parties with the partners of her firm, keeping the household running while Eugene worked late hours at the police central precinct on Bull Street.

What time was it in Georgia anyway?

Before Lilith could google it, Essie had already replied.

I always have time for you.

And she did.

Lilith’s fingers tapped over the screen. This is going to sound absolutely insane.

With my life, insane is my specialty. Hit me with what you’ve got.

Lilith’s smile was a flash on her lips before fading as she did exactly as Essie asked and hit her with everything—the manor, the ghostly figures repeating that one day in history over and over, the grimoire, the spells, the way she was fading from reality.

Check your photos. Lilith texted at the end. The ones with me are disappearing.

There was a long pause and Essie replied back.

WTF? Lil…

Lilith choked back a sob. I know.

Three dots appeared and disappeared, then appeared and disappeared. The phone buzzed in Lilith’s hand and the screen lit up with a picture of Essie and Amara, faces pressed cheek to cheek as they grinned at the camera. A picture from a normal day getting Byrd’s cookies at City Market.

Lilith slid her thumb over the screen to answer the call.

“Essie?”

“You still sound the same, thank God. How the hell did you get wrapped up in this?”

Lilith gave a shaky sigh. “It’s the birthmark, this whole linking spell.”

“This is otherworldly insane, Lil.”

“Literally.” Lilith laughed as tears burned in her eyes.

“Look, you are still alive. You are still existing. And that means you can do whatever necessary to save Sybil.”

“But what if I can’t?” Lilith whispered, putting a voice to the fear tearing at her insides.

“You’ve always been a fighter,” Essie replied in a firm tone. “Like the time when we were kids and that boy with his stupid bowl haircut…”

“The one that shoved you,” Lilith finished for her, knowing this story like the back of her hand.

“Yes! That punk shoved me on the ground. You shoved him right back, and then you said…you…you said…” Her voice faltered.

An icy wash of dread poured over Lilith.