Page 60 of Kiss Slay Replay

I turn around to see if he’s still there—the Top Hat phantom with the red eyes.

“I’m calling,” Danny says, letting go of my hand so he can dial. But before he can complete the call, a raven dives down and pecks at him. He fumbles his phone. “Ah!”

He presses his hand to his chest. There’s a wide gash beneath his knuckles, blood everywhere. Seconds, that’s all it takes. Seconds. His shirt is soaked. He’s pale and dripping.

“Here.” I drop my bag, rip along the hem of my dress, tie the strip of fabric tight around his injured hand. He winces. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. Thanks. Thank you, Willa.” He looks at me, and there’s an affection that wasn’t there moments ago. It’s the shift. The transformation from a live in the present, not looking for anything serious type to a if we survive this, I swear I’ll change my ways type. He’s looking at me now like I’m his lifeline. I recognize the desperation from my own reflection.

I know I can’t save him. I know he can’t save me. But hope is a highly addictive substance.

“What do we do?” he asks.

“Um…” I spent the entire day either dismissing my nightmare experience or anticipating a different adversary. I have no fucking idea what to do. I’m not even sure if this is real or a dream within a dream or if I’m having a complete psychotic meltdown. “I don’t think we should do anything. I think we should just see what happens.”

“We should…Hold on. What? Do nothing?” He runs his uninjured hand through his hair. “Shit.”

The doors of the reception hall open, and Wyatt steps out. His suit jacket and tie are both off, his shirt unbuttoned to reveal his glorious forest of chest hair. His cheeks are red, and I can see his pit stains from here. Like Jace, Wyatt is a fully committed dancer.

The ravens perch on the awning over the door. Wyatt can’t see them yet.

He turns around, talking to someone inside.

“Not sure,” he says. “Around back, maybe?”

“I would think there’d be a generator.” It’s Ravi. He appears beside Wyatt. His foot hits the first step.

“Stop!” I yell. “Don’t! Don’t move.”

“Willa?” Ravi looks at me. He finally looks at me. Then at Danny. Then back at me. I forgot to check the mirror; I probably look crazy. It’s probably obvious what I’ve been up to. Ravi inhales sharply and nods. Does he know? Can he tell?

In studying his reaction, I’ve deserted the urgency of the situation, wasted my opportunity to explain what’s happening. To warn them.

Ravi and Wyatt step down onto the lawn. A raven lands in front of them, spreads it wings and caws.

“What the…” Ravi recoils.

“Is that a raven?” Wyatt asks.

“Go inside!” I scream. “Listen to me! Please! Go!”

“Shit,” Danny mumbles. He’s already bled through my makeshift bandage.

Another raven caws, and it spins Ravi right around. He stares up at the awning, at the roof, at the hundreds of other birds.

“Ah. Willa,” Danny says. “This is bad, right?”

He reaches out his hand, peeling back the blood-soaked fabric. The wound is bubbling, now sooty black. It’s spreading up his arm in a dark, feather-like pattern.

“My car keys are at the cabin.” I try to keep my voice steady, maintain my composure, not let on how horrified I am by the state of his injury. “I’m going to run and get them, and then I’m going to drive you to the nearest hospital, all right?”

“I’m coming with you,” he says, tucking his hand into his suit jacket. “You shouldn’t go alone.”

“Yeah, okay.” I look over to where Ravi stands perfectly still, Wyatt behind him inching back toward the steps of the reception hall. I’m afraid if I yell, it’ll spook the birds. “Ravi. Go inside. Please. You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

He’s not listening to me. He’s staring at the birds, attempting to make sense of something that doesn’t make sense. I know him. He’s preoccupied trying to assign logic. Transfixed.

“Wyatt,” I say. “Inside!”