Page 166 of Echoes of the Banshee

“I don’t know. When I died, I lost him,” I whisper, the words almost breaking me. But once I start, it all pours out. “I can’t keep doing this, B. I can’t keep pretending like I have everything under control when I don’t.” I look down at the brand on my wrist. “I’ve been through hell, literally. Lazlo is or was my mate. He was everything to me. But… I lost him. I messed up the timeline, I’ve already lived this life, and this didn’t happen. You’re here because of me. The cuff is draining you, and I don’t know how much longer you have before… before it’s too late. I don’t know if I can fix this, or if there’s even a way to stop it. I don’t know how much time we’ve lost already.”

A lump forms in my throat as I grab the nail, trying to focus on it, anything to keep my mind from spiraling. I’m thankful Grunt broke my left arm, because it would be impossible to use the nail. B is quiet for a long time. The silence presses in, thick and suffocating. I wonder if I said too much. Finally, B speaks, his voice soft and full of concern.

“How, how long until you die?”

“Couple months. I’m not sure,” I tell him. “I was taken over Christmas break, and it was late spring or summer when I die.”

“I—that’s a lot,” he says. “I don’t know much about time travel, but I do know this… us being here, it isn’t your fault.”

“How could it not be?” I retort, the tension rising in my chest. “They’re trying to scare me off goblins because of the incident in the dining hall.”

“You think this was Anita?” he asks.

“Who do you think kills me?” I snap, anger rising as I finally let myself feel everything. “She wants my magic and has been throwing spaghetti at the wall, seeing what sticks. She’s tried manipulating Zair, tried cursing you, now she’s kidnapping me to make me rush back to her. If I hadn’t asked you to walk me home, you’d be in your dorm or hanging out with Zair and Dylan.”

My chest rises and falls with my rage.

“Honestly, her being the one to kill you is the most believable part of this whole situation.” B’s eyes narrow slightly. “Have you told Zair?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“You have to tell him. He’d help you. He’d do anything for you.”

I hesitate, chewing on my bottom lip.

“I really like Zair. Too much,” I admit aloud. The truth of it scares me more than it shocks me.

“Then why won’t you date him?” he asks.

“Lazlo gave up his life for me. I—I can’t do anything until I find him.” I drop my gaze to my hands. “I’m terrified that if Zair knew everything… he’d leave too.” The words slip out before I can stop them. “Zair wants more, I know that. I try not to lead him on. Maybe it’s selfish, maybe even cruel to keep him close when I know I can’t give him the kind of love he deserves. But—”

“—It’s not,” B says, cutting through my spiral. “For what it’s worth, I think Zair would stick around.”

“But if I don’t fix this… and I die again…” I trail off, the words heavier than I mean them to be. “There’s no way forward that doesn’t hurt him. It would be better for him if we weren’t friends, but I can’t stop.”

“If Lazlo loved you enough to give up his life for you, he’d want you to live it, not waste it waiting for him. Especially if you only have a few months.”

Meeting his eyes, I exhale slowly.

“Meeting you guys… it’s been the best thing to happen to me since I came back,” I tell him honestly. “If I let myself love Zair, I’ll be betraying Lazlo. But… I think I already have.”

B’s energy seems to wane, each breath shallow and strained. The spark of magic within him looks like it’s flickering, struggling to stay alive. He’s caught up in this mess because of me, and now he’s paying the price for my mistakes. I feel the tears on my cheeks, the first ones since this whole ordeal began. But they aren’t because of the pain, they’re because I realized that I might die alone this time.

Or worse, that I might take them with me.

Thea

Are You Scared of Witches? Because I Am

The nail isn’t working. It’s too brittle. B is growing weaker by the second. He doesn’t have long left. I need to be stronger, for both of us. B’s shallow breathing surrounds me as I stand and knock deliberately on the door. After a few moments, it slides open.

“Yes, Miss?” a blonde goblin asks.

“Take us to Grunt,” I demand.

“Grunt?”

“Would you rather I said, ‘take me to your leader’?” I reply with a smirk that would probably be more convincing if I didn’t have a black eye and a fat lip.