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Sammy gasped with huge eyes. “He wanted to kill you?”
“No. No.” I waved my hand dismissingly. “Don’t worry about that.”
The last thing we needed was to talk about things that Sammy probably wouldn’t understand, because as all ghosts did—except for Kipp, as well as Alexander who had magical assistance—they only knew what they needed to, to cross over. His past with Jacob caused his death. That was the only reason he knew of it now.
I rubbed my temple to ease the throb, and then I shook my head, mystified at how it all came together neatly. Wayde had killed Alexander because of his interest in me. He didn’t want me showing up at the house, since he must’ve sensed Sammy around him. He tried to keep his secret in the dark.
However, even knowing all this, a big problem to this theory developed that I couldn’t push away. “From what I know of Wayde, he has the power to force a ghost into the Netherworld. I’ve seen him try to do it.” With Alexander, in fact. “So, why didn’t he do it with you?”
Sammy gave a dry laugh. “He’s tried, many times over the years. So many spells I lost count after the fortieth time. But it never worked.” He paused, and then shrugged. “I don’t know why.”
I wondered if it had something to do with the fact that Wayde had killed him. Was Sammy bound to Wayde in a way because of that murder and it was something that Wayde couldn’t break?
Something to ask Gretchen later—if we all made it out of this, of course—but I knew I couldn’t waste more time with these questions, especially considering a sudden flicker of light surrounded Sammy’s head.
A light that only meant one thing—Sammy had cleansed his soul. “Do you know where Wayde is now?”
He shook his head, glancing around the basement in a quick sweep, and finally looked to me with wide eyes. “What’s happening?”
I cursed when the white light around him intensified and his body shimmered. Clearly, all Sammy needed to do to settle his soul was tell his story. Let someone know what happened to him, who Wayde really was, and get the truth told.
Now, his soul became free of the pain holding him back, and soon, he’d be gone.
Normally, it pleased me when a ghost crossed over, but I needed Sammy. He was the only other one conscious. I needed him to search this house and find out if Wayde was hidden somewhere.
I was too frightened to move, considering magic engulfed this house. If I left the basement, would I kill everyone here? Would the spell kill me? With no answers and only guesses, it wasn’t a chance I could take.
“Sammy,” I screamed. “Do you know where Wayde is now?”
His lips parted and he shouted something at me, and once again, I was surrounded by a dead silence. The light around his body flickered and he faded fast. First his hands, then his legs…but I focused on his mouth and tried to make out his words.
“Dammit.” I pushed off the cement floor and jumped to my feet. “I can’t hear you.”
A sudden blast of wind rushed into the basement and with a bright flash of white light, Sammy had vanished. All that remained was the musky scent of the basement and that horrible putrid aroma that I now suspected belonged to Sammy’s bones and the dried blood.
I glanced around at the sleeping bodies around me—bodies who presently didn’t wake the hell up—and I breathed deep…once…twice…three times…
“Fuck,” I exhaled, feeling utterly defeated. “Now what?
Chapter Eleven
Time had passed. How much time, I had no idea. There weren’t any windows in the basement, and the only light came from Zach’s flashlight hanging from the ceiling. I had the sense I’d been down there for a while, or a few hours, at least. I thought of running to get help for what seemed like an hour, yet fear glued me to the spot on the cold cement floor.
How stupid was that?
There I sat, awaiting a possible death, and not doing anything about it.
However, without knowing the consequences from the magic, I couldn’t chance leaving the basement. So, I waited, and hoped everyone would soon wake up. I was almost afraid to breathe, in fear that any movement on my part would make something happen.
What that something was exactly, I had no idea, which is why I didn’t move, not when the people I loved deeply were under the spell. And definitely not when I couldn’t anticipate what would happen if I acted.
I’d spent at least another hour yelling at Gretchen and Dane, trying to wake them up. They would be able to understand the magic I could sure-as-shit feel in the room, which was almost like a flutter of electricity. Whatever had been used before to hide the magic hadn’t been masked now. The charge pulsating in the musky air made the hair on my arms stand up.
After my effort to wake up Dane and Gretchen failed, I had gathered the bravery to crawl over to shake them both, but everyone remained fast asleep. Part of me now believed that Nettie’s involvement woke me up, because why was I the only one awake and for so long? If Wayde had wanted to kill any of us, he could’ve done it hours ago.
My headache still throbbed in the back and front of my skull. My eyeballs continued to ache like they were going to pop out of my head, and even my neck muscles were strained. Now, though, I suspected the increase in pain was all panic related, as my current mental state wasn’t what I’d call up to par.
On a deep swallow to fight off my anxiety, I glanced around at the others—my family—who looked so peaceful in sleep. The bodies lay spread out, breathing heavily with soft snores filling the basement.
