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She’d been knocked unconscious. Her body eerily still and lifeless.
“No.” I wasn’t losing her. Not this time.
I dropped to my knees beside my sister, tossing wood and books from the fallen shelves as I excavated her body. It felt like it took me forever to free her, the air growing thicker with smoke, the heat of the flames inching ever closer to where I curled protectively over her.
“Come on, Winnie. Time to go.” The childhood nickname slipped out. I hadn’t called her that in years, not since I’d learned how to properly pronounce my Rs and Ls.
She softly moaned, the sound sending hope through me. She was alive. I could save her.
Scooping her into my arms, I stood and turned toward the escape but stopped as a hooded figure came into view just beyond the open door. The robe and scythe needed no introduction. I knew exactly who this was.
Death.
Here to claim my sister.
“You can’t have her.”
Soft, ghostly laughter floated through the room as pale hands reached out from the long arms of the robe, rising to pull back the hood.
I steeled myself, expecting all manner of grisly visages. But not one of them came close to the truth of what was hidden beneath those black folds.
A woman. A beautiful one with long curling blonde hair. Bright guileless blue eyes. A smattering of freckles dotting her cheeks. As I stared at her, her lips twisted up in a smile that chilled me to the bone. It was the most terrifying thing I’d ever seen. There was no reason a woman who looked like she belonged in a primary school should be able to make me feel this way with a simple lift of her brow.
I followed her gaze as she glanced to the ceiling.
“Time’s up, Noah,” she said, a breath before the stone above me collapsed into the room, crushing me with hot rubble.
A wall of flame engulfed me, and the last thing I heard was Rosie’s agonized scream of my name before the world went blissfully dark.
“Noah, please, save her!” My father crouched next to Mother’s too-still form, agony on his face. “She needs you. Don’t let her die.”
Confusion swirled in me as I glanced around, finding myself once again standing out on the lawn, watching my house go down in flames.
“But I...”
A twitch of shadow pulled my focus. A black-robed figure was walking across the yard, heading toward the house. As I watched, it stopped, turned its head, and looked at me before disappearing inside.
Death was beckoning.
I was a slave to answer her call again and again.
“Rosie!”
ChapterForty
KINGSTON
“Happy birthday, Pooh Bear!” Mama beamed at me as she brought the cake in from the kitchen. “Twenty-five. I can’t believe it.” Her eyes shone with tears as she looked at me. “You were so small I could hold you—”
“Diana, leave him be,” my father barked. “He’s a grown man. He doesn’t need you to remind his wife how frail he used to be.”
Sunday laughed, lifting our daughter higher in her arms as she leaned over to press a kiss to my cheek. “Trust me, there’s nothing frail about him now.” She took my free hand and held it to her swollen belly. “Him or his minions.”
I looked at every person seated at our huge dining table. Mama and Dad, the triplets, Trouble, even Doc and my cousin Dylan. Thorne, Alek, and Caleb sat on the same side as Sunday and me, all of us considered family now.
“Dill pickle? Would you be a lamb and go get me the cake knife? I left it on the counter.” Mama smiled sweetly at Dylan.
“Of course, Mama D. Be right back.”
