Page 80 of Eyes of the Grave


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“What are you doing here?” I demanded.

His lips pressed into a thin line, trying not to laugh. “Do you really have to ask?”

“I told her not to tell you.”

“She’s worried about you.” He shrugged. “So, am I.”

I turned the cuff around my wrist. “I just…I didn’t want to get your hopes up.”

“I appreciate that, but I’d rather help. I’ve slept too much as it is, anyway.” He walked across the floor and crouched in front of me. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“My great grandmother ran from the world after she had her baby. She couldn’t take it. But I want a life with you, Jack. I don’t want to run away. I don’t want to cut myself off from the world. I just want to be with you, toloveyou.”

He shifted his legs under him, mimicking my posture. “Alright then. Let’s meditate.”

“Jack, I—”

He waved a dismissive hand and straightened his spine. “Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Picture yourself standing in a field.”

I opened my mouth to protest and then closed it again with a growl. Jackson was the king of stubborn. There’d be no arguing with him. Closing my eyes, I inhaled an exaggerated breath and exhaled, picturing myself standing in the meadow outside my parents’ cabin. I could see the purple and yellow flowers blooming all around me. I could feel the heat on my skin. It felt as real as the annex stones beneath me.

“Okay,” I whispered.

“Now, look to the sky and feel the snowflakes fall. Each one sinking into your skin, washing away the hectic energy inside your mind. Take another deep breath and watch the snow cover the ground beneath you. Watch it build and build into a blanket, like white paint, blotting out all your concerns.”

I nodded and watched his words become a reality in my mind. Except there was something else in the field. A shadow blurred by the falling snow. I tried to squint and define the edges, but the more I concentrated, the harder it was to see. I tried to get closer, channeling my will forward, magic humming around the corners of my eyes. The ground shifted beneath me. The shadow darkened as I grew close, and then part of it fell, splitting into two.

My vision raced forward, and the fallen shadow became a body lying at my feet, its blood staining the white ground. The other half turned and walked away. I tried to reach for it, but my legs were frozen, and the figure at my feet demanded attention. My eyes fell, and my heart leapt into my throat. Myra’s lips stretched wide in a silent scream. Myra.

“Holy shit!” I gasped, opening my eyes into the real world.

“What? What’s wrong?” Jackson asked, grabbing my knee.

I flinched instinctively. “She didn’t want to know, but it’s still there. It’s in my head.”

“What is?”

“Myra,” I said, staring at the bricks between our knees. “She’s going to die if she stays here. We need to send her away. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to worry. We’re going to change it. I won’t let anything happen to her. I promise.”

The room temperature dropped. “What did you see?”

I told him, the words tumbling from my lips like knives. Sharp and unwelcome, they drained the color from his face. His fingers trembled on my knee, and he sat back.

“Damn,” he exhaled. “I’ll talk to Tate.”

“I won’t let the shifter kill her, Jack. I hope you—”

“I know,” he said. “I won’t let it happen either. For now, let’s focus on your meditation. The slow approach obviously isn’t gonna work.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

He shrugged. “I want to.”

“We should both go to bed,” I said. “This was a stupid idea, anyway. I’m gonna need my magic when we finally face this shifter. This…this can wait.”

“You clearly thought it was important enough to sneak down here and try earlier. What’s changed?” His fingers brushed my knee again.

“I’m scar—wait!” I looked down. I was wearing shorts. “You’re touching me!”

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