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We walk into the room, and Rachel gets up.
“I’ve been asked to leave,” she tells us. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”
She leaves the room, and Oscar lets go of my hand.
Everett growls. My stomach churns. This is it. I can’t believe this is it.
Goddess, give me strength. I’m going to need it.
Chapter Seventy-Two
Oscar
Nervouslaughterbubblesupwhen the witch turns to me. I try to keep it from erupting out of my mouth, but it escapes anyway. I can’t believe this is actually fucking happening. It doesn’t feel real. It’s like a joke. A bad one, that doesn’t have a punchline.
“I’ve been told you might have been possessed,” she says.
“Possessed?” I ask, wondering what I’m missing here.
“A spirit’s been in contact with you, correct?”
“I guess,” I tell her, realizing she’s talking about Bianca.
“And you’ve been blacking out when you shift forms?”
“Yeah, I blackout when I shift.”
“Your mate has compelled me to check you for signs of a recent possession. Considering it would alter the outcome of this case, it would be remiss of me to ignore that plea.”
Holy fucking shit. I blink at her. “I could have been possessed when I killed that girl.”
She nods. “It’s a possibility. It needs to be confirmed or ruled out.”
It would explain my wolf’s seemingly random and sudden need to take a life.
“Possession by someone who’s dead?” I ask, hoping she’s not talking about anything more demonic than that. I start to wonder if I pissed Bianca off enough to have her decide to fuck my life up beyond recognition. I wouldn’t put it past her.
“That’s what your mate suspects,” the witch tells me. Her expression tells me she doesn’t find it likely, which dampens my hopes before they really start to rise.
Cheryl’s clutching at straws to keep me here. She considered every possibility, exhausted every option. The witch is going to check me over, but she doesn’t expect to find anything.
“What do you need me to do?” I ask, wanting to get it over with.
A little burst of excitement zips through me when I picture the witch’s surprise at finding out that dead bitch Bianca caused all this shit. I’d give my right arm for that outcome. The spark fizzles out quickly. Bianca hates us, but she isn’t diabolical enough to have planned any of this.
“Sit down and get comfortable. You might pass out while I’m assessing you.”
I do as I’m told, sitting down on the couch. The cushion under my ass is warm so I’m guessing this was Rachel’s seat before she was asked to leave the room. Cheryl sits down next to me.
“I might pass out?” I ask, as I reach for my mate’s hand. “What exactly are you going to do?”
“The process isn’t openly known by witches, and I can’t divulge it to anyone who isn’t a born necromancer,” she tells me. “You’ll feel a little tingly as my magic moves over your body. You might feel sleepy or pass out cold. That’s normal. You’ll wake up once the spell has completed.”
I look at Cheryl, and she squeezes my hand in both of hers.
Her smile is tight. Her dark eyes are full of worry.
She wants so badly for this to be the answer.
