AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Graveyard, what’s wrong with her?” Seer asks helplessly.
My heart breaks at his voice. He sounds so afraid, though I don’t know why. I’m right here. I just can’t open my eyes.
I feel Graveyard moving around me, realizing that’s why his voice sounds so familiar. I haven’t had to deal with Graveyard much, apart from Abigail’s sickness last year. He doesn’t come around the club much these days. If he’s here, though, I must be really sick. That probably explains why I can’t open my eyes.
Something slides over my arm, and I feel the pressure of it, squeezing and pinching me. I’d wince if I had enough energy. The pressure releases, and I hear the scribble of a pen against paper. Something cold is attached to my finger, and something sharp goes under my tongue. I wish Graveyard would stop poking and prodding. I just want to sleep.
More scribbling comes before I feel something sharp prick my arm. It hurts briefly, but then the pain is gone. Seer asks Graveyard what he wants to do with my blood, and coldness rushes through me. If Graveyard does a blood test, he’ll find out. He’ll tell Nicolas. I was going to do it eventually, but it hasn’t been the right time.
“Water,” I moan, my throat suddenly feeling parched.
Nicholas rushes to my side. His cool hand presses against my forehead.
“What is it, mon couer? What can I do for you?”
“Thirsty,” I whisper. “Need water.”
He pulls away and I hear the quick succession of his steps as he leaves the room, presumably to go to the kitchen and get me water. I only have a few minutes. It’ll take all my energy to get this out.
“Graveyard,” I whisper as my strength dwindles. Sleep pulls me under. “I’m pregnant.”
“By my estimate, she’s about eight weeks along,” Graveyard tells me, a grim look on his face. “She barely had the strength to tell me, let alone give me permission to tell you.”
My whole world spins out of control. My wife is pregnant, lying in our bed and clinging to life.
“I recommend bringing her to the hospital. We can better monitor her there,” Graveyard says. All I can process is the buzz in my ears.
I shake my head and take a deep breath. “Do what you can from here. She doesn’t like hospitals, and she’ll kill me if she wakes up in one.”
Graveyard’s expression grows even grimmer. “Seer, without the proper care, she won’t wake up at all. I don’t know if it’s the ritual Mama mentioned or the pregnancy, but she’s not well. Her vitals are concerning.”
“Then you better do what you can to make her better,” I tell him darkly, my voice so low it’s barely a whisper. “Because I will not lose my wife.”
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
I’ve shuffled around the house all morning, feeling like a ghost myself. Maybe it’s stupid to be so sad about breaking up with a woman who isn’t even alive, but I can’t help the way my heart hurts. Though I know she isn’t the poltergeist, it doesn’t change the fact she’s dead.
Pocus finds me at the bar, drinking my sorrows away though it’s only 9 AM. He nods at me and grabs the bottle of vodka I’ve pulled out, taking a swig from the neck without hesitation.
“Tough go of it, brother,” he says darkly. “I’m sorry about your friend. But it’s good we have her now.”
“Pocus, she isn’t—” I try to explain there’s no way she can be the poltergeist when Seer marches in looking furious.
A gray-looking Graveyard slips behind him, leaving the house without a word. I didn’t know he was here.
Something is wrong though by the look on his face.
“Where is that bitch?” Seer asks, his entire body shaking. He fiddles with a lighter in one hand. This isn’t good.
“Seer, calm down,” Pocus says. “What’s going on?”
“Tory is unconscious,” he seethes. “That’s what the fuck is going on. So you tell me where that fucking bitch of a spirit is so I can put an end to this.”
I stand up in a panic, walking over to him to grab the lighter, but he’s too quick for me. He moves out of my grasp and swerves so he’s now behind me. I turn to face him, and when I do, he lands a punch on my face. It stings, and I can tell it will bruise.
“What the fuck, Seer?” I shout and push him back hard. He stumbles but catches himself. Once he’s righted himself, he lunges at me, tackling me to the ground. He tries to punch me again, but I evade his grasp.
“Enough,” Pocus tells him, holding him back.
