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Her arm reached out toward the stone, her fingers grazing the fuzzy moss growing through the cracks. She curled her finger and a high pitch shriek bellowed when she ran her finger down, dirt catching itself beneath her clean nails. I wanted to follow her tonight. Maybe see where her subconscious wanted to take her. Feel where she wanted to go when not being forced to be with me. Her movements stopped. Birds flew out from the trees and insects that were once loud were now silent. Something was wrong. Her head moved like static, half of her hair falling over her back. Her eyes came to mine. White. Completely white. No color.
I stilled, looking around myself. Something wasn’t right. What was she doing?
She raised her hand and pointed one finger at me. “You’re going to die.”
“Stop!” Ophelia grabs my arm as I fly off the bed, sweat slick over my skin. It has only been a few hours since Tillie and Madison flew off to Perdita with Tate and Spyder, but I wanted to get started straight away. Brantley, Bishop, and Nate are in the room with O and me, so I know I’m in safe hands. Safe enough to do this.
Ophelia wipes my sticky hair from my forehead. “We can’t go too hard. He read that something was wrong.”
“Do you know who he is?” Brantley seethes, sitting beside me on the bed. Bishop is on the other side and Nate is standing at the bottom of the bed.
“No.” Ophelia sighs. “He’s still appearing as you.”
Brantley kicks off the bed. As he heads toward the bathroom, he slams his palm against the wall before disappearing inside.
Nate whistles while looking up to where there’s a fresh hole. “He needs to kill someone. Preferably whoever is in your head. We have roughly—” Nate looks to Bishop. “Twenty hours to find out who this person is before we’re all in danger from him.”
“I’d say ten hours,” Bishop grumbles, shaking his head.
“This person.” Ophelia searches my eyes. “He has to have a co
“No one,” I say, shaking my head. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m pretty sheltered.”
Ophelia curls her lips beneath her teeth to stop from laughing. “Okay. So it can’t be that. Maybe they’re using another line to you, but that would mean whoever he is using would have to be very close to you. It all works that way when you’re an empath—an especially strong one like you. We feed off of emotions, whether we want to or not, and we form co
I shuffle up the bed to rest my head against the abundance of pillows. “The only people I’m truly close to are Brantley, Bishop, and Madison and Tillie. That’s all.”
Ophelia stands, hand on her hip while she begins pacing the room. “It has to be one of them.” She runs her fingers through her long hair, brushing it back. “There’s no other way he could possibly put you under like that.”
“So let me get this straight.” Nate takes a seat on the only chair in the corner of my room. “He’s using hypnosis and then visiting her in her dream state?”
“Yes,” Ophelia says. “It is possible. But you have to know what you’re doing.”
I rest back against my headboard. “This is getting tedious.”