Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Her smile falters when she looks out the window to the street beyond.
“What is it?”
I turn to follow her gaze, but I don’t see anything.
“Nothing,” she says, frowning. “I thought I saw something, but it must have just been a shadow or a reflection.”
“Not another corpse,” Lorelei mutters, standing to look outside. Last year, while in this very room, the women all saw a zombie standing out in the street, watching us. “I don’t see anything.”
“My mind is just overactive,” Lucy says with a sigh. “Every little noise and every shadow freaks me out.”
“I think that’s normal,” Breena says in that soothing way she has. “We’re all on edge. And I think we should be. I don’t want any of us being caught unawares.”
“You’re right.” I nod over at her and then glance down at Lorelei. “Are you feeling better?”
“Physically? Yes, I’m better. I won’t be upchucking again. But emotionally? I’m a little strung out.”
“Sounds about right,” Giles says with a grin. “I’m no professional, but I think you should be.”
“You need some rest,” Lucy tells her.
“I need to kick some ass.”
Chapter Thirteen
Lorelei
The music. Goddess, it’s so beautiful. It softly tinkles like little bells on the wind, and then the flutes and wind instruments join until the sweetest voice I’ve ever heard builds over the water.
I can’t understand what it’s saying. Perhaps it’s a different language? It sounds like it could be Gaelic, which just adds to the intrigue and beauty for me. Whatever language it is, it’s absolutely amazing.
I want to step inside the music. I want it to surround and consume me, to just fill me up until I’m bursting with it. Until it’s coming out of my fingers and toes, shooting out of the ends of my hair. It feels like I should be able to dance within it and wear it like a soft, comforting blanket.
I absolutely do not want it to end.
I love that I hear it at the shore. The water is my place, it’s my element, and the music only makes it more special. It makes it feel like it’s only mine, like it’s made just for me, which makes me long for it even more.
I don’t actually know where I am right now. I can feel the sand and rocks under my feet, and once in a while, the cool water licks up and over my skin, filling me with energy. I’m on a shoreline somewhere, but it’s dark enough outside that I can’t tell exactly where I am.
The sky flashes with lightning, illuminating the water and land as bright as day for about two seconds before disappearing. I know where I am now. I’m on the shoreline near my cottage. Knowing that I’m so close to home makes me feel even better.
The lightning streaks once more, and then a scene begins to move across the clouds and sky above the water as if it’s a giant movie screen with the music as its soundtrack.
At first, it’s absolutely wonderful. I see Breena and Lucy with me, all of us as children. We’re standing on our quilt, hands clasped as we spin little spells and smile happily.
I see my mom and the aunts, Agatha still living, bustling about their kitchen to make dinner for all of us. They’re laughing and joking, and Agatha tosses a handful of flour at Hilda, covering all of them in white.
I want to jump in there and join in the pure joy radiating from that room. Oh, how I miss the three of them together.
Then the scene shifts, and I see the six of us, my cousins and our men, in Xander’s home. It’s as though I’m standing on the street, looking into the house, watching as I walk to the window and stare out. I look afraid.
Breena and Lucy join me, and they appear frightened, too.
“There’s nothing to be scared of,” I yell to them, wishing they could hear me. “Everything is wonderful. Don’t worry.”
But they shake their heads, and Xander pulls them away from the glass as if to protect them.
The sky grows dark, then lightning streaks across the expanse again before another scene begins.
This one is not a good memory.
First, I see Aunt Agatha hanging in the kitchen of her little house, not quite lifeless. She struggles against the rope, clawing and kicking, crying out to be let go. A shadow sits in the corner, laughing at her as she dies.
I fall to my knees, sobbing as I watch my sweet aunt die. And then the shadow leaves, and as if someone put the film on fast-forward, the sun comes up, and Lucy walks into the room, looking for her mama.
She struggles to cut Agatha down and folds her into her lap, weeping as she holds her mother’s lifeless body.
Lightning flashes again, and the scene changes once more. In this one, I’m walking through a forest, and all the people I love are hanging from the trees, their hands tied behind their backs, already dead.