The wraith screams and I'm thrown into the kitchen wall. My head is whirling. I can't stand up. Each time I try, my legs buckle.I blink. The image in front of me doesn't make sense.My aunt is suspended in the air between me and the wraith. She makes gurgling sounds."No," I cry, struggling to get
I walk through the bleachers at the packed stadium, looking for Gwen. The marching band blares our school's fight song-correction-my old school.When I spot her silver head, a few rows over, I nearly trip climbing over the benches to reach her. Rachel is sitting next to her and even though I knew th
I don't know how long I sit on the sidewalk, sulking, but I scrub a hand down my face. The wraith won't care that I'm heartbroken or how I can't get Ben and Kiarr back. Or that I am missing Jacques's French accent and his kiss. How I was wrong to let my fear and prejudice come between us. I push to
I know I should wait for Jezza and Melanie, but I can't. Not when I'm so much closer to getting Ben and Kiarr back. And I never found out what happened to Jacques in the leyline either. He saved my life even when I let my fear and prejudice get in the way.My insides quivering, I send a quick text t
"I'm going to savor draining you dry," my uncle practically purrs.I shudder with revulsion, but I can't fight back. I've tried. My wand did nothing. Unleashing all I could didn't even faze him. He's a damn wraith. Nothing I've found or studied has prepared me for defeating him.Even my parents and
But most of all, I want a future with them. Crazy as it sounds. Three ghosts and a witch."Are you mocking me?" the wraith asks like he's gritting the words out.I open my eyes despite the pain and glare at my uncle. His skeletal form is back now along with the black, floating robes. And the image s
I struggle to lift my hand because I want to slap my uncle, this wraith. He is the cause of so much heartache and misery in my life. And I can't let him win.I ball up my fists, my nails digging half-moons into my palms. In my mind, I picture Aunt Grace, my mom and dad. How the grief and sorrow of s
I hold the prism against my chest, the coolness of it against my skin is soothing as is Jacques' presence.So, I keep moving this way and that, trusting Jacques to lead me out of this nightmare.Thunder booms so close I jump."You're doing wonderful." Jacques words reassure me. If that's the case,