Chapter Twelve

A finger poked my cheek.

Flailing, I smacked it away and fumbled to turn on the lamp on the nightstand.

Devon stood leaning over me.

And his eyes were undeniably glowing bright blue.

“Devon?” I whispered.

He didn’t say anything, just tilted his head as he stared.

“You’re freaking me out,” I said, scrambling up from my bed to stand on the other side and put some distance between us.

Devon narrowed his eyes and let out a quiet hum. Then he turned, his movements strangely jerky as he headed for the door.

Oh, no, no, no.

Nearly tripping over my feet, I threw myself between him and his escape route. “Stop.” I spread my arms across the wood behind me. “You know you can’t leave.”

His hand shot out and grabbed the doorknob. I fought to pull his fingers away as he kept trying to twist it. Devon sneered at me as he leaned in close. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he finally managed to speak.

“He’s mine,” a woman’s voice rasped.

I froze at the sound and Devon took the opportunity to lunge for the door handle again.

“I said stop it,” I whisper-shouted as I shoved him back. Enough of this. Making a silent promise to apologize to him later, I hooked my leg around Devon’s and pushed him down to the floor. The move took him by surprise and he lay there, stunned. I used that to my advantage as I sat on him and reached to snag the sheet off my bed.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but you are not leaving this room.” Twisting the sheet around him, I made it as tight as I could before shoving him back so I could tie the ends to the bedpost. Triple-knotted.

He struggled to get free, glaring as the glow in his eyes flickered. “Mine.” Devon’s head fell forward, eyes closed.

“Hey.” I crept closer. “Devon?”

Silence.

I poked his shoulder gently.

He let out a soft snore and I sat back in relief.

A quick internal check showed our connection still holding strong. A few hours ago, I wouldn’t have believed I’d be so happy about that.

After a brief debate, I decided to leave him tied up. I shimmied back and sat against the door. The side table lamp was still on, but I didn’t have the energy to get up and turn it off. Every muscle in my body was vibrating. I wrapped my arms around my knees as I replayed the last few minutes in my mind.

What was that? Who was that? Why—

Okay. Deep breaths. In. And out. I focused on that for a few minutes until I settled.

He’s mine.

That’s what the voice said. And whoever it was had been able to take over his body so they must have some kind of connection. Question after question ricocheted around in my brain as I watched Devon sleep, but not one single answer. I had no idea what I was dealing with. Or how to deal with it. I dropped my forehead down to rest on my knees.

Grandma. I need you.

“Kimmy.”

I groaned as I struggled to open my eyes, shifting my back against the hard surface of the door—of the door? Oh, right. I raised a hand to block the light streaming through my bedroom window and spotted Devon shooting me a glare from his spot on the floor.

“Kimmy,” he repeated. “Why am I tied up?” He struggled against the sheet that was not giving an inch.

“It was for your own good,” I said with a yawn, rubbing my eyes. I’d stayed up as long as I could keeping watch and puzzling my way through what we knew so far. I’d cobbled a theory together. A terrifying theory that I was not a fan of, but it was the only thing that made sense.

“Well, can you please untie me?” Devon wiggled restlessly. “I need to go.”

“You can’t leave.” I frowned at him. I thought he understood—

“No,” he said through gritted teeth. “I need to go. Pee, Kimmy! I need to pee!”

“Oh! Sorry.” I scrambled across the floor and untied the sheet. He sprung to his feet as soon as he was free and shot out the door. “Wait!” I dropped my outstretched hand with a groan. I should have checked to make sure my parents weren’t around.

Creeping over to my door, I peeked out into the hall. Devon was already in the bathroom with the door closed and the upstairs was quiet, but I could hear the faint clinking of dishes from the kitchen. Mom and Alex were having breakfast. Good. That gave us a bit of space.

By the time Devon came back, I had the sheets and blankets tidied on my bed. He flopped down on top, ruining the effect.

“You going to tell me why I was tied up?” He stared at me with an unimpressed look.

“You don’t remember?” I asked and he threw his hands up while shaking his head. “That actually makes sense. You weren’t really . . . present.”

“Explain? Please?” Devon grumbled as he propped himself up on one elbow.

I sat down beside him and tried to figure out how to explain that he’d basically been possessed. “Last night, I woke up and you were standing over my bed. Your eyes were . . . glowing.”

“Glowing?”

“Bright blue.” I nodded. “You spoke with someone else’s voice. She took over your body. Through magic.”

His eyes went wide. “Did I try to hurt you?”

“No,” I said quickly. “She was trying to make you walk out of the room. That’s why I tied you up. I couldn’t think of any other way to keep you safe.”

“Oh. Uh, thank you for that, then, I guess.” He moved to sit cross-legged beside me and shook his head. “I don’t understand. What did she want with me?”

“She said you were hers.” I got a chill down my spine remembering that voice.

Devon paled. “Do you think she had something to do with how I—how I died?” He whispered the last part and I nodded. Awful as it was, it made the most sense.

“I think she took your spark,” I said. “And I don’t think you’re the only one. For months now, everyone coming through the funeral home has been missing a spark. That’s never happened before. The odd person here and there, but—I thought it was my fault.”

Months of being mad at myself for not knowing how to use the power on my own. Months of thinking it was their fault. Being mad at them for not having any unfinished business. Being mad at Grandma—

I felt sick at the idea that this person could have taken all of their sparks.

Taken Grandma’s.

“But you brought it back,” Devon said. “My spark. That’s why I’m alive again, right? Is that why she came after me?”

“I’m still not sure how I managed to do that,” I admitted. “But I think that’s why she tried to make you leave.” She must need him around to take the spark back. “The important thing right now is to keep you hidden while we work on getting to the bottom of it all.” Keeping an eye on Devon was the only way I could protect him at the moment.

“I was thinking I should go home?” he asked, gnawing at his lip.

“No!” How could he even suggest that? “This person must be a powerful witch. She’s stolen the lives of who knows how many people. She has to be responsible for that huge memory spell as well. And she’s looking for you. Most likely to steal your spark again!”

“Yeah, but we don’t know how far the memory spell goes, do we? What if my parents are looking for me?” He started to climb off the bed. “They’ll be worried.”

“You could lead the witch right to them,” I said, pulling him back. “Do you want to put them in danger?”

Devon had a silent battle with himself before shaking his head.

“I know this is scary,” I said. “But I’m—”

“Stop telling me you’re going to figure this out! Please.” He cut me off with a sharp wave of his hand. “You might be a kid with magic, but you’re still a kid. What can you actually do?”

“Apparently I’m capable of a lot more than I thought I was, so who knows?” We hadn’t even made our way through all of the journals yet. There had to be something helpful there.

Pushing forward was how I’d brought back Devon. If I kept pushing forward on this, the answers had to come together eventually. Try, try again.

“Do you think you can trust me for a little bit longer?” I asked Devon.

He scrubbed his hands over his face and groaned. “Fine.”

“Great,” I said, hustling out of bed. “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“I’ll be right back. Stay here and—”

“Be quiet,” he finished, flopping backward onto the covers. “I know.”

Morris was waiting outside my door when I opened it so I let him in to keep Devon company while I was gone. I zipped down to the kitchen, hoping for a quick in and out.

“Morning!” Alex greeted me as I made a beeline for the toaster. He and Mom were seated at the table, empty plates in front of them and nearly empty coffee mugs in hand.

“We had two new guests arrive this morning,” Mom said to me. “I’ll be working on them this afternoon if you decide you’d like to try to Wake them before that.”

“I can’t believe old Mr. Kingsley passed,” Alex said, shaking his head. “We ran into each other at the farmers market this weekend and he was the picture of good health.”

I paused in my toast making. “Do you know how he died?”

“The most peaceful way you can,” Mom said. “In his sleep. So did Mrs. Manning, come to think of it. Both of them, late last night. Different retirement homes, though.”

Tug, tug, tug.

I didn’t need a warning from my power to be suspicious of these new arrivals. They fit the profile of every single individual with no remaining spark who’d come through the funeral home over the past few months.

They could be the witch’s latest victims. My stomach turned slowly at the thought.

There was a whirlwind of activity as Mom and Alex finished off their coffees and dealt with the dishes. “Let me know if you want to go downstairs,” Mom said, giving me a hug before heading to her office.

Alex ruffled my hair with a smile. “No visitations today,” he said. “How about a family game night?”

“Sure,” I said. “Sounds great.” The threat of an increasing body count was motivation enough to solve this quickly, but the promise of UNO didn’t hurt.

After whipping up four pieces of toast and peanut butter at lightning speed, I returned to my room. Devon hadn’t moved from his spot and was now gently petting Morris, who was purring up a storm.

“Breakfast is served,” I said as I shut the door behind me.

He eyed the plates in my hands with interest. “Peanut butter toast? Gimme.”

I passed one over and moved to sit beside him. We ate in silence for a bit, but it wasn’t too long before Devon started shooting me curious looks.

“Wha’ g’in on?” he finally asked, talking around the wad of toast in his mouth.

For a second I was convinced Grandma Bev herself reached through the beyond to speak through my mouth when I replied, “Chew, swallow, and then talk, please.”

Devon chewed obnoxiously, swallowed, and then opened his mouth wide to show it was empty. “What’s going on?” he repeated. “You’re all frowny.”

Time to bring him up to speed.

“Two new people were brought in this morning,” I said, setting my plate aside, appetite gone. “I think they might also be victims of this witch. If my theory is correct.”

“How do we test your theory?” he asked, taking another huge bite.

“We take a little field trip to the basement,” I said.