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  "I did." She smiled. "They were very pretty, thank you. I gave Gavin the note attached to his. But I ate his candy bar. He hasn’t worked out all week, he doesn’t need those calories."

  "Good. Jils?" I said. "When can I go home? I just want to go home to my own bed."

  "Soon, sweetie, soon," she said, patting my hair in a motherly way.

  I nodded and curled up in my stark white hospital blankets, hoping that if I fell asleep the voice would come back. Maybe, if I could hear it one last time, it would sustain me for the rest of my life. My hand involuntarily reached to my neck to run the silver ring over the chain—like I always did when I was nervous, sad, or concentrating—but my hand met only the skin of my throat. I felt around all the way to the back of my neck and came up empty.

  “Jilsey, did they take my necklace when I got here?” I asked in a mild panic. I couldn’t explain it, but that ring had grounded me so much the past couple years. It brought me a sense of calm that I’ve never experienced before.

  “No, it wasn’t on you when they brought you in. All your personal effects are in my purse,” she said. “Maybe it fell off on your way home or at work. It’s probably out front, by the porch. We’ll have Gavin check later, okay?”

  I simply nodded and let my body slump back against the pillows. A brief flash of stormy hazel eyes swept across my vision. Of smooth, warm fingers brushing my collarbone, sending a shiver through my already hypothermic body. I remembered his fingers on my necklace, and I remembered the look in his eyes when he saw the ring—recognition and surprise and heartache. Another vague memory surfaced, the sensation of the chain being tugged away from my neck.

  “Who were the medics that brought me in?” I asked.

  “Not sure,” she said, grabbing my chart and flipping to the back. “Stallard, Blye, and Goodman.”

  Those names didn’t ring a bell. I was more familiar with the officers than I was the medics. “Are they men?”

  Jils replaced the chart and took her seat again. “No, why?”

  “No reason.” I shook it all off. This was probably another thing that I’d confused because of the head injury. He wasn’t real.

  Gavin came back a few hours later, shortly after I had finished the salty water that the hospital called soup. As soon as he entered the room, Jilsey excused herself, saying that she was going to go sleep in the on-call room and to call her if we needed anything. Once she was gone, Gavin eased himself into bed next to me—taking care not to jostle me too much—and nestled me into his side. We lay like that for a moment before either of us spoke.

  “I’m sorry I got upset earlier,” he said, his breath washing over my face, making my mouth water. I racked my brain for the cause of that delicious scent.

  “Are those Funyuns I smell?” I asked, craning my neck get a better whiff.

  “Maybe. Why?” He flashed me his most charming smile.

  “Gav, I’m starving,” I whined. “They only gave me this nasty soup. What will it take for you to bring me back something edible? Funyuns, Doritos, Cheetos—anything really. I’ll even settle for trail mix or rice cakes.”

  “Well, my dear, it’s your lucky day,” he said, pulling a crumpled bag of Funyuns from his pocket and handing it to me. “I felt bad, and I know how to buy your affection.”

  “Yeah, ya do,” I said, pouring them straight from the bag into my mouth. “You have never been hotter.”

  He laughed lightheartedly. “I think that’s the head injury. But those Funyuns are going to cost you.”

  “Cost me what?” I swallowed my mouthful of junk and washed it down with some water.

  He grasped my chin gently in his hand and lowered his face, his lips hovering slightly over mine. I inhaled deeply, preparing for his kiss, tilting my face upward, intending to meet him halfway—and that was when I heard it again.

  Lina…hear…please…listen…don't…

  Then it was gone. The sinking in my stomach returned with a vengeance, and the Funyuns and broth churned, the taste of bile threatening my throat. I was about to leap from the bed when I realized that Gavin still held my face in his hand.

  Not real, not real, not real, I told myself.

  I chanced a glance at him to see if he had noticed anything was amiss. His downturned lips and the crease between his eyes told me that my little episode did not escape his notice.

  “Are you okay?” he asked worriedly. “Catalina, can you hear me?”

  “Yeah, I can hear you,” I said in a soft voice. “Sorry, I just spaced. I’m tired. Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?” he asked, his frown deepening

  “It sounded like static, but it was talking,” I said. “Like a badly tuned radio.”

  “I didn’t hear anything. I was calling your name and snapping my fingers in front of your face,” he said. “You didn’t even blink, you just stared off into the room all glassy eyed.”

  “Weird. Maybe I’m just tired,” I said. Still, seeing the worry in his eyes, I pulled him down to my level and kissed him softly on the cheek. “Thank you for staying here with me. But with all due respect, Officer Hollow, you need a shower, a hair cut, and a shave. Like really bad,” I teased.

  “My hair has been this length for a while,” he said, running his hand through his scruffy hair with a quizzical furrow of his brow.

  “I know.” I smirked a little. “You’ve needed a haircut for a while.”

  “Well, then I suggest you hurry up and get better so we can all go home,” he said, moving to the recliner next to the bed and popping open the foot rest. “Because, the three of us? We’re a package deal. As long as you’re here, so are we. And that means no showers or shaving.”

  I rolled my eyes and snuggled down into my bed. Hopefully this little hospital stay of ours wouldn’t last too much longer. I wasn’t sure my nerves or Gavin’s hair could take much more.

  Telor 5

  Jilsey was working tonight and came in to check on Catalina at regular intervals. Something about the way Jilsey’s eyes rested too long on where I was standing, the way she seemed to position her body between Catalina and me, made me wonder. Her presence seemed different, in a way I couldn’t quite pinpoint. The cop—Gavin or whatever his name was—finally went home. Lina woke up three days ago, and she was being released tomorrow. While I was glad she was getting well enough to go home, it brought on a whole new round of issues.

  Forty-eight hours was the usual timeline, how long a Guide had to retrieve a soul meant for death. Soon, Tori would know that this soul was missing from her numbers. Best case scenario, she would make me fix it. Worst case scenario, she would send someone else to do it. I didn’t think my stopping the bleeding was what saved her. She had already lost so much blood the bleeding had all but stopped. Something else happened, though I hadn’t exactly figured out what. Something that I didn’t do.

  I moved to the side of her bed and sat down, careful not to disturb her IV and all the other wires she had attached to her. She was a restless sleeper, and the blankets usually ended up at her feet rather than on top of her. I checked the door to make sure no one was watching and pulled them back over her. Since no one could see me, blankets moving of their own accord would look strange to anyone.

  The more I watched her, the more I realized I’d made the right decision. The ring was settled safely in my pocket. I knew I should give it back to her, but I liked having it. It would remind me of her when I had to leave. I ran my knuckles over her cheek. She smiled and turned her face into my hand. The touch sent chills through me. I wanted to lie down beside her and hold her until the watery sunlight of dawn chased me away. But I didn’t want to stay this close to her that long in case Tori decided to track me.

  I had already been here a little too long today, and Cheyenne could only cover for me so much. Besides, I had plans to make, and the sooner those were dealt with, the better.

  While it killed me to do it, I leaned down to her ear, and whispered, “I’ll be back, Cariad. I promise.” T
hen I gave her cheek a soft kiss. Her answering sigh let me know that she’d heard me. Whether she’d remember or not was another story.

  The world had a different feel now. My world, the land of the dead, felt altered lately. It seemed like an imprint of what it used to be. An abstract world rather than a tangible thing. I could still feel and see Guides like I could before, but they didn’t seem to notice me. Being more or less ignored allowed me to come and go around Lina as I liked, but it made me wonder. Cheyenne didn’t seem to see me differently. I rubbed the star tattoo on my wrist, the one that marked me as a Guide; it had become a habit that I was usually unaware of.

  Taking a deep breath, I let my body dissolve and the air absorb me. It was how we got from their world to ours. I didn’t sense any souls calling for me. I should be good for a couple of hours. Weaving through the sea of fog, the building I was looking for finally came into view. She was there, I knew she was, the natural foreboding that always followed her hung stagnant in the air surrounding her house.

  Usually, I would knock. It showed respect, or so she said. I didn’t want to show respect right now. I wanted to show power. She valued that above everything else. Unlike the majority of her Guides, I wasn’t afraid of her. Not waiting to consider the possible consequences, I opened the door and walked right in.

  It was a running joke amongst the Guides that many years ago, before Tori had died, she was a witch who sacrificed chickens and children to make her spells of power. It was all bull but still popped into my head every time I was here, just a little something to put a smile on my face. A smile she was likely to smack off, as had been the case on several occasions.

  I found her lounging on a chair on the back balcony.

  “How many times do I have to tell you to knock?” she gritted between her teeth. It crawled over my skin physically and stuck there. I had to resist the urge to scratch myself bloody just to get it off.

  “I didn’t want to disturb you,” I said, waltzing right back to her seat on the balcony and plopping down next to her.

  “Telor, darling,” she purred, running her hand down the front of my shirt, “you’re not due to check-in for a while. Are you purposely disobeying orders? Or is there a reason for this visit?”

  “Do I need a reason to come see you?” I asked, knowing how my flirting pleased her. This time was no different, a reluctant smile tilted the corners of her mouth up for a split second.

  “No. But you always have one,” she pointed out.

  The difference between how she treated me and how she treated others was not lost on anyone. I was sure, had anyone else disturbed her, they would be in the Pits, writhing in their darkest memories until Tori deigned to release them. I, on the other hand, defied her often and walked away with little more than a slap on the wrist—or face. Despite my obvious favor, even I would pay a hefty price for what I had done.

  “I just came to check on something. Our visit is simply a perk,” I answered truthfully, at least partially.

  “Is your apprentice learning well?”

  “Cheyenne?” I asked. Keeping Cheyenne’s innocent heart away from Tori had been a priority for me. “She’s doing very well.”

  “Is there anything else you need to tell me?” she asked, expectantly.

  Did she already know? I was walking a dangerous line and I was well aware of that, but there was no way in hell I was going to take the chance that she did already know.

  “Nothing at all,” I said, bracing myself for her next words.

  Our meeting was coming to an end, and I knew it. She didn’t seem to know anything about Catalina. We had time, stolen time, but time nonetheless. I needed that window to try to work it all out.

  “Did you need something else?”

  Obviously, I had overstayed my welcome.

  “I got what I needed,” I answered, for now.

  “So did I.” Her words sent ice down my spine.

  Not bothering with saying goodbye, I left. I knew this stroke of luck wouldn’t last, but I was thankful for it. It was strange. I knew Catalina was special, but I was just starting to see how special she truly was.

  Lina 6

  I…don't…what…happened…but…I’ll…fix…it…promise

  It was getting clearer; I could almost decipher full sentences. Sometimes I knew he was talking to me, other times I was pretty sure he was talking to someone else, though it was only ever his voice that I heard. I was beginning to notice a faint accent—not foreign really, but not entirely American, either. As if he had lived somewhere else a long time ago, and America had corrupted the traces of his heritage. The final three days in the hospital were a mixture of heaven and hell. Singer, that was what I’d named the voice, had been coming and going at relatively random intervals. Even when he didn’t say anything, I knew he was there. Some part of me, either my subconscious or my soul, was running on the same wavelength as him. And that something was hooked. When he was around, all I could do was hang on his every word. I was like a junkie, needing fix after fix. The more I heard it, the more I needed it. When he was gone, his absence rang through every fiber of my being. It pined for his return like it fought for air.

  My original theory that he was a medic that responded to me was a total bust. I researched all the responding officers. I knew the two cops who’d come, they were friends of Gavin’s and didn’t even remotely fit the bill. After Facebook stalking every other name I could find, it was easy to rule them out as well. This was just the aftermath of my head injury. Or I was losing my mind.

  My behavior hadn’t gone unnoticed by Jilsey or Gavin, either. I wasn’t fully aware that I did it, but apparently I completely spaced out at times. My eyes glazed over, and I didn’t respond to any outside commotion. They’ve asked me what I was doing when it happened, but I just told them I didn’t know. The truth would buy me a one-way ticket to the Looney Bin. No, thank you.

  Gavin and Jils worked out their schedules so one of them would be home with me at all times, just in case I needed them. In other words, “We don’t trust you to not go to work. Also, your weird catatonic episodes freak us out.” They confiscated my work laptop last night when they caught me checking emails after dinner.

  Little did they know, I had my Outlook e-mails forwarded to my cell phone. I’d gotten smarter about it, though. I only checked them while they were in the shower and after I went to bed at night. They also hadn’t taken my project binders from my desk—chances are they had no idea what they were—so I still had those to keep me busy. I might not have been able to work on the excavation project from home, but I could sure as hell keep up on upcoming exhibits and my correspondences.

  I’ll…you…please…don’t…afraid…you…meet…trust…hide

  "Lina!" Gavin shouted, shaking me a little.

  "Hmm? I know, right?" I replied, trying to downplay that I had blanked out for the umpteenth time.

  “You were spacing again,” he said, concerned.

  “Sorry, I was thinking,” I lied.

  After a brief look, Gavin focused his attention back on the TV. His appearance was once again professional: cropped blond hair with the top slightly longer than the rest and a clean-shaven face. The circles under his eyes had faded slightly but were definitely still there. I knew he still wasn’t sleeping; I could hear him outside my bedroom two or three times a night. He never knocked or came in; he just stood outside, the shadows of his feet under the door the only indication he was there at all.

  It was my final day of taking it easy. Gavin and Jils had protested, stating that I needed more time to recover. But the good doctor had given me the all clear, and I was going to take it.

  Working would actually come as a relief from these past days at home. I couldn’t blame either of them for being worried, but it was getting out of hand. I couldn’t go anywhere alone. I went to the kitchen—my babysitter of the day followed me. I went to my room—they decided the hallway needed vacuuming or the baseboards needed dusting. Gavin even insisted on carr
ying me up the stairs the first day. It took uncomfortable amounts of begging and whining to get him to let me walk. I was pretty sure he was one step away from making Jilsey sponge bathe me so I wouldn’t slip in the shower.

  Unable to sit still, I got up and headed toward the kitchen in search of lunch. The flowers on the island were starting to wilt, the once green leaves a faded brown. Reaching out, I plucked Gavin's note off his vase, sending a few crunchy leaves to the counter, and re-read it. Oasis, Wednesday, 6:30. Gavin hadn't mentioned it at all. Maybe he had changed his mind or was waiting for me to bring it up. If I had to guess, I would say it was the latter.

  "You missed our date," he said, strolling into the kitchen and heading straight for the fridge, like that was actually what he’d come in here to do. That was what made him a good cop; everything he did looked natural. I was pretty sure he could put on a dress, and it would look like he’d done it every day of his life.

  "Sorry, I was a little preoccupied. You know, what with being unconscious and all," I said. His pained expression urged me to quickly add, "Besides, today is Wednesday, and I never specified which Wednesday. Let me buy you lunch."

  "Is this your way of making it up to me or your way of getting out of the house?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the fridge.

  "Both, of course," I said, voice flirty, hoping it would distract him. Vain hope, but hope, nonetheless.

  Gavin twisted his lips in concentration and finally sighed.

  "Okay, we can do lunch. I have to stop by the station first though. Go get dressed," he said, smiling at my stunned expression. I really hadn’t expected that to work. I turned and practically skipped up the stairs to my room before he thought better of it and made me stay home. "Wear something practical, it’s still icy!" he yelled after me.

  Ten minutes later, I thumped to the bottom of the stairs to find Gavin waiting with my coat in hand. I had opted for a blue sweater, skinny jeans, and the brown Uggs Jilsey had bought me for Christmas.