Page 60 of The Wishing Game

I breathe in and out, calm settling over me as I rest my back against the wall, my palms hot against the cold wall. Still, I imagine a warm presence caressing my senses, wrapping me in its protective embrace and vowing to never let me go—to never leave me again.

Inhale. Exhale.

A light push and a deafening sound penetrate my eardrums. Then I fall. My mouth opens with a scream as the void swallows me up. But it's not for long as my bones crack in the eerie silence of the night. The pain is as sharp as it is sudden as I hit the ground.

I roll on my back, a low howl of pain wheezing past my lips. My eyes are wide open, yet I cannot see anything. There's only darkness—and a lingering flicker of light up above. Did I... Did I just fall from that height?

"Damn it," I mutter as I make an effort to get up. Pain erupts in my joints, and I grit my teeth against the sudden weakness in my knees.

Turning, I look right and left in an attempt to figure out where I am and what the hell happened. I don't let panic overtake me, doing my best to keep calm despite the fact that I'm in a dark room, outside of the protective barrier, where the demon could very well come for me.

"Damn your curiosity, Luce," I chastise myself, mumbling a few curses for good measure. Of course I had to investigate the sound of that noise, only to find myself trapped in a hidden room within the wall—and above ground!

Bringing my hand against my chest, I bang it over my heart.

"You foolish girl," I mumble, shaking my head at myself. So lost I was to the possibility that my Nikki would be around that I'dlost sightof all the other potential dangers—andthe fact that someone could have made those noises on purpose.

A frisson of awareness goes down my back, and a sliver of fear spears through me.

Someone orsomethingmade that noise. It wanted to draw me here. And like the lovesick fool I am, I fell right into its trap.

Gulping down against the anxiety rising in my chest, I realize I need to act fast and find a way out of here. Given my dim vision, the only recourse I have is to feel my way around and hope for the best—clearlynota very optimistic course of action, yet the only one I have at the moment. I stretch my arms out as I walk a few steps forward, and my fingers graze a piece of metal. Frowning, I wrap my hands around the metal bars, realizing it's a staircase—an old, rusty, industrial-type of staircase.

Realization dawns on me. It's a secret room. God, but had I fallen just a little to the right, I would have hurt myself a great deal more than I already did.

"Thank God there's a staircase," I whisper, already raising one leg so I can climb up. Yet I don't make it more than one step up the ladder when a cold gust of wind blows against my neck, my hair flying forward.

My eyes widen just as my heart starts hammering in my chest. Without looking back, I keep climbing, hoping I'm fast enough to evade whatever's behind me.

Another gust of air hits me, yet this time it has a certain warmth to it. A light scent wafts forward, one that speaks of comfort, lightness, of...home.

I freeze.

My self-preservation be damned as my heart pounds in a mixture of anticipation and relief. And following the cues of my body, I slowly turn.

At first, I don't see anything—not with how the darkness seems to swallow everything up. Slowly, though, particles of dust light up, creating the vague outline of a body.

I blink once. Twice. I bring one hand to rub at my eyes, convinced I must be seeing things. But no. It's real.

The shimmery dust I've seen before is here again. And that means...

FIFTEEN

"Nikki?" A choked sob escapes me as I all but jump off the staircase in my attempt to get closer to him. "Is it you? Please tell me it's you," I plead.

This is what pure madness is. Prizing the potential of one more moment with my beloved above my own safety.

It could be anything. It could be anyone. But I throw caution to the wind and focus only on what he makes me feel—on what my heart tells me is true.

How could anyone but him awaken this raging storm of longing in my heart?

I reach with my hand for him, curling my fingers inward as I hesitate to touch him.

"Nikki?" I ask in a whisper.

He doesn't answer. Of course he doesn't answer. He's shimmery dust, not a person, and according to Thea, his spirit would barely have awareness.

Yet in spite of that, the shimmery mist that makes up his shape flickers, the light particles growing in intensity.

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