Page 75 of The Witch's Heart
Not the silvery threads that have come to my aid in the past. This is something different. Something colder. Harsher.
Let us help,the voices whisper.
Or maybe the power itself is speaking to me now. I don’t know. And I don’t care.
I give into it before I even understand what it’s offering.
All I know is that it will save us—and that’s enough for me.
Pressing my hands to Dr. Livingstone’s cheeks, I will the magic to flow between us. I’ve only barely begun to get a glimpse of what it’s offering when the air flutters around us, followed by a softpop.
Dr. Livingstone’s eyes go wide as the light around us fades to gray. In fact, everything fades until all color has been stripped away, painting the world around us in a dull black and white, shimmering with transparency.
I reach my hand back towards the wall behind me and gasp as my fingers pass straight through it.
The only thing solid underneath my grip is the doctor.
On my right, the closet door is ripped open and Nurse Schmidt appears. I nearly choke in panic as she stares right at us.
But then her frown only deepens as I realize she’s not looking at us at all, but rather through us. A second later, she slams the door shut, sealing us inside.
“What is—” Dr. Livingstone stops short as another figure appears.
The woman I saw earlier in the sundress dotted with red poppies floats beside us, her ethereal body overlapping the closed door. She beams at me.
“You did it.”
“What did I do?” I ask.
“You came to us.”
“Is that what this is?” I look around, one hand still pressed to Dr. Livingstone’s skin. “Is that why Schmidt couldn’t see us?”
She nods. “You’re on our side of things now.”
“Am I . . . dead?” I can’t help but ask.
She laughs. “No. You’re just traveling.”
“Like astral projection?” I heard the term once. From Estelle. She was always interested in the esoteric.
“Sort of. Except that you brought your bodies with you. Good thing too. That bitch would have made you suffer for escaping her little game.”
She glances at the doctor.
“You’re not like the others. Not likehim.”
His eyes are wide and I realize he can see her too. “Who are you?” he asks.
“My name is Genevieve.”
“You’re a ghost.”
She smiles. “And you’re undead, doctor. Don’t look so surprised there are other impossibilities in the world.”
He looks at me. “I’ve heard you speaking when it seemed no one was there. You’ve been seeing them all along.”
I nod.
