She looked terrible and beautiful at the same time—those black smudges around her eyes and mouth looking goth-chic against the sheer white of her skin. She held out her hand and I reached for it.
Something struck me hard from behind, driving me to the earth. I barely got my hands out in time to keep my face from being ground into the old, crumbled pavement of the Haven Crest lane. I felt a snap inside, and pain shot through my torso so sharp I cried out.
I was flipped over so fast I lost my breath—not that I could breathe that well with at least one broken rib. Noah loomed over me like some kind of demon. His eyes had lost some of their glow, and I realized he’d put off sucking in energy to come after me.
How flattering.
“You bitch!” he cried, shaking me so hard my teeth rattled. “You meddling, sanctimonious worm! I’m going to rip you to shreds.”
Was that blood I tasted? “Go for it.” I reached up and wiggled the spike sticking out of his chest just for spite.
He backhanded me across the face. Now I definitely tasted blood. I punched him in the throat, hard. His head snapped back, but he hit me again and again and again. He was stronger than any ghost I’d ever faced before. I could literally feel my skull starting to come apart. I tried to manifest, but I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t angry enough, or scared enough.
Why the hell not?
Suddenly, he stopped. I looked up through tears and blood to see Wren standing there, her hand on his shoulder. “You said I could do it.”
“No,” I whispered. It wasn’t just that her offer tore at my heart, it was the fact that she couldn’t kill me. We both knew that—we were too perfectly matched. Too entwined. I didn’t know if she was trying to trick him, or if she just wanted to hurt me for a while.
Noah grinned and rose to his feet. I could breathe a little without him on me. “Of course, my dear,” he said, and stood back.
Wren crouched beside me, her long crimson hair brushing my face. Those awful black veins crisscrossing her cheeks.
“Do you know that when two ghosts merge, they can leave some of themselves behind?”
I nodded.
She smiled softly, her fingers stroking my cheek. “That’s what Noah did to me. And I did to him. Do you know what happens when you and I merge?”
Blood trickled from my mouth. I stared up at her, through the haze of red that had pooled in my eyes. “We...become...one.”
She leaned closer. “We become Melinoe. Let me in, Lark.”
I did. I trusted her no matter what Noah had done to her, or how dark her eyes were. She was my sister. She was the other half of my soul. I knew that now. We were individual pieces of one powerful whole.
I heard Noah’s shout as she sank into me, but I ignored it. My bones put themselves back together as Wren’s energy filled me. I pushed the darkness of Noah’s infection aside, cleansing and healing her as she healed me. My heart became her heart. My ribs became her ribs, whole and strong.
This wasn’t possession. She wasn’t wearing my body. This was her body. And it was mine. There was no me and no her.
There was only us.
THE MELINOE
I was two. Then became one.
I rose, confused but steady and sure in this body. I looked down at my hands—they were long and pale, but strong. I wore a snug suit of leather, ancient armor from long ago. I knew what I was, and yet it was strange and new.
I was Lark. I was Wren. I was Melinoe. And I was not afraid.
Around me chaos reigned. I watched as earthbound spirits fought one another for reasons they didn’t understand. I watched as others tried to possess humans marked by Solomon’s protection. Some humans weren’t quite so protected, and their frightened souls allowed them to be used as vessels.
This was not a fitting celebration for the night when the living and the dead walked together. This was not an honoring of those who had passed, nor a celebration of those who remained. This was chaos. And this place—so soaked in the tears of the living and the regrets of the dead—cried out in pain. So much pain.
I crouched and put my hand to the ground. “Easy,” I whispered. “It will all be over soon.”
I stood and turned my attention to the spirits gathered there—the ones who’d watched Noah beat on me. They stared at me, fear rendering them mute. They were no danger to me or to anyone else at the moment. They were sheep, just waiting to be led.
I would deal with them later.
“Where is he?” I asked.
They knew who I meant. An old man lifted his arm and pointed behind me. I turned and looked into the throng.
A scream rent the night, and I moved toward it, toward the stage where Gretchen stood speechless, staring at Joe as ghosts swept down upon the crowd. Joe’s head turned. His gaze locked with mine across the churning sea of fans who didn’t know what the hell was going on.