Sisters of Salt and Iron (The Sisters of Blood and Spirit, #2)

I shifted a little on the bed. I wasn’t all that skilled at serious talks. “Okay, so I’m jealous. Big deal. She’s never had a boyfriend before.”


“That’s not what I meant.” He let go of my hand and put his arm around me instead, pulling me against his chest. “You’re afraid she’ll love him more than she loves you, and that’s not going to happen.”

“You don’t know that,” I said, listening to the beat of his heart.

“Yeah, I do. Can you imagine ever choosing me over her? Choosing anyone over her?”

Was this a trick question? I wasn’t sure, but I think it depended on me answering honestly. “No. I’m sorry, but, no.”

“Don’t apologize. I’d never put you in that position, and you would never do it to her. You don’t have to worry, because there’s no contest. Wren would choose you every time, just like you’d choose her. You two are like...like halves of the same whole.”

That wasn’t the first time someone had referred to us as such. I thought it a lot myself. Sometimes I used to wonder if we were supposed to be one person, but that somehow we split into two in the womb. It wasn’t until we found out about Emily and Alys that I’d begun to think otherwise.

I lifted my head and kissed his cheek. “Thanks.”

He turned his head, his lips brushing mine. Next thing I knew we were stretched out together on the top of the quilt, kissing each other like we had nothing else to do for the next one hundred years.

I liked Ben so much. Like, a lot. And I knew all that stuff school and books and TV threw at teenagers about sex. It was a responsibility, and not something to be taken lightly. I also knew it was something awesome if you did it right, and I wanted to do it with Ben.

I was pretty sure he wanted to do it with me, too.

But he never pushed it. We’d kissed and touched and did a lot of things that felt really good, but he never got upset if I wanted to stop. If I was honest I’d have to admit that there had been a couple of times that I was upset that he stopped. I guess we’d get there whenever we got there. Right now I was just going to really enjoy the trip.

I had my hands under his shirt and he had his under mine when I heard a strange sound from my bathroom.

Ben’s head jerked up, his mouth leaving my neck. “Did you hear that?”

I nodded, slipping my hands out from underneath his Henley. He removed his hands as well, and we both sat up.

“Wren?” he asked.

I shrugged. Normally I felt when Wren was nearby—a subtle shift in the air or some extra sense that made her presence known to me. She had the same sense of me. I didn’t feel anything like that, but I did feel something wasn’t quite right, which was reason enough to worry.

Slowly, I eased off the bed and to my feet. Quietly, I walked toward the bathroom door and pulled it open.

There, standing in front of the tub, her back to me, was a girl with long, blood-red hair wearing an old-fashioned dress.

“Wren?” I asked. But it didn’t feel right.

The girl turned around, and I understood why it hadn’t felt right. This wasn’t my sister. My sister didn’t have eye sockets that were completely filled-in black, and she didn’t have a long gash in her face that dripped blood onto her gown. Blood covered the fingers of her right hand, and in her left, she held a bloody straight razor.

Her mouth opened, and I braced myself for whatever hellish sound might come out of it, but nothing did. She vanished before she could make a sound, swallowed up in what looked like a cyclone of shadow.

Dumbfounded, I stared at the words dripping down the white tile.

HELP ME.

My heart jammed itself into my throat.

“What the hell is that?” Ben asked, coming to stand beside me. “Is that blood?”

“Yeah,” I rasped. If he could see it, too, then it wasn’t just a message for me. It was a message for anyone who could see it—and that made it a haunting, which was never good.

“Who was that?” he asked. “She looked a little like you.”

“Alys,” I replied. My pulse was still hammering way too fast. “I think she’s in trouble.”

*

Ben hung around for another couple of hours until he had to go home for dinner. His parents weren’t terribly strict, but they liked having a big family meal on Sunday nights. I’d been invited to join a few times since we’d started dating, and I went each time, but tonight I had other plans.

I walked him to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said—hoping that it wasn’t a lie.

He gave me a hug. “Are you sure you’re okay? I can stay if you want.”

I shook my head. I’d accept his help researching things and even fighting ghosts, but when it came to situations that involved Emily or Alys—or anything family—I wanted to handle them on my own, or with Wren.

“You’re awesome,” I told him, pulling free of his arms. “I don’t tell you that enough.”

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