Fear and pain became physical things that battered at me with terrible force, tearing at my heart and ripping through my soul. My chest burned, breathing became painful, and all I could feel was fear. My fear, her fear, all twisted into one stinking mess that made my stomach roil and my flesh crawl.
And then there was the screaming. Unvoiced, unheard by anyone but me, it reverberated through the emptiness of her flesh—echoes of agony in the bloody, battered shell that had once held a little girl.
Her soul wasn't here, but it hadn't moved on.
Someone—something—had come into the hospital and ripped it from her flesh.
Chapter Two
THE REALIZATION HIT LIKE A HAMMER AND I began to shake.
Someone had stolen her soul.
Why would someone do that?
How could someone do that?
Surely it wasn't the reapers. They were charged with the protection and guidance of souls. They couldn't be capable of anything like this.
Could they?
Hands suddenly grabbed my shoulders and wrenched me away. My fingers were torn from the little girl's and it was as if a bucket of ice water had been thrown over my face. The darkness, the fear, the pain all sluiced away, and suddenly I could breathe again.
I took several gulps of air, then, with a shaky hand, swiped at the tears that were on my cheeks—tears I hadn't even felt until then.
When I opened my eyes, I met Fay Kingston's gaze. She knew. The knowledge of death was right there in her shadowed, tear-filled eyes and stricken expression.
I can't do this. I can't say the words that will destroy her world.
I clenched my fists again, my short nails digging deep into my palms. The pain didn't help shore up my courage.