first time and flew to the
fountain. Lining up around the edge, they faced outward from the glowing, seething water she
inhabited.
They guarded her in her sorrow and regrets, guarded her as though each were big as an eagle and
just as fierce.
They were, as always, her only solace and friendship.
Jane was aware that she was dead.
She knew it because she was in the midst of a fog, and someone who looked like her dead sister
was standing in front of her.
So she was pretty damn sure she'd kicked it. Except… shouldn't she be upset or something?
Shouldn't she be worried about Vishous? Shouldn't she be thrilled about reuniting with her little
sister?
«Hannah?» she said, because she wanted to be sure she knew what she was looking at. «That
you?»
«Kinda.» The image of her sister shrugged, her pretty red hair moving with her shoulders. «I'm
really just a messenger.»
«Well, you look like her.»
«Of course I do. What you see now is what's in your mind when you think of her.»
«Okay… this is a little Twilight Zone. Or, wait, am I just dreaming?» Because that would be great
fucking news, considering what she thought had just happened to her.
«No, you've passed on. You're just in the middle right now.»
«In the middle of where?»
«You're in between. Neither here nor there.»
«Can you be a little more specific?»
«Not really,» The Hannah-vision smiled her precious smile, the angelic one that had brought
even Richard the nasty cook around. «But here's my message. You're going to have to let go of
him, Jane. If you want to find peace, you're going to have to let go of him.»
If the him was Vishous, that just wasn't happening. «I can't do that.»
«You have to. Otherwise you'll be lost here. You only have so much time you can be neither here
nor there.»
«And then what happens?»
«You are lost forever.» The Hannah-vision got serious. «Let him go, Jane.»
«How?»
«You know how. And if you do, you can see the real me on the other side. Let. Him. Go.» The
messenger or whatever it was evaporated.
Left on her own, Jane looked around. The fog was pervasive, as dense as a rain cloud and as
infinite as the horizon.
Fear crawled through her. This was not right. She really didn't want to be here.
Abruptly a sense of urgency grew, as if time was running out, though she didn't know how she
knew that. Except then she thought of Vishous. If letting go meant giving up her love for him,
that so wasn't possible.
Chapter Forty-nine
Vishous was driving Jane's Audi like a bat out of hell through the rain, halfway to Havers, when
he realized she was not in her car with him.
Her corpse was.
His panic was the only energy in the enclosed space, his heart the only one that pounded, his
eyes the only ones that blinked.
The bonded male in him confirmed what his brain had been denying: In his blood, he knew that
she was gone.
V let his foot ease off the accelerator, and the Audi coasted for a stretch, then slowed to a stop.
Route 22 was empty, probably because of this early spring storm that was blowing, but he would
have stayed right in the middle of the road even if there had been rush-hour traffic.
Jane was in the passenger seat. Belted in upright, with the seat belt holding his muscle shirt
against her chest wound as packing.
He didn't turn his head.
He couldn't look at her.
He stared straight ahead, down the road's double yellow line. In front of him the windshield
wipers flipped back and forth, their rhythmic slapping like the sound of an old-fashioned clock,
tick… tock… tick… tock…
The passage of time was no longer relevant, was it. And neither was his rush.
Tick … tock… tick…
He felt like he should be dead, too, considering the pain in his chest. He had no idea how he was
still up and around when it hurt this badly.
Tock… tick…
Up ahead there was a curve in the road, the forest coming up to the asphalt's shoulder. For no
particular reason he noticed that the trees were all crowded in tight together, their leafless
branches interlacing, creating the impression of black lace.
Tock…
The vision that came to him crept up so quietly, at first he didn't know that what his eyes were
registering had changed. But then he saw a wall, a subtly textured wall… lit by a bright, bright
light. Just as he wondered about the source of illumination…
He realized it was a car's headlights.
The blare of a horn snapped him to attention, and he stomped on the gas while wrenching the
wheel to the right. The other vehicle fishtailed by on the slippery pavement, then
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