Whispered Darkness by Jessica Sorensen Page 0,40
out of the forest and to the cemetery without being seen,” he says, glancing at Beth’s body. “Unless we wait until night.”
“Beth made it sound like it was urgent to get it moved as soon as possible.”
“I know, but if we get caught with it, we’ll probably get blamed for her death.”
“True.” I contemplate an alternative but come up empty-handed. “I wish I knew where that old cemetery was that I dreamt about. It was in the forest and secluded, so it’d be perfect.”
As soon as the words leave my lips, it’s as if some unseen ability of mine manifests. Well, either that or the lingering presence of Beth’s ghost has managed to claw her way from the in-between and into my mind. Because, suddenly, I can see the way to the cemetery. A path that leads from where we are and deeper into the trees.
“Holy shit,” I whisper. “I know where it is.”
“The cemetery?”
“Yep.”
His brows dip. “How?”
“I … I don’t know.” I shrug. “I can just see it.”
He remains silent, and I start to question if perhaps this is the point where he starts to question if I’m insane. But when he breaks the silence, I realize that’s not even close to what he’s thinking. Not even a little bit.
“We should probably get a shovel,” he says, yanking his fingers through his hair and glancing around.
I nod, realizing that perhaps all this constant self-doubt might be in my own head. Whatever the reason, I guess it’s not important right now. Making sure I put Beth’s body someplace where no one else will find it is.
And then I’m going to solve her murder.
12
Harlynn
Before we take off to bury Beth’s body, we grab some shovels from my house, along with a wagon to … um … haul the body to the cemetery. It unsettles me how close her body was to where I live and pops up all sorts of questions that I’ve been trying to ignore. Like if Foster maybe had something to do with her death.
Maybe it’s not Foster, though. Star said he wasn’t human, but she never said what he is or for how long he’s been … well, not Foster. I think about the entire time I’ve known him, searching for an indicator. But I feel like he’s always been how he is now. I’m just more aware of the cracks inside the perfect façade that he tries to portray.
We lucked out that Beth’s body was in the forest, or else we probably would’ve been spotted. With all the branches, trees, and bushes to conceal us, we’re able to remain concealed. Plus, the path my senses are taking us on is guiding us deeper into the muggy woods.
As we walk, Kingsley towing the wagon, I fan through the pages of the book that he obtained from Death. He grabbed it from his car when we went back to my house, per my request to look at it.
“What language do you think this is?” I keep my voice quiet in case anyone is nearby, knowing one wrong move could get us arrested for murder.
“I have no idea,” Kingsley whispers as he steers the wagon around a rock. “At first, I thought Latin, but I don’t think that’s right.”
“Me neither.” I land on a page with a feather-shaped mark that resembles the one on my wrist. “So this is where they got the information from?”
Kingsley pauses and moves back to look at the page. His brows crease, and then his gaze rises to me. “What is it?”
“It’s some sort of mark of death. I have a wound that looks like it on my wrist. I got it during the accident. On Death’s website and in a couple of emails, he said it’s the mark called the Sight of Fallen Darkness. People who get it have seen behind the veil of death and some have abilities, but they never specified what those abilities are. Maybe if we can decipher this page, we can figure out more.” My gaze flits from the page to him. “Do you have one?”
His throat muscles work as he swallows and nods. “I have a scar that looks like it on my back … It appeared after I … when I …” He shifts his weight. “After I died and came back to life.”
“I’m not surprised,” I say. “What I really want to know more about, though, are these abilities. Star said she could hear voices, and I can see the dead, but are those abilities?”
“They