There wasn't a lot of conversation as we walked back from the cemetery. I was still trying to process everything that had happened to me. My mind and body were very aware, not in a pleasant way, that Luke was only a few inches from me. When he held me in his arms before, my body hummed everywhere he touched me. Now all I could feel when he was near was uncontrollable fear.

The logical part of my mind knew it was crazy to fear him. Luke had never shown any violent tendencies toward me, not even when I first approached him about learning the Death Arts. He'd acted intimidating, but he never laid a hand on me. He'd shown me only compassion since I'd told him about my family. He'd only ever tried to help and comfort me since we had been thrown together. And yet, another part of me couldn't get the feeling of his hands around my throat out of my mind. I forced the image away.

I asked him to do it, to teach me the Death Arts, I reminded myself. The death dealers were feared for a reason, their rituals were barbaric, their magic powerful. No one should mess with the spirits of the dead. My shaking hand went up to touch the tender bruises at the base of my neck.

We crossed the stream. I could see the lights from Pagan's house ahead of us.

"Are you alright?" Out of nowhere, Luke stopped and turned toward me.

"I wish you'd stop asking me that." My voice was still coming out in a rasp.

"The ritual can be terrifying."

"Was it for you?" I asked.

"It was something I'll never forget. A moment like that never leaves you."

"And the person that did it to you, do you still see them?"

He nodded his head. "Yes. He is my mentor."

"How can you forgive him for what he did?" I demanded without thinking.

I hurt him with that question, I could tell. His eyes filled with a look of remorse when he answered. "By facing what happened and realizing it wasn't personal. He wasn't trying to hurt me. It was a necessary evil. I asked to be initiated into the Death Arts, and I had to accept all that came along with it." He looked up at the stars. "There's no good or evil to magic. Each person brings their own intentions, wishes, and dreams to it. Use it for the wrong purposes and it can become dangerous. It can get out of control; it can consume you in a way that you can't stop."

"And do you know this from personal experience?"

He looked at me again. "No. I never headed down that path. I always wanted to use my gifts to help people."

"Use death magic to help people?" It was a crazy notion.

He nodded his head. "Yes, it can be used that way." He abruptly changed the subject. "Now that you've done the first ritual, you'll be able to contact the dead, but killing you and bringing you back was only part of the ritual to claim your power over death. Next, you have to commune with the dead; the second ritual is possession."

"What do you mean...What will I have to—" I swallowed, unable to get the words out.

"Don't think of it now. We need to go back, and you need to rest. To get your strength back," he said.

I took a deep breath and then another. Possession. The word blazed through my mind.

His expression turned grim. "This next ritual is a hard one. It won't be pleasant or easy."

I couldn't keep the horror I was feeling from showing on my face. And dying was what? The easy part?

***

The clock on the nightstand blinked 3:00 a.m. Two hours had passed since we made it back to Pagan's house. Conversation had been minimal. I told Luke I was tired. It wasn't true—honestly, I didn't know what to say to him, and I was having a hard time meeting his gaze.

My body trembled every time he walked close by—and still not in the good way it had before. A fear was now rooted deep within me. Fear of a guy who never wanted to hurt me.

I kept telling myself that it was only part of the ritual. Neither one of us had a choice—we had to go through with it. I hoped if I repeated that fact enough times in my head, I would stop being afraid of him.

Luke had offered to sleep next to me again. I'd declined in a way that was not so gracious and obviously hurt his feelings. I could see the pain I was inflicting by shying away from him, but I couldn't seem to stop myself. Coming so close to death and seeing the other side had unnerved me in a way I couldn't really put into words.

I had hoped that by shutting myself away in Pagan's bedroom, I would be able to close my eyes and convince myself it had all been an unpleasant nightmare. But I lay there in the dark, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. Every time I was on the verge of sleep, I felt the sensation of his hands grasping my neck, tightening slowly and painfully. Each time it happened I bolted upright in bed, my heart pounding and tears streaming down my face.

Finally, I decided to give up on sleep. I wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and headed toward the kitchen. It would be daylight in a few hours. We would go to the market and get supplies and then spend the day resting before the next ritual. The next ritual. At the thought, my trembling hands tightened around the blanket.

Light from the fire cast shadows around the room. I could just make out the living room furniture and sidestepped my way around the couch and into the kitchen. I opened the nearest cupboard and pulled out a tall plastic glass, then moved to the sink and filled it. I was raising it to my mouth when a hand suddenly reached out of the darkness and grabbed my shoulder.

The glass dropped and bounced against the floor as I spun around, panicked. The overhead light flicked on. It was Luke standing beside me. At the sight of him, I instinctively took a step back.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" I asked, my breath coming out in a rush.

Luke moved toward me. "Another nightmare?"

I took another step away from him. "No. I couldn't sleep."

One more step in my direction and he had me cornered against the counter. My heart pounded in my chest.

His hand reached out, and he gently brushed a tear from my cheek. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

I tried not to shy away from him this time. I took a deep breath and met his gaze. "It's okay. I'm fine."

He squeezed my arm. "You're not fine."

"I am. I wish you'd stop fussing over me."

"You know I would never hurt you on purpose." His voice was low, and concern filled his eyes.

"I know you wouldn't," I answered, trying to keep the fear from my voice.

"But you're afraid of me?" Anger now filled those dark eyes.

"I don't want to be," I whispered.

He turned and started to walk away, but then spun on his heels and reached for me. He pulled me hard against him. His lips crushed down on mine.

For one moment the fear inside, me was replaced with something more powerful. A need, a desire filled me, and as he kissed me again, I found my lips answering his. I hadn't meant to kiss him back, but once I started, I couldn't stop. My arms came up and encircled his neck. The kiss deepened. His tongue was like velvet against mine. It felt so good to be in his arms. His hands came to rest at my back, and he pulled me closer.

We kissed again and again. His mouth broke away from mine, and his lips trailed down my neck. His right hand came up and glided down my throat, gently following his lips. Strong fingers brushed against the raw bruises on the surface of my skin.

He killed me. He strangled me! the words screamed across my brain.

Luke was unaware of the panic that began to fill me. He brought his lips back onto mine and kissed me again, but instead of kissing him back, I pushed hard against him. He stopped and took a step back, but he was still too close. I reached out and shoved his body back farther.

"Don't touch me," I said, my breath coming out in a harsh gasp.

Luke's eyes filled with confusion and then with realization. I expected him to get angry, but instead he looked helpless. We faced each other for several long minutes. Then he gave me a ghost of a smile, shrugging his shoulders before turning and walking away.

I was left alone in the kitchen. I suddenly felt extremely cold, but my body still burned everywhere that his skin and lips had touched mine.

I made my way back into the bedroom, tears streaming down my face. Tumbling back into bed, I wrapped the comforter tightly around my body and lay there sobbing, my body shaking as both fear and anger raged inside me. When I thought I couldn't shed another tear, my body and mind shut down. Finally, I was able to drift off to sleep.

But I was restless. I tossed and turned. Nightmares and horrific images of my family and Darla suffering kept jarring me awake.