A pounding at my door forced me upright. Light streamed through the windows. The clock on the bedside table now showed 1:00 p.m. I had slept ten hours, but I didn't feel refreshed. I felt physically and mentally exhausted.

The door slowly opened to reveal Luke in the doorway, a plate in his hand piled high with pancakes and bacon.

"Hi," he said, stepping into the room, his expression guarded.

"Hi," I answered back.

"You can sleep more if you like. I just wanted to check on you." He lifted the plate. "I thought you might be hungry since you didn't eat last night."

"I am."

Instead of handing me the plate, Luke walked over and put it on the dresser. He returned to the open door and stopped just inside the doorway. "I went to the market earlier. I didn't want to wake you. Did you sleep well?"

"Not really, but I'm okay."

He nodded but didn't move or say anything else.

I felt self-conscious as I got out of bed and got the food and then settled back on the edge of the bed.

He still stood there looking at me in silence.

I took a bite of bacon and mouth still full mumbled, "It's good, thanks."

I could tell by his expression there was something he wanted to tell me, but he just stood, silent, watching me. What is he waiting for me to do? Probably scream at him to get out and close the door behind him.

He didn't want to hurt me, I reminded myself yet again.

I forced a smile onto my face. "So, what's the plan for the day?"

"When I was at the market, there was talk..." He hesitated.

"Talk about what?"

"A girl was drowned a few days ago in a lake not far from here. We could go check it out."

I stared at him in shock.

"It's not Darla," he whispered.

"If Darla is alive and we are on a mission to save your sister, shouldn't our focus be on the rituals?" At the last word, my hand unconsciously reached up to touch the dark bruises on my neck.

Luke's eyes followed the movement. At the sight of the bruises, he flinched and looked away. "Yes, but the other night when those men attacked us, there were spirits in the room."

I nodded my head. "The ones you called, the banshees? I saw them."

He took a step forward. "No, not the spirits doing my bidding. There were others—spirits full of unrest called out to me. They were tied to the attackers. They were calling for vengeance. They whispered of murder, of being bound and then drowned."

"Bound and then drowned? You mean like the people the Redeemers have killed?" I was truly shocked by what he was saying. If he had felt these other spirits and they had told him things about the men that attacked us, why hadn't he mentioned it? Why was he just telling me all this now? "You think those men are Redeemers? You think they killed my family? Killed all those innocent people?" But they couldn't be Redeemers, it didn't make sense. "The men that attacked us were mage-born. No way could they be involved with the Redeemers." He knew as well as I did that the Redeemers despised anything to do with magic, which meant they hated all mage-born with a deep passion.

Luke's expression turned grim as he answered. "I don't know what's going on, but we can't do the next ritual until the witching hour, and the lake is only a short drive from here."

"You want to go investigate? And what, hope to see the spirit of the dead girl?" I asked, afraid to hear his answer.

He nodded. "If she was murdered and is wandering the ether sea in a state of unrest, there's a chance she'll come to me."

"And if she does?" The idea of calling on spirits still made my skin crawl.

"Maybe we can get some answers."

I didn't want to go, but what was my other option? Sit around all day feeling scared and freaked out as I waited for the clock to tick away until midnight? There was another nightmare ritual heading my way and the last thing I wanted to do was sit around and dwell on it.

I raised a piece of bacon and tried to give him a smile. "I'll finish eating and get ready."

But the moment Luke walked out and closed the door, my appetite vanished. I put down the plate, got up, and started pacing the room.

Now that I had seen the other side, did that mean I could communicate with the dead? I tried to imagine driving to the lake and seeing the dead girl's ghost pop up. I shuddered at the thought. Dealing with spirits was no big deal to Luke, but the only spirits I had ever seen were the banshees he had summoned. Luke said the next trial was "possession." It made sense; the whole point of me dying and coming back was so that I could communicate with spirits. But I didn't know if I was ready to face the spirit world.

I stopped pacing and looked out the window, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. What if my family came back to me and they had faces like Luke's banshees? I tried to shake the image of my mother's eyes filled with suffering and pain.

I clenched my fists and forced myself to think of the men who killed her. They needed to pay for destroying my world and killing my family. Revenge. It was what I wanted most in the world, and if it was going to happen, I needed to stay strong. I opened my eyes and straightened my shoulders.

I had died and come back—I could talk to spirits. I could do this.

I can do this.

I turned and headed toward the closet. I needed to get dressed and prepare myself for what came next. As I started to pull out clothes to wear, I whispered to the empty room, "Undead, unsettled...ready or not, here I come."