I shook my head, trying to make sense of what the child had said. I raised trembling hands to my face, turned, and looked at Luke. "The boy, Thomas, he didn't try to possess me."

"Most won't. They want only to be seen and acknowledged." His hand came up and gently brushed my hair out of my face. "The ones that possess have a powerful need. They weren't ready to die and will do anything to try and make it back into this world."

"And what happens when they take over a person and you can't get them out?"

"Usually, it's when they jump into someone who has natural abilities, but no idea how to use them. These people are unprepared for the assault, and when it happens, they're pushed back and left helpless. Trapped."

A shiver ran down my spine at the very thought. "And the spirits stay inside them forever?"

His expression turned grim. "The spirits use these unsuspecting people, these vessels, to make their way through the world. How long they stay depends on how strong they are." Luke's fingers wrapped around mine. "Your hand is freezing. When spirits come forth, they tend to bring down the temperature. How about some hot chocolate or tea to help warm you up?"

I didn't want him to move away. It felt good having his body close to mine. I gave him a smile. "Tea sounds good."

He let go of my hand and made his way back into the kitchen. I followed behind.

He grabbed an electric kettle off the counter and started filling it with water from the sink. "And those that don't have full control of their faculties," he said abruptly. Luke turned off the faucet, plugging in the now full kettle before pointing toward the cupboard. "Grab a couple mugs, will you? Spirits can possess people who don't have full control of their conscious mind. Those folks are always on the edge of reality anyway. And those who are on the edge can be easily manipulated by the dead."

I opened the cupboard and pulled out two red mugs. "How can you tell if you meet someone who's possessed? Someone who has a spirit commanding them?"

He pulled out two bags of tea from a canister on the countertop. "You can tell sometimes, but not always. You can feel the wrongness inside them. You feel it in your gut."

I set the mugs down in front of him. "But this spirit, the one that just came to me, you've met him before?"

"He's a young child whose family used to live here." Luke pointed toward the floor. "Not in this barn, but on this same piece of land years ago, before a barn was here. He died of a fever. He's bound to this particular spot."

"And he can't go to the light?" I asked.

Luke shook his head. "No." Luke gave me a wry smile. "We share our space with spirits all the time."

I looked around the room, a feeling of dread filling me. Would another spirit pop out at any minute? "Do they always contact you when they're around?"

He shook his head. "Not always."

"But you know when they're around? When they're in the room?" I asked as I scanned the kitchen. It was no longer cold, and I felt normal.

"Yes, I can always feel their presence," Luke said.

For the rest of my life, I'd be bombarded with spirits. I was having a hard time wrapping my mind around it. "And what do you do if you don't want to communicate with them, but they want to talk to you?"

He put a tea bag in each mug, reached over, and grabbed the kettle. He slowly filled each cup with hot water. "You learn how to tune out, how to sort of turn it off. That works in most cases, but if a spirit is strong enough—desperate enough—to communicate with you, it will."

My hands went to my head again. I'll be like this forever. Any place I walk into now, I'll see spirits.

My life just turned into a new type of nightmare.

Luke turned and gave me a reassuring smile. "I promise it gets easier with practice. It's something you grow accustomed to."

I looked at him like he'd lost his mind. I couldn't imagine ever getting used to talking to the dead.

"Have you felt anyone from your family since last night?"

His question caught me by surprise. "No."

"It's easier at night, when the world is quiet and people settle down, to hear spirits. We'll see if they come to you tonight." He handed me a mug.

I wrapped my fingers around it. It was warm and felt good against my cold skin. I took a sip and looked at Luke over the rim. "And if they don't?"

He leaned against the counter. "I have to believe they'll come to you. It's the only way we'll find Darla." He sounded so sure of himself.

"And the last ritual?" I whispered.

He gave me a look devoid of emotion and said, "I'm working on it."

"We can't get it done tonight?" I wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

"I don't have what I need for it yet, but I will soon."

I wanted to ask him what he was waiting for, what new, horrifying situation I was going to find myself in, but I couldn't force the words out.

"Before I forget." Luke put his mug down, reached into his pocket, and pulled out the traveler's pouch. The last time I'd seen the pouch, I was setting it on the bed after he told me I couldn't use it to protect myself during the possession. Why did he have it now?

"Until you learn how to protect yourself, this will keep you closed off. It will keep anything from trying to possess you."

I reached for it, but he pulled it away. "The thing is, we want your family to contact you. You need to stay open, so I don't want you to use it yet." He put the pouch down on the counter. "But later I'll need you to carry it with you."

"What's the plan for the day?"

"We're heading to the hospital." Luke said.

I stared at him. "Are you okay? Are you feeling sick?"

He gave me a reassuring smile. "I'm fine. There's just an errand I have to run and someone I have to see. Drink your tea, it's getting cold."

There was something off about his expression when he answered the question. I'd been with him long enough now that I was able to read his body language and moods. I had the strongest feeling he wasn't telling me the whole truth.