The plastic spade grew and grew until it wasn’t plastic anymore, and it certainly wasn’t tiny. After a minute, it was a real spade.
Dimitri chuckled to himself again as he swung the spade around, almost as if he were checking to ensure it was sturdy. When he appeared satisfied, he plunged it into the freshly dug ground of the grave.
My heart lurched as I realized what was about to happen. It had been an academic fact until now, but now that fact clawed up my spine and shook my heart.
This man was going to dig up a dead body and chop off its finger.
I tried harder to pull free from the vision now, tried with all my might, but there was nothing I could do. I was locked into Dimitri’s head by the chanting, and unless I could control my own throat and scream out at the witches, there was no way I was going to get free.
So I remained there in horrified shock as he continued to dig.
He made light work of the process – he was a fairy, after all. It only took several minutes until he struck the coffin.
A satisfied grin spread across our faces. Yes, ours. The longer I spent inside his head, the more closely attuned I became to him. I could even sense his emotions now. His greed, his drive for power. Not once did a flicker of disgust cross through him. He was far, far beyond that. His heart pulsed with an eagerness to get the job done.
He discarded the spade, climbed on top of the coffin, and started to dig away the remaining dirt with his hands. It was collecting under his nails, dragging through his sleeves.
I had to get out. Had to get out. Had to get out!
Finally, he removed enough dirt that he could press his fingers forward and wrap them around the lid of the coffin.
He shifted it, started to open it—
No. I would not witness this. I couldn’t stay in this man’s ugly mind.
I fought against the chanting with all my might. Every scrap of determination I’d ever mustered.
I fought, almost as if I were clawing through water, trying to get to the air before I drowned.
And finally, finally something snapped.
Suddenly, I rocked back, my attention returning to my body.
I gasped and fell to my knees. I expected it to be over – expected the dream to fade. It didn’t. Not entirely.
I looked down, and I saw fresh wet dirt over my fingernails. I screamed. I screamed, and I screamed.
I jerked backward out of the circle of light, but the dirt did not disappear. It was still there, covering my hands just as the vision of that half-open coffin played through my mind.
“Whoa, hold on,” Bridgette said as she snapped towards me and grasped my shoulders.
“There’s dirt, god, there’s dirt.” I could barely control my voice, let alone draw in a breath long enough to stop myself from choking.
“Hey, calm down,” Bridgette stammered. Then she dropped her gaze and saw the dirt clogged underneath my fingers. “What the hell?”
“Why are you breaking the circle?” I heard Sarah Anne shout from the other end of the room.
My head was spinning. I could taste dirt in my mouth, feel it all over my body. A second later, I felt my hand reach for the spade to continue digging.
I fell down to my knees, these confusing sensations too much for me.
Bridgette fell with me, one hand still clamped on my shoulder, her worried gaze staring into my eyes. “Hey, it’s okay. But where the hell did that dirt come from? Sarah,” Bridgette called as she turned over her shoulder and screamed across the room, “break the circle. End the séance. Now. Do it now!”
Bridgette’s terrified shouts were obviously carrying, because a second later, I heard someone hammer at the door. “What’s going on in there?” Max’s unmistakable angry tones echoed through the room.
I jerked my head towards him as soon as I heard his voice. “Max!” I called. I didn’t say anything – couldn’t add anything as I desperately tried to claw the dirt from underneath my hands.
It didn’t matter.
He kicked the door open. I do mean kicked. Apparently, he didn’t have the time to reach forward, clutch a hand over the handle and twist. Nope. In one powerful move, he sent the door splintering on its hinges.
He shoved into the room.
I watched his eyes dart from left-to-right as he obviously searched for an enemy.
He skidded to his knees, reached me, and turned his suspicious gaze on Bridgette. Before he could conclude that she’d done anything to me, I brought my shaking hands up towards him. “He’s digging up a body. One of the dead witches. There’s dirt on my hands. It’s on my hands. It was a vision—” I didn’t get a chance to finish.
He reached towards me, grasped my hands, and stared at the dirt. It transferred onto his fingers.
It couldn’t be a vision – couldn’t be some magical trick of the light. The dirt was real. It was covering me like I’d been the one to carelessly dig up the dead.
I was shaking, shuddering, my shoulders feeling like they would dislodge from my back and fall into my lap with wet slaps.
“What’s happening? What’s happening?” I choked on my words.
Max took several seconds to stare at my hands before he tilted his head back. “Break the circle,” he commanded in a resounding
