Page 117 of The Diamond in the Rough
And passed out again.
When I slithered back into consciousness once more, I did my very best to not even think about moving my arm.
I reached out with the other, finding the curving arc of the wall not far behind me. Feeling the rounded-rectangular shape of bricks and mortar.
And then I reached too far, and pain washed over me as my other arm shifted.
Panting, I lay still, knowing that this was where and how I was going to die.
I tried to find enough strength to call for Sylvia. Or Archie. Or anyone dead who might be even remotely near by.
While there was a faint tickle of magic in my gut, I didn’t have enough to summon even the ghost of a bug who haddied in the mud of the well. Not that that was actually possible.
I could feel the warmth of tears tracking their way out of my eyes.
I didn’t want to die.
Especially not like this, and not here.
I didn’t want to just disappear, no one knowing where I was or the fact that I’d been murdered, much less by whom.
And then I realized how foolish a thought that was. I might not have enough power left to summon a ghost for help, but when Ididdie, I could absolutely find Ward and tell him what had happened.
That was a small comfort, at least.
A very small comfort.
I was absolutely going to haunt Garraway. And the man he’d called Philip. And probably also Gennaro.
I’d give them nightmares?—
Nightmares.
I tried Ward first.
Then Mason.
Then Hart.
Beck.
Violette.
None of them were asleep.
I’d promised… but…
I just had to hope he’d forgive me.
He was already looking around,his movements urgent and agitated, by the time I pushed through the heavy limbs of the willow.
“I’m sorry,” I gushed out. “I know I promised but?—”
“Rayn!” He ran up to me, his hands grabbing my arms hard—fingers biting into my biceps.
I winced in spite of myself, even though my dream arm wasn’t as mangled as my real arm must have been. I wasn’t actually asleep or unconscious—yet—and I could still feel the sharp-throbbing-nauseating pain.
“I’m sorry.” He let go of me.
