Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 102280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
She closed her eyes.
The technique was dangerous. Emmeline had warned her repeatedly about dropping every barrier at once, about opening herself completely to the spiritual realm without protection. It left her vulnerable, exposed, at risk of being overwhelmed by the weight of so many voices crying out for vengeance.
But it was also the only way to send a call strong enough to pierce through stone and storm.
Brooks. Northeast junction. Two armed men. Gerald Aldrich. Need you now.
The message tore through her like lightning, pulling energy from reserves she didn’t know she possessed. She felt it reach him—not like words traveling through air but like a door opening between minds, a moment of perfect connection that transcended distance.
And with her barriers down, every spirit in these tunnels flooded in.
They weren’t gentle. Lily Morgan’s fury, seventeen years old and burning with righteous anger. Cordelia’s grief over the daughter she’d left behind. Josephine’s determination. Mathilde’s fierce protectiveness. A customs inspector murdered in 1923. A journalist drowned in 1967. A federal agent whose car went off a cliff in 1997. All of them pressing against the veil, demanding to be acknowledged, demanding justice.
Vivienne’s eyes snapped open.
The temperature in the junction plummeted. Frost formed on the walls despite the flooding water. The spirits were manifesting, making themselves known not just to her but to everyone present.
Gerald’s weapon trembled. “What the hell—”
“They’re here,” Vivienne said softly. “Every person you murdered. Every life you destroyed to protect your empire. They’ve been waiting for this moment.”
Jeremy backed against the wall, his face pale, his weapon lowering. “I didn’t—I wasn’t—”
“Quiet!” Gerald snapped, but his voice shook. She saw the fear creeping into his expression as the temperature continued to drop, as the water around them began to steam from the temperature differential, as shapes formed in the mist—translucent figures that pressed closer with every heartbeat.
“This is insane,” Gerald said, but his hand shook so badly he couldn’t aim.
“This is justice.”
From somewhere in the passages behind them, she heard Brooks’s voice shouting her name. He was coming. He’d heard her call and he was coming.
She just had to hold on a little longer.
The spirits pressed closer, their combined rage a palpable force in the confined space. Gerald raised his weapon with both hands, trying to steady it. Jeremy had dropped his gun entirely, his back pressed against the wall, staring at the manifestations with wide, terrified eyes.
“You think ghosts will save you?” Gerald forced the words through clenched teeth. “They’re not real. This is just tricks.”
“Believe what you want,” Vivienne said. “But you can’t escape what you’ve done. Not anymore.”
The sound of running footsteps echoed through the passages. Multiple sets, coming from different directions.
Gerald’s eyes darted, calculating his odds. The water was still rising. The temperature was still dropping. The spirits were still pressing closer. And now armed officers were converging on his position.
He’d run out of options.
“Drop your weapons!” Brooks’s voice rang through the corridor as he emerged from the darkness, his own weapon trained on Gerald. Behind him came Sullivan and two deputies, all armed, all focused.
The standoff lasted three heartbeats. Then Gerald’s nerve broke. He lunged forward, weapon raised, choosing to go down fighting rather than face arrest.
Brooks fired. The shot was precise, disabling rather than killing. Gerald went down into the water, clutching his shoulder, his weapon spinning away into the current.
Jeremy raised his hands immediately, surrendering without a fight.
Sullivan moved in quickly, securing Gerald with practiced efficiency. The younger man was cuffed. Gerald, still bleeding into the water, received first aid from one of the deputies.
Brooks moved to Vivienne’s side, his hand finding her arm. “Are you hurt?”
“Exhausted and my ears are ringing.” Her voice came out as barely more than a whisper. The effort of calling to him, of maintaining contact with so many spirits at once, had drained her completely. “Melissa?”
“I’m sorry for firing my gun so close to you.”
“It’s okay.”
Melissa’s safe. We found her before they could get her out of the tunnels.”
“They found her?”
Brooks nodded. “But she’s safe. She told me what you did. Careless, but we can talk about that later. Come on.”
Relief made her knees weak. Brooks’s grip tightened, supporting her weight.
Around them, the spirits were fading. With the Aldriches captured, with justice finally within reach, their urgent desperation was easing. Vivienne felt them withdrawing, their presence becoming gentler, less demanding.
Lily’s spirit lingered longest. Through the thinning veil, Vivienne felt gratitude, relief, and something like peace. Twenty-five years of waiting, twenty-five years of calling out for someone who could hear, were finally ending.
Thank you, the spirit whispered. Tell my mother I love her. Tell her I can rest now.
“I will,” Vivienne promised.
The temperature began to rise. The frost on the walls melted, running down to join the rising water. The manifestation was complete. The dead had borne witness, and now they could finally let go.