Ghosts of July (Shamans of the Divide, Book 1)

Chapter Twenty-eight

The thing about realizing you're staring death in the face is that you get this wicked sense of clarity.

In that moment of suspended time—me floating through the air above the geothermal water cave and the ancient demon digging a claw into my leg dragging, pulling me out of the air—I knew a couple things.

The first—I loved my Nana more than anything or anyone in the world.

I'd always known she was special and that we shared a special bond, but in that moment when I knew I had no future, I wanted nothing more than to tell her how much I loved her. And her stupid dog, Muffin.

The second—I wasn't afraid of death. Not like I thought I'd be. I was more worried about how my grandmother would react and who would help her out at the stupid diner that was sure to kill her sooner or later.

That it's—that was my clarity. I loved my Nana and death wasn't so big and bad after all.

I wasn't expecting to get anywhere near the other side of the giant hole that was the entrance to the Dull Blade. Honestly, I was waiting for the splash and the sickening feeling of that hot water as I got pulled under.

Imagine my surprise, then, when the upper half of my torso actually did collide with the ground and I was too surprised and had the wind so violently knocked out of my chest that I didn't immediately grasp the dire nature of my situation. I sort of opened my eyes for the briefest of moments and it was then, when I saw the ground start to slide away from me, that I realized that maybe I ought to grab on to something, anything, and keep up the fight.

And so I fought.

I wrapped my fingers around a thick-stumped bush and I kicked with my free leg at the piece of crap dzoavit who was shredding my left leg. I wasn't damaging it in the least. I wasn't even slowing my descent down, but I was pissed off and I didn't want to die crying in fear. Something about being angry made this whole thing easier—I was mad.

I was mad that I'd have a disfigured leg from this day forward and never wear a dress or strappy sandals without remembering these amazingly annoying demons.

 I was mad that my life shifted upside down and my mom had everything to do with it.

I was mad that my idiot ex-boyfriend was probably an idiot the whole time and I never wanted to admit it to myself—making me the biggest idiot of all.

I was mad that I didn't bother to make a new plan for my future when I realized things were headed south with Taylor—and I was even more mad that I'd based my entire collegiate hopes and aspirations on being his girlfriend.

I was mad that suddenly I saw ghosts at their leisure and now I had no privacy.

I was mad that the council didn't trust me and had nearly gotten us all killed.

And I was mad at Renn.

I was mad at Renn for being able to feel this insane connection between us and still be able to keep his distance.

I was mad that I couldn't do the same thing.

I guess the dzoavit grew impatient waiting for me to finish my goodbyes because it started yanking, hard, and hissing all sorts of screams and shrieks that could wake the dead. Assuming that all of the former dead in Shades hadn't already woken up in the past few days and formed a line outside my house for help.

My grip weakened along with the root system of the bush, and just like Skye had a couple hours earlier, I found myself and the bush I was anchored to, sliding down into the hole. Renn, in all reality, was still unconscious back at his bike if he'd survived the fall in the first place.