How could Dean be the killer? I didn't sense any violence in him. Every chance he had; he did nothing but help me. I knew he cared about me. He openly worried about my safety. It was hard to believe he was possessed by the killer, but an evil spirit did fool his whole guild before.

Was I being fooled now?

Could Dean have put the heart in my room? I'd woken up in his arms. Was it possible he'd sneaked out and then come back? I was a sound sleeper. The nightmares of my family came less frequently. It was possible. "The last item we need to get is going to be a tricky one." Wendy stood next to me.

I forced myself to focus on what she was saying. "How do we get it?"

"Someone in here has a Ouija board."

Finally, a bit of good news. "Terrific."

"But they stashed it. Hid it in the old vacant part of the hospital."

The last place I wanted to go. "How are we going to justify being in there if we get caught?"

She didn't answer, looking off into the distance. After another moment, she whispered, "When you leave this place, will you take me with you?"

I stopped and faced her. "If you want to go, you can come with us. But if we don't make it, I'm not sure what the consequences will be."

"I've been through worse." She said it matter-of-factly, but I heard the underling sadness.

By her own admission, she'd spent years in hospitals. Years. I already felt this horrible place gnawing at the edges of my mind. How did a person keep their remaining sanity in a place like this? I looked down at the scars peeking out from beneath her sleeves. Maybe they don't. Maybe no one makes it out of a place like this whole.

I looked around the hallway. There was such an evil vibe in this building. I knew it was my imagination, but at times I swore I could almost feel the walls shifting, as if they were alive and breathing. No one should be trapped in here.

And what about Mildred? Where was she? Wherever she was, we had to find her. I'd made a promise to take her with me, and I planned to keep it.

"The crystal necklace will help us find Mildred?"

"It will when I use it with the map I got." Wendy pulled up a portion of her shirt, showing a piece of paper tucked against her stomach. "It's a layout of the whole building." She dropped her shirt back. "We should make a beeline for the Ouija board. But if we don't make it back in time for dinner, they'll notice us missing. We'll have to wait and go tonight when the staff is asleep or otherwise occupied. What should we do until then?"

I wasn't happy about waiting, but I didn't see that we had a choice. "Fancy a game of checkers?" I headed toward the common room.

* * *

Dinner was uneventful. Afterward, we headed back to our room and waited for the witching hour.

Feeling antsy and unsettled, I found myself pacing back and forth across the room. I desperately wanted out of this place, to be free again. I want my life back.

The thought stopped me cold. What life? I have no family to go back to, no home. The love of my life is trapped inside someone I now suspect may be a killer.

Uncertainty riddled the path ahead. Deep down, I was terrified of what might happen next.

So lost in my own thoughts, when Wendy tapped me on the shoulder, I physically jumped.

"It's time," she said.

We headed down the empty halls. We stopped at each corner, scouting each hallway like I always had with Mildred. I carefully unlocked each door as we went, trying to make as little noise as possible. The coast was clear, and if our luck held, we would make it to Luke's room without anyone spotting us.

Luke. I couldn't wait to feel his arms around me. I wanted desperately to tell him everything I now feared about Dean, but then Dean would know. If Dean was the killer and he knew we suspected him, it would put all our lives in danger. For the moment, I had to keep my fears to myself.

"Things seemed tense between you and Dean earlier." When I didn't say anything, Wendy went on. "You don't return his feelings?"

"I'm in love with Luke."

We walked along an empty hallway and paused at the corner. I peeked around it. Still no one in sight. There were so many things I wanted to know about Wendy. She kept bringing up my love life, so it only seemed fair I gave her back a little of her own.

"How about you? Is there anyone in your life?"

She raised an eyebrow.

I felt like an idiot. "I guess a hospital isn't the greatest place to find dates."

This time, she actually gave me a wide smile. It was a nice smile, and for a moment, I got a picture of what she might have been like if she'd been brought up in a normal, loving family. But then the smile disappeared, and her shoulders hunched.

Wendy seemed incapable of being happy. Whatever issues she had seemed all-consuming. I wondered just how badly the world had beaten her up. Terrible things had happened to me, and yet I still found moments of happiness with Luke.

She looked so uncomfortable that I took pity on her and changed the subject. "Have you spent much time in the vacant part of the hospital?"

Before she could answer, a male voice rang out. "What do we have here?"

The sound of the voice sent chills down my spine. The last person I wanted to see—Larry. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and faced him. He wore the same white uniform as the rest of the orderlies, but it stretched tightly across his huge gut. Stains, both old and new, spotted his paunch. And combined with his dark, stringy hair and cruel eyes, he was the perfect, disgusting example of everything that was wrong with this place.

His eyes narrowed, and he gave us a wicked grin. "Well, well, what are you two pretty ladies doing out of your rooms at this time of night?"

Every fiber in my being screamed at me to run, but I forced myself to stand my ground.

Wendy started edging toward the nearest door.

When neither of us answered, Larry laughed. "Tsk, tsk. You know you shouldn't be out." He took a step toward us.

"Don't touch us" I curled my hands into fists.

"And who's going to stop me?" he said, moving closer.

I could feel a wave of violence course through me. It warmed my blood and slid across my skin. Before, when he had attacked me, I hadn't been able to defend myself. I was no longer anyone's victim.

I am a death dealer.

"Look, we don't want any trouble." Wendy sounded scared.

"Course you don't. Because when you cause trouble, you know what happens to you." He gave me a wide smile as he sidestepped his way over to Wendy. The creep slid his finger down the soft, white skin of her arm. "I could go get my friend. Maybe we could show you two a good time."

Wendy flinched and flung herself away from him.

"Leave us alone." I felt hot all over, like I had a fever. The last time I'd felt this way, I'd summoned a magical fire forged from the dark, twisted violence the Awakening had opened up inside me. I'd used the fire against Macaven's banshees, and they had turned to ash.

What would happen if I used that same flame against a living person? It would be so easy to summon the flames. So easy to force out the fire and burn that grin off his face. No, I won't kill another person! my conscience screamed inside my head.

"Bit of a snooty one, aren't you? But very cute." He looked me up and down. "Maybe you should sweeten up. I bet we could have a lot of fun, the two of us."

My body strained with the effort of trying to control my rage. A wave of heat surged up inside me. I closed my eyes and used every bit of willpower I had to force it back.

It was no use. Flames flickered across my skin. Everything inside me screamed to let the monster loose, to bring death and destruction down on this pitiful excuse of a man.

I opened my eyes, and a scream of rage rang out—my scream of rage. I was yelling like a banshee, my hands raised high in the air. Orange and yellow flames danced between my fingers. All I had to do was wave my hands and the fire would explode.

And then I flew through the air, flung by a force that came out of nowhere, until my head abruptly smashed against the wall. It was like being rammed by a bull.

Stunned, I opened my eyes. Hank stood over me, his huge bulk taking up all the free space in the vicinity. I hadn't seen him come into the hallway. He'd rushed me like a football player and thrown me into the air.

My anger was gone. Now only pain and confusion rang through my head.

Larry leaned over and pulled me up against the wall. "Someone had to knock some sense into you. Now sweeten up, honey, and give me a little sugar."

Fear filled me. I tried desperately to think, but pain muddled my thoughts. My head throbbed, and I couldn't quite focus my eyes.

Larry dragged his hand up and down my side. He yanked my head back by my hair. Before I could do anything, his mouth came crashing down onto mine. I gagged as he forced his tongue into my mouth. His kiss was wet and sloppy, and he tasted like cigarettes and alcohol.

I struggled against him, trying to break free. Finally, he let me go. I cried out as I fell forward. My body hit the ground and my head bounced with a loud thud against the floor.

Stars flashed across my eyes. I looked up, trying to focus on Larry. He stood there; a hand wrapped around his forearm. Streaks of blood slid down his arm.

His whole focus centered now on Wendy. "You've got sharp nails, little girl."

Wendy stood a few feet from him, her hand raised as if to strike again.

Larry made a move toward her, and she let out a snarl and lunged forward. But before she could touch him, he slapped her hard across the face.

Her head whipped back with such force that I wondered if he'd killed her. She crumpled to the floor; the angry red imprint of Larry's hand visible against her pale skin.

She lay there, motionless.

Larry turned back to me, and I started to crawl away, still dazed and aching. Larry was quicker than he looked, and he grabbed my arm before I could get any distance between us. He twisted it hard and forced me back on my feet.

"Now, where was I?"

He shoved me back against the wall again and pressed against my front. He slid rough fingers across my lips and down my neck. Then he wrapped both hands around my throat. His began to squeeze.

I clawed at his fingers desperately. Am I about to die from strangulation for a second time? But his fingers tightened for a brief moment more before his hands moved. One came to rest on the naked skin just above the collar of my shirt. The other slid down to the waist of my pants.

I tried to kick and twist, but he just laughed and pushed me harder against the wall. The full length and weight of his body pressed against mine. "Come on. You know you'll enjoy it. Don't struggle, just relax and let it happen." His mashed his lips against mine and groped me.

Someone shouted, "Let her go!"

Larry kept a hold on me but turned his head.

I followed his gaze. Dean stood in the hallway, angry, those gray eyes full of violence. Dark eyes? That's not Dean. It's Luke!

Luke's fisted his hands by his sides. "I said let her go."

Larry released me, moving to face Luke. "Or what?"

I looked at Hank. He hadn't said a word since he'd sent me flying across the room. He just stood there, silently watching us.

A soft moan sounded to my right. Wendy was still lying on the ground, but her eyes were open. She was alive.

I scrambled over to her. "Are you okay?"

She didn't answer me. Instead, she watched the two men squaring off against each other.

"Look, boy. I don't want to hurt you." Larry was no longer smiling.

"If you touch her again, I'll kill you," Luke growled.

"Your girl and I were just having a conversation." Larry put his hands up in surrender. "You don't want to start any trouble with me. Not if you know what's good for you." Larry turned and puckered his lips at me, making kissing noises. "Besides, I don't see any harm in you sharing such a sweet piece of—"

Luke lunged.

Larry's fists came up, but before he could connect, Luke tackled him to the ground.

Larry struggled to get up, but Luke punched him in the face. Once, twice. Pure rage filled his eyes.

Larry's head whipped from side to side as Luke kept pounding him.

Then Hank made his move, grabbing Luke from behind. Hank was a big man, and he outweighed Luke by at least forty pounds. Hank's beefy arms wrapped around Luke in the bear hug he used to control patients.

Just like Hank had done with me the night of my ice bath, he squeezed. Luke's breathing grew labored, and his face turned pale.

Hank's going to squeeze Luke to death. I have to do something. I have to stop him.

I forced myself to my feet, stumbling forward, and clawed Hank's arm. I tried to pry him loose. And then Wendy was beside me. She had a heavy, old-fashioned tape recorder in hand and shoved it at me without a word.

Barton's tape recorder? I recognized it from our sessions. It was then I realized we were in front of the doctor's office, and the door was wide open. Wendy had found me a makeshift weapon. I looked at the recorder then swung it like a baseball bat into the back of Hank's skull.

Nothing happened, and for a moment I feared that I hadn't done any damage to the giant. And then, ever so slowly, Hank's arms loosened, and he slid to the ground.

I looked over at Larry. He lay unconscious on the ground as well, his chest still rising and falling. Luke hadn't killed him, and I honestly didn't know if I felt relief or disappointment.

Luke sat on his knees, gasping for breath. I knelt down in front of him and looked directly into his face.

"Are you alright?"

He nodded.

I covered his bruised knuckles with my own bruised hand. "I thought you were going to kill him."

His breathing had finally evened. "Colina, when I saw him touching you..."

"I'm okay," I whispered.

Luke gently touched my cheek. And then he rose to his feet and helped me stand with him. He slid an arm around my waist and pulled me tight against him.

I looked at the two men lying unconscious on the hallway floor. "What happens when they come to?"

"We'll find something to tie them up with. We can put them in an empty room or closet. With any luck, no one will stumble across them until we're out of here."

Wendy was leaning against the wall. "So, this is the boyfriend."

"Luke, this is Wendy. Wendy is a—"

"A reader. I know."

He surprised me. How did he know?

Luke let me go and walked over to Larry. "We'd better get them out of sight before someone comes along." He leaned down and grabbed Larry under the arms. "See if any of the rooms besides Barton's are unlocked."

I pulled out Mildred's keys. "I can open anything with these."

Luke dragged Larry down the hall and put him in the janitor's closet. It took all three of us working together to get Hank in the closet alongside Larry. Luke found a roll of duct tape on one of the shelves and used it to bind both men's hands and legs. And then he carefully put a strip of tape across each of their mouths.

He looked down at Larry's bloodied and beaten face. "I would've killed him." He grabbed my hand. "Are you sure you're, okay?"

I turned away and shuddered at the memory of Larry's sloppy kiss and groping. "I'm fine, honestly." I squeezed Luke's hand. "I don't want to think what would've happened if you hadn't come along."

Wendy looked down at Larry. Disgust filled her face. "He's forced himself on girls before." She answered before I could ask. "No, not me. I'm not his type. But another girl. He did things to her." Wendy kicked Larry between his legs with a crushing force. "Creep! You deserve to die."

I leaned into Luke. "How'd you find us?"

"Something pulled me here. Someone." Luke looked around. "There was a spirit in the room when I woke. It called to me, told me you were in danger and led me here to you."

"But how did you get out of your room?"

Luke pulled out something that looked like a hairpin. "Mildred sometimes comes to visit after you leave. She doesn't sleep much. She taught me how to pick locks."

I'd always assumed Mildred went back to her room after she dropped me off at mine. I couldn't help but smile at the image of her and Luke hanging out together, picking locks. "Did the spirit tell you anything else? Anything that would help us find the killer?"

He gave my hand another squeeze. "No, nothing about Dr. Barton—"

"I'm not sure it's the Doctor." He turned and looked at me. "I'm not convinced it's him."

"If not Barton, then who?" He looked at Wendy, then back to me. "Do you have any idea who else it could be?"

I couldn't meet his gaze. "Uh, we don't know. We can't get any answers from the spirits. They aren't coming to me. Wendy thinks they're frightened. She thinks the killer's spirit has dominated them, and he's made them too afraid to help us."

"We were coming to get you. We have to head to the old part of the hospital to get a Ouija board," Wendy added.

"What are you going to do with a Ouija board?" Luke asked.

"The spell you did at Pagan's house."

He looked dumbfounded. "You want to force a spirit forward?"

"It might be the only way to get some answers."

He shook his head. "It's too dangerous."

I touched his arm. "You can do it. You did it before."

"When I was myself. When I had my powers." He looked upset. "Now I'm stuck in this body. Dean never finished the rituals. He's wide open."

I gave him a reassuring smile. "I know you don't have your magic, but you're strong."

He looked scared. "The spell is dangerous. I could try to do the spell, but without my magic, without my normal control... I don't know what will come when I put out the call. If something comes that's evil, I don't know if I have the power to force it back."

"We have to find out who the killer is," I said.

"I thought you didn't care. I thought the plan was to get out of here."

I started to explain, "We aren't leaving—"

He raised his hand and stopped me. "Until tomorrow night, I know." He gave me an odd look.

I gasped. "How do you know?"

"I can hear things now..."

My stomach clenched.

He gave me a hard stare. "I can hear things going on around me when I'm not in control. Just bits and pieces, but I can hear."

"Since when?"

"Since the last time I surfaced."

I became acutely aware of Wendy watching us.

Did that mean he'd heard my conversation with Dean? Did he hear Dean proclaim his feelings for me?

My mind shied away from that disturbing possibility, and I quickly changed the subject. "You'll just have to trust me. It's really important we find out who the killer is before we go." I wanted to tell him why, to tell him that the killer could be inside him, maybe inside Dean. That I couldn't leave until I knew for sure. I couldn't take the chance and release something evil into the world again.

"We should get going," Wendy said. She looked down at Larry and gave him one last kick before she headed out the door.

"We have a lot of things to talk about," Luke said while giving me another hard stare.

I nodded. I haven't done anything wrong, I reminded myself. I can't help the way Dean feels about me.

Then why do I feel so guilty?

* * *

We were almost to the vacant part of the hospital when Luke suddenly stopped. "The electricity no longer works in that part of the hospital. We can't go in there without flashlights." He held out his hand. "Give me the keys. I'll go back and rummage through some of the supply cupboards. I'll see if I can find some flashlights or candles."

I handed over the keys.

"Stay out of trouble until I get back." He leaned in and gave me a kiss.

I kissed him back, and when we broke apart, I looked deeply into those gray eyes. I didn't see anger or judgment, so Luke wasn't mad at me. When we were alone again, I would try to explain what happened.

Wendy and I stood in the hallway, waiting. Luke took so long to come back that I started to worry. I gave a loud sigh of relief when I finally saw him walking toward us, two flashlights in hand.

"I could only find two." He handed one over to Wendy.

"You were gone a long time," I said.

"Sorry about that. It took me forever to find these."

We made our way down the hall and then up a set of stairs through another long hallway until we finally pushed through a set of doors and found ourselves at the entrance of the old wing of the hospital. I realized that it had taken almost no time at all to get there, and we hadn't gotten lost once.

Normally, I was always losing my way. The hospital always seemed to be fighting me. Why did I suddenly find it easy to navigate?

"Do you know where you're going?" I asked Wendy.

Wendy nodded. "I do. There's a place not far from where patients stash stuff. Things they don't want the staff to find."

We came upon a door. On the wall next to it was a painted crescent moon with a few stars scattered around.

Wendy pointed at the drawing. "This is it. Silva's sign. She said to look for the same mark inside, but high up on the wall. She hid the board in one of the air ducts."

The room was huge. Pieces of moldy plaster dangled from the ceiling, hanging from bundles of wire and broken ducts. Obviously, there had been a leak in this part of the building at one point or another, but it seemed dry now. Broken and discarded junk littered the room, making it hard to pick any one thing out of the jumble. I went with Luke, and Wendy moved to the other side of the room.

Luke's light slid across the wall. "Not over here," he called out.

Wendy shouted in excitement. "Found it!"

Luke and I joined Wendy. About five feet above our heads was an air duct grate with a small crescent moon and stars painted next to it.

"How does she get up there?" I looked around for something to stand on. The room was full of old furniture and equipment. It would be easy enough to stack some things on top of one another and make a makeshift ladder.

Before I could suggest it, Wendy looked at Luke. "Can you give me a boost?"

He cradled his hands. Wendy stepped into his makeshift step, and he gently lifted her into the air.

She steadied herself against the wall as she rose, pulled off the grate in front of the duct, and handed it down to me. Then she reached in and pulled out a large blue plastic shopping bag. Luke gently lowered her down.

Wendy put the bag on the ground and rifled through it. "Success." She pulled out a large piece of white silk, unwrapped it, and revealed the Oujia board. She wrapped the board back up, pushed it back into the bag, and handed it over to Luke.

"We'll do the spell and hopefully get some answers," I said.

Luke tucked the bag under one arm. "I'll need the medallion."

"I don't have it. Last time I saw it, it was in the tub underwater, lying next to Dean."

Luke looked thoughtful. "It might be in Barton's office."

I turned to Wendy. "If it's not, can you find us a medallion?"

Wendy shrugged. "I can ask around, but if no one has one stashed somewhere in here, it could take days before we can get it smuggled in."

"We don't have days. We're leaving tomorrow night. We have to do the spell tonight."

Luke put a hand on my shoulder. "We'll search Barton's office. If one of the staff found it, I'm betting they would give it to him."

Wendy pulled out the paper she had tucked against her stomach.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

She looked around the room. "This is as good a place as any to find your friend. At least here we don't have to worry about a nurse walking in." She carefully unfolded the paper.

I had forgotten all about Mildred. Again.

Wendy pulled the crystal necklace from her pocket. "It's a layout of the hospital. You can really get anything in here if you know the right people to ask."

"How does it work?" I asked.

"I hold onto the necklace by the chain and hang it over the paper. I ask where Mildred is, and I slowly move the crystal across. The crystal will start to move in a circle as I get close to her location. When I'm directly over where she is being held, the crystal will start spinning fast."

I had never seen this done before. I leaned closer.

Wendy closed her eyes and whispered a few words then blinked her eyes open. "It's a prayer of sorts." She looked at both of us. "Now think of Mildred. Picture her in your minds." She moved the crystal slowly over the paper.

Nothing happened. She moved it from one side to the other then slid it up higher and did it again. It took five passes back and forth before the chain started to vibrate.

"We're getting warmer." She moved the crystal slowly along. It crystal started to twirl in a circle, and as she moved it farther down the paper, it started to spin. "Bingo." She put her finger on the map.

I stared. "East wing, in one of the padded cells on the right-hand side of the hall, toward the back." I looked over at Luke. "They must have caught her roaming the halls that night we went to your room. But why keep her in there all this time?" And how did her things end up on my bed?

"Maybe she wigged out when they grabbed her. Dr. Barton doesn't like it when patients go ballistic on him. He tends to keep them in lockdown forever."

"Is that why you were in solitary?" I asked.

"I had a bit of a breakdown." She looked away.

Wendy had spent months in a padded room without anyone to talk to. Without any outside stimulation. How did she not lose herself? I only hoped that, when we finally got to Mildred, she hadn't lost what little was left of her mind. She had told me she'd been in solitary once before, and it had driven her mad.

There was a loud bang. I looked up and watched as a tree branch swung against the window. The wind had picked up outside. I heard it roaring louder and louder, and then the sound of raindrops hitting glass echoed across the room.

"A storm's brewing outside."

"Looks like a bad one." Luke walked over to the window.

It was too bad we weren't making our escape tonight. The storm might have worked in our favor. We could've made a run for it and used the rain as cover, which would have made it harder for anyone to see us crossing the yard.

A bright flash lit up the room, followed by a loud crash of thunder then lightning. I was glad we weren't out there. Climbing an electric fence was the last thing I wanted to do with lightning striking.

Luke started folding up the map.

The crystal in Wendy's hand jerked then swung and slowly lifted in the air until it hung at a right angle.

"What the heck?" Wendy held onto the chain as it swayed and pulled. It then turned and pointed down to a part of the map still open. The chain snapped, and the crystal came down with a clatter.

I read the words under it. "Infirmary. Why did it do that?"

Wendy shook her head, her eyes wide.

"I think we're here," she said, pointing to a place not far from the infirmary. "We might as well check it out while we're close. It might be one of your ghosts trying to show us something."

We made our way down the hall. According to Wendy's map, the infirmary was just around the corner.

The place was empty and dark. The glow from the flashlights swung back and forth across the floor as we walked. Without warning, goose bumps rose on my arms. Something's not right.

"You feel that?" I asked Luke.

He nodded.

Wendy cocked her head to the side. "Do you hear it?"

I listened, but I could only hear the storm raging outside. "What?"

Wendy didn't answer, hearing something I clearly couldn't.

Then Luke's flashlight started to flicker. And then so did Wendy's.

He shook his flashlight. "Batteries must be getting low."

Another chill lifted goose bumps along my skin, and I knew there was something else going on besides the batteries. We made it to the door of the infirmary. All three of us stood in front of the large metal doors. The air suddenly felt heavy and ominous.

I looked over at Luke. He was frowning. Wendy had a spaced-out expression on her face.

I intended to push my way into the room.

Wendy put her hand on mine. "Wait. You don't want to do that."

"Why not?"

She didn't answer.

I looked back at Luke.

He had a grim expression on his face and moved next to me. "Open it."

I shook Wendy off, pushed open the door, and took a step inside.

I'd seen this room before. It looked exactly like it had in my vision. Red symbols decorated the walls and the floor. There was a pentagram in the middle of the floor and black candles surrounded it, their flames flickering in a breeze that whistled through a crack in one of the windows. The rain pounded against the panes of glass, and the wind roared so loud it sounded like a freight train.

I stared at the middle of the pentagram.

There was something there, lying on the floor at its center.

"What—?" I took a step forward, but Luke grabbed me by the shoulder and shoved me back behind him.

"It's Larry," he said.

"Larry? I don't understand. We left him in the closet."

Luke stepped just outside the pentagram. He leaned forward a bit but made a point of keeping his body from crossing over the pentagram's threshold. "It's Larry. He's dead."

I found myself moving forward until I stood next to Luke. I looked down into the circle. Oh, Goddess. Larry's body lay there, his legs twisted at an unnatural angle and his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were closed. He looked like he might be sleeping except that a wicked gash crossed his neck, a deep cut where someone had slit his throat.

A trail of blood ran from the pool by his throat to the wall. Someone had killed him and then used his blood to paint the symbols on the wall. We were standing in the room I'd seen in my visions, the one holding the killer.

He'd stood in this very circle.

A soft noise filled the room, slowly increasing in volume. I looked behind me. Wendy stood in the doorway, and her eyes rolled back in her head. A gurgling noise came out of her mouth. She swayed back and forth, and as she did, the noise got louder. She started to keen, singing out.

Luke grabbed my hand. "We need to get out of here."

The words had barely left his mouth when a flash of lightning hit, followed a few seconds later by a loud crash of thunder. As the thunder echoed in the room, Luke's flashlight went out. And then so did Wendy's. The only light came from the candles.

I heard a sort ofswooshing sound and watched in horror as the flames flickered wildly, and thenwent out.

****