This time our journey back was much more cautious. We peeked through every door, crept around corners, and moved down the hallways at a quick, quiet pace, hugging our bodies against the walls as we went.

Mildred whispered, "Just keep your ears open, child. Mine aren't so good anymore. If you hear anyone coming, let me know."

The hallways were deserted, all the patients locked away. We weren't supposed to be out. If someone saw us, there would be no talking our way out of it. But Mildred knew every closet, every supply cupboard, every nook and cranny we could hide in if someone from the night staff appeared.

That is, if we heard them coming and if they didn't spot us before we had a chance to dive for cover.

She looked back and whispered, "If they catch us out here, you know they'll make us pay. The night crew is more sadistic than the day staff. They're mean. Mean like snakes, I say." She started to hum to herself then stopped abruptly. Her eyes filled with sadness. "I don't know if I ever told you, but I did a stretch in solitary once. I almost lost my mind."

A chill ran down my back at her words. Solitary. A padded room. Maybe restraints. I wanted no part of it.

We turned a corner, slowly, as Mildred peeked around to make sure the coast was clear.

We'd barely cleared the corner when I heard loud footsteps behind us. I grabbed Mildred's shoulder, spinning her around and gesturing wildly behind me.

She grabbed my arm, pulling me quickly down the hallway and around another corner to a closed door. She took out her keys, found the master, and opened the door. She shoved me inside before stepping in and gently closing the door behind her.

We stood in the dark of what appeared to be a janitor's closet, huddled together. I could see the light from the hallway peeking under the door. The footsteps got louder. Heavy boots hit the floor. A large shadow passed by, blocking out the light for a moment. I held my breath.

No one came in. The person kept moving.

I let my breath out in a loud gush. Relief flooded through me. I put my hand on the knob and Mildred smacked it back. Before I could ask what she was doing, she put her finger to my lips. Then I heard it—more boots. Heavier thumping. A bigger shadow passed by this time.

Mildred whispered in my ear, "They always travel in pairs at night."

Minutes passed by. When I didn't think I could take being cooped up in the dark, small space any longer, Mildred turned opened the door. The hallway light spilled into the closet.

She gestured to me. "Come, child, we have to sprint the rest of the way. They'll be back before long."

For a woman her age, she was surprisingly fast. I had a hard time keeping up with her as we raced down the hall and then down some stairs. My newly returned memories gave me at least a general idea of where we were going, but it still seemed like the old building was trying to trap us. Hallways that I could have sworn would take us back to our rooms dead ended in dark walls. Pathways I didn't recognize appeared in areas where I remembered non existing before. When faced with one of these, Mildred would shake her head and mumble to herself for a second before jogging on with a surety I didn't share. To my surprise, we suddenly found ourselves in front of my room.

"Here we are, safe and sound. I doubt they'll come this far tonight. I smelled coffee brewing when I passed the cafeteria earlier." She patted my arm. "Get some sleep. Nighty-night. Don't let the bed bugs bite."

I stood there in the doorway, watching her walk away. Don't let the bed bugs bite. It was something my brother used to say to me when we were both kids. A sob escaped. James. I raised a trembling hand to my head as the memory came rushing back, fresh as ever. My brother was worse than lost to me.

A demon had taken his soul.

A demon I had freed.

* * *

Morning came too soon. Caroline, a young nurse only a few years older than me, woke me and told me she was there to escort me to breakfast. I got ready and followed her out of the room. Apparently, I was going to have a personal escort with me wherever I went. I wondered for how long.

They left most of the areas around the hospital unlocked during the day, especially the well-traveled paths. It was supposed to be a low security rehab center, after all. It was only at night that the place went into lockdown. They packed our schedules, but we were free to move from place to place on our own in the daytime—at least, those of us considered not so troublesome. The staff escorted some of the more difficult patients for their own safety.

And now they considered me one of the more troublesome ones, thanks to Morgana.

We pushed through the cafeteria doors, and as usual, the place was packed. I saw a nurse feeding Dean on the other side of the room. I spotted the nervous reader, Andrew, at one of the tables, shifting his milk carton back and forth across his tray. I grabbed a red tray and stood in line. When it was my turn, I dutifully passed it to the women serving food, and they spooned out generous helpings of scrambled eggs and bacon. I grabbed a carton of milk and plastic cutlery and made my way to a table by the nearest window.

It was a beautiful day outside. I looked out at the cloudless blue sky and for the zillionth time wished I wasn't in here. I didn't want to hear the low murmurs of the other patients sitting at the tables around me. I wanted to be out there, free. More than anything, I wanted to be out there with Luke.

I ate until I was full and slipped a packet of salt into my pocket. I got up and piled my tray with the others on a metal cart sitting against the wall.

Today, like every day I spent in here, would be filled with extreme boredom. Nurse Caroline waited for me outside the cafeteria. She followed me into the commons area. Thankfully, my shadow didn't follow me across the room but instead sat at a table by the door.

Apparently, I was free to roam around as long as I was under her watchful eye. I spotted Dean in his wheelchair over by a window. Dressed in a hospital gown, he had a blanket across his legs. I walked over to him and sat down in a nearby chair.

No one was within earshot. I leaned in and whispered, "Luke, I miss you." I knew from our nightly visits that he hadn't been able to hear me during the day, but he'd been growing in strength. Part of me hoped he would hear me this time. I wrapped my arms around myself. "I wish you were here with me right now."

I watched his face, looking for a sign of understanding. There was none. Dean's wide eyes stared off into space, his jaw slack. Although it didn't look like it, I knew Luke was in there, waiting to come out.

There has to be a way to free him. The rest of our lives together can't be spent in three-hour intervals.

A sudden rush of anger swept through me. I could feel it pounding through my blood. I took a deep breath and forced it back, remembering once again that the rituals had changed me. They made me darker and more violent. Because of the darkness now inside me, I'd killed without a second thought. I'd become a murderer and a fool. Rushing in, so full of hatred and the need for revenge, not caring about my life or anyone else's...

And Luke died trying to keep me alive.

What I had become scared me, and now I did my best to try and keep those dark and violent feelings at bay. I wouldn't let them master me anymore. I had to try and remember who I used to be. I swore I would never be so reckless again.

Luke had always known how he felt. He told me he wanted me to stay with him after I'd complete the rituals, but I'd been unsure of my feelings for him, trying to keep myself from getting hurt. But when I saw him lying there on the ground, the spark of life gone from his eyes, only then had I realized how empty my life was without him by my side.

I reached out and put my hand on Dean's arm. Luke was here with me. He was back in the world of the living, and I thanked the Goddess for it every day.

There was a sudden argument across the room, but the orderlies quickly broke it up. The patients seemed unusually twitchy today.

Caroline motioned to her watch and then to me. I made my way reluctantly to her side.

She looked at her watch again and said, "You have counseling in an hour."

Counseling. An unpleasant office visit with the doctor would be happening today. I wasn't looking forward to it. Being forced to sit across from someone who expected you to spill all your deepest, darkest secrets and fears was, at least for me, a form of torture. At each session, Barton stared at me across his desk, pad and pen in hand, expecting me to tell him something. But my secrets, my fears, the awful things that happened to my family weren't things I wanted to talk to anyone about.

How could I explain to this man how I had changed? That after each ritual it felt as if part of me was torn away and something darker had crept in? I wasn't even sure myself how to face down the violence that now raced through my blood.

In every session I'd been to so far, I had just sat staring at Barton in silence. I wasn't looking forward to another half hour of trying to avoid those eyes boring into me as he patiently waited for me to spill my guts. It felt like a mental tug of war, an uncomfortable battle of wills.

When I had first come here, I'd claimed to be unbalanced by anger and runaway powers. Since the awakening, I had felt warring inside me, so that seemed the easiest symptom to fake. But in order to get checked into this rehab facility, I needed to have something more serious going on. After some deliberation, Walter and I'd crafted a backstory. He'd called ahead before leaving me here, claiming that he was my clan elder and that I'd used my healer powers to hurt another clan member who had angered me. The victim was not seriously hurt, but the family worried for my safety and their own. I thought all I needed was to get in, do my spell, and quickly get back out.

But almost immediately things had gone wrong. First, the spell fell short of expectations. Then, I found out that Dean's body was too weak to move after so long in a wheelchair. I needed more time. I needed to stay here and show as little progress as possible if I hoped to bring Luke out with me, so standing mute had seemed the safest route. An occasional outburst of anger helped make my case.

To my surprise, the anger came a little too easily. As soon as I loosened the reins on the monster that lived inside of me, I found it hard to get it back under control. I doubted Barton could have been much help, even if I was willing to come clean with him about my history. But I was starting to believe that lying to the doctor made it harder to lie to myself. I wasn't in control of my anger, and until I was, I was a danger to those I loved. And then Morgana played patty-finger in my mind, removing all illusion of control.

If I was ever going to have a true balance within myself again, I needed to make peace with the monster inside me, that darkness that now dwelled in my soul.

I needed to somehowmake it a part of me.

*****