The harsh wind whipped at my face as I plunged headfirst toward a dark sea. The surface of the water was serene—just gentle, lapping waves—but I knew it would crush me the second I hit it. I flailed through the air, my heart pounding in my ears, grabbing helplessly for anything to stop my descent. But my fingers only closed on air.

There was nothing I could do.

The water was rushing up to meet me. I braced myself for the impact—

I awoke with a jolt.

I was dripping wet like I really had been pulled from the water and, for a second, I thought the dream had been real. Then, as my mind caught up with reality, I realized that it was only my own sweat that soaked me.

Nightmare, I told myself, rubbing at my face. Just another goddamn nightmare. I tossed my head, like I could erase it from my memory just by shaking it free.

But the dream wouldn't be cast aside so easily. There was something about it that clung to me like my sweat dampened t-shirt. It felt like deja vu—a memory, a moment I had lived through before...

Then I remembered: I had lived through it before. Well, not lived—it had just been a similar dream, another helpless fall towards dark water. Only this time, this fall had been from much higher than the second floor, and there was no ghostly face waiting for me in the depths.

I shuddered and rolled over, trying my best to put it out of my mind. I reached out, looking for the comfort of Luc's warm body. Snuggling into his chest always helped chase the nightmares away...

There were only cold sheets.

Scrambling up in bed, I reached for the light. The bulb came to life and for a second I was forced to squint as my eyes adjusted.

Luc was gone.

The sheets on my side of the bed were rumpled and damp from my nightmare, but Luc's were relatively undisturbed, pulled neatly back. It didn't make sense; I distinctly remembered falling asleep next to him, burrowed into his arm as he read.

Where did he go?

Maybe he had gotten up to use the washroom, or to get a drink... "Luc?" I called, hoping that was the case. The only reply were the faint sounds of the city—a car passing, a siren in the distance.

I slid out of bed and headed out into the apartment to look for him. Maybe he had escaped to the couch when my nightmare had kicked in—it wouldn't have been the first time my dreams had driven him from our bed.

The living room was dark. I listened, trying to catch the sound of his even breathing, but the room was the dead quiet. I felt for the light and flicked it on.

He wasn't there. I was alone.

Where the hell did Luc go? I thought angrily, wandering through the empty apartment. Had he gone out for some emergency job? The idea of it sent a flare of irritation through me. I glanced over the counters and tables, looking for a note. If he had left, he would've left me a note, right? Or at least sent me a text...

I stopped. Maybe that was it! He had sent me a text, but since the speakers on my phone were still busted, I wouldn't have heard it. Just as I turned to head back to the bedroom, something caught my eye.

The apartment door was unlocked... and ajar.

My stomach tensed, and my irritation changed to worry. If Luc had left, he would've locked the door... Or, at least, he definitely would've closed it.

I tip-toed closer. As gently as I could, I pushed against the door, widening the gap, and leaned out into the stairwell. Out here it was as dark and quiet just like the rest of the apartment—

No, wait.

There were voices. Voices, drifting up from downstairs. I slipped out the door and leaned over the upper railing, straining my ears to catch what they were saying.

I recognized one of the voices instantly—Luc, of course. His voice was a whisper, but hard, like he was finally reaching the edge of his usually infinite patience. The second was muted, mumbling and completely unintelligible. The two voices bounced off each other and though I couldn't make out what they were saying it sounded like they were... arguing.

Curious, I stepped onto the first stair and it groaned softly under my weight. I froze in place, teeth clenched, waiting to see if I had been noticed.

They continued to argue, unaware of my approach.

Thank god.

Regaining my courage, I took the second stair, then the third. As I reached the second landing, I could see the door to the main room. The thin curtain I had put up yesterday was drawn, but there was a dim light beneath its edge. And the voices were clearer, though they still spoke in angry whispers.

"We're trying it again," Luc hissed.

"But I'm tired, Luc. And it's so laaate," the other voice whined back. It was husky with its restraint, but I could finally recognize it.

Tory.

Why did Luc have Tory here in the middle of the night? I continued my descent, inching down the stairs.

"I don't care!" Luc snapped. "You're not leaving until you put some actual effort into this—"

My next step creaked beneath my foot—this time, it was sharp, loud and clear. I winced.

"Wait, did you hear something?"

Dammit.

There was a flurry of footsteps and the curtain was thrown back. Luc appeared in its place, peering up the stairs at me. Warm, flickering light cascaded over his shoulders.

"Rachel, what are you doing up?" he asked, the words coming out in a rush. His face was in shadow, but he sounded... flustered.

Stealth abandoned, I clomped down the rest of the stairs, coming to a stop in front of him. "You weren't in bed, so I came looking for you. What are you doing up? And why—" I leaned around him, peering through the gap in the curtain, "—is Tory here?"

And there Tory was, glaring at me from the large armchair that had been dragged into the middle of the room. The table had been moved too, pushed in front of him. There was a large lit candle in the centre and something shiny placed in front—

"Tory's just helping me with something." Luc shifted to block my view. "It's not important."

I tried to dodge him, but he blocked me again. "If it's not important, then why are you doing it in the middle of the night?"

"W-Well—"

"We're trying to contact those spirits of yours," Tory called tauntingly. "But we're not having much luck."

Luc sighed and closed his eyes.

"You're trying... You're actually trying to contact them?" I asked breathlessly.

Luc didn't have an answer. His eyes flicked open again and bored into me, the green of his iris almost glowing in the dark.

I clucked my tongue and shoved hard, pushing past him into the room. The candle flickered feebly, giving more atmosphere than light, but I could now see what had been laid across the table in front of Tory: the broken mirror.

A chill shuddered through me. "Why didn't you tell me?" I asked, whipping around to Luc.

He was leaning against the doorframe, looking at the floor. He didn't respond.

"Why didn't you tell me?!" I said again, storming over to him.

"I was going to," he said finally, his eyes softening as they found me. "Once I had found something. Until then, I didn't want you to get worked up and worry."

"Worry...?"

"I wasn't sure what we were going to find," he said with a deceptively casual shrug.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Well, so far, there's not much to worry about," Tory sneered, leaning his chin on his hand. "We haven't found anything. I, for one, am shocked."

Tory's sass seemed to ignite something in Luc. The green in his eyes suddenly flared bright. "We haven't found anything because you're not actually trying," he growled, edging around me and striding over to Tory. "You won't ever become a proper medium if you don't drop the ego!"

"It's not my ego!" Tory replied, recoiling from Luc's outburst. "At least, not right now... I'm just fucking exhausted!"

The aggression eased out of Luc's shoulders, but he kept his glare on his assistant. "All I'm asking is that you try," he said, his voice even again—though it sounded like he was fighting to keep it that way. "Forget your ego, forget what you think you know, and just try. Try once—just once—and you can go home to Ethan."

"If Ethan'll let me in," Tory grumbled under his breath, then, with a huff: "Fine. Fine! I'll try."

"Good." Luc took a deep breath, letting it center him. When he turned back to me, he looked a lot calmer. "You should probably go back to bed—"

"No." I said, pressing myself into the wall like he'd have to pry me off of it if he wanted to send me away. "I want to stay. I want to see."

Luc gave me a look I didn't understand.

"Just let her stay," Tory groaned, rubbing at his eyes. "I just want to get this over with, okay?"

"Fine," Luc sighed, turning back to the table. "You can leave any time, Rachel, if gets to be too much."

"I'll be fine." I crossed my arms across my chest.

They ignored me, already focussed on their work. Tory leaned back in the chair, draping each arm over the rests, his palms turned up to the ceiling. Luc just circled the table, his walk slow and purposeful, inspecting every inch of the scene.

"Are you ready?" Luc asked, after a moment.

Tory nodded, then shot a glance at me from the corner of his eye.

"Don't focus on her," Luc chided. "Focus on yourself."

Tory nodded again, shifting his shoulders and allowing himself to sink deeper into the cushioned back.

"Let your mind empty," Luc began, his voice shifting to a deeper, calming drawl. "Forget your doubts. Forget your ego—"

Tory's brow twitched, threatening to frown.

"—and let it all go," Luc continued ignoring his reaction. "Let it slip away. All that's left of you is your body."

Tory's features settled now. His eyes stilled, then glazed over, like he was daydreaming.

"You're a shell. You're an empty vessel, ready to be filled," Luc said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Ready to let someone in."

Tory's eyes rolled up, leaving only the whites visible under his heavy lids. His face slackened and his body went limp, sliding down in the chair.

Luc left his assistant like that for a moment as he straightened up, squaring his shoulders and aligning his back. He took a deep breath, and then spoke, his voice coming out as a booming command. "We open this circle, allowing you to enter and speak with us."

We both stared at Tory, waiting for him to react, but he just laid there, limp as ever.

"If there is a spirit amongst us, please make yourself known."

Tory didn't move, or even twitch. But it felt like atmosphere of the room changed. It felt charged. Electric. The hairs on the arms were standing straight up. The flame on the candle was dancing now, waving wildly in some unseen breeze.

"We're here to listen," Luc bellowed again, his frustration leaking into his voice. "We want to listen."

The tender skin of my scar began to tingle, like it was awakening from sleep. I hissed, clasping my hand around my wrist.

Luc noticed this. His eyes flicked over to me, his brow tense with concern. "Rachel—"

The candle snuffed out and then Tory lurched up in his seat, sucking in a gasp of air with a raspy, crackling whoosh. He lingered there for a moment, his empty eyes fixed blankly on the ceiling, before he fell forward, crumpling against the table.

"Tory!" Luc called as he rushed to his assistant's side.

I joined him, dancing gingerly behind him. "What was that? What happened?"

Luc didn't answer me. He shook Tory's shoulders. "Tory, are you okay?"

Tory groaned. With shaking hands, he pushed himself back off the table. His face was drawn, the shadows under his eyes all the more apparent. "Yeah, yeah," he moaned, glaring up at us. "I'm fine."

"What did you see?" Luc asked.

"I don't know," Tory replied, pressing his hand into his face. "I can't remember. I just... I snapped out of my trance. It was... It was like I couldn't hold onto it anymore." He groaned again. "Probably because I'm too damn tired."

Luc swore under his breath. "Alright, fine. We'll put a stop to it for tonight."

"Thank God," Tory said, flopping back in the chair.

"But we're trying again. And soon," Luc said, aiming a pointed finger at Tory. "So rest up."

Tory glowered at Luc, but said nothing as he slid out of the chair. He wobbled slightly as he stood, and staggered over to the counter where his coat had been draped over the edge.

I watched him struggle as he pulled it on. I leaned close to Luc. "You're not going to let him drive like that, are you? Driving tired is as bad as driving drunk..."

Luc snorted. "He's not driving. I picked him up, so I'll drop him off."

I eyed him. "Are you okay to drive?"

"I'm fine," Luc said with a reassuring smile. "I'll return safe and sound. Psychic's honour." He winked.

"Are you coming?" Tory snapped. He was leaning against the front door like he might collapse at any second. Man, being tired really wasn't any different than being drunk... And Tory was a belligerent drunk.

"Yeah, yeah," Luc said. He dug around in his pocket for a second, and the lights of the car parked out front flashed. "Why don't you go wait in the car?"

Tory grumbled to himself as he pulled the door open and headed towards the car.

"Is he going to be alright?" I asked, watching him stumble across the sidewalk.

"He should be fine," Luc said.

"Are you sure?" I turned to look Luc directly in the eyes. "I mean, after everything..." I felt a lump form in my throat. "If he couldn't contact anyone, does that mean they are just in my head?"

"What do you mean?"

"Tory's a medium, right? If he can't contact them, then—"

Luc shook his head. "Tory's still training. He's inexperienced. And he's biased."

"Biased?"

Luc gave me one of his looks, like he knew but didn't want to tell me.

He didn't have to. It clicked after a moment. "Oh. Tory still doesn't believe I saw anything, does he? He thinks I'm delusional."

The little dip that formed between Luc's eyebrows told me I was right. "He'll come around," Luc said after a second. "I'll make sure of it." He leaned in to kiss me on the forehead, then followed his assistant out into the night.

+ + +

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Why do you think Tory couldn't see anything?