My Father's Bidding

12: The Girl From The Painting

"What makes you so sure?"

She walked over and bent down in front of me with a confident smirk on her lips. "I'm not a forgettable person."

"Everyone is forgettable."

Her head tilted slightly, making her expression appear more irritated than confident. I looked away from her gaze awkwardly, hoping she'd also look away. To my surprise, she helped me sit up against a pillar, making sure to be extra gentle. "You won't be doing much standing with a fractured hip and a broken ankle."

"That's all? My whole body feels broken."

"I mean there's more but those are the two you should be the most concerned with. You can't walk."

"Maybe I could with your help?"

"I don't have enough energy to stay on your side that long."

"What do you mean?"

"For a spirit to make physical contact, it takes energy. I don't have any sources here, other than you, but you're half dead yourself."

"You-you're a spirit?"

"Maybe I should roughen myself up a bit so you believe me, though my relatives do look pretty bad so I think I'll pass. You're lucky it was dark when my stepmother was on you." She made light of it but guilt hit me like a truck.

"I'm sorry. . ." I trailed off now unsure what to say. I just told a ghost that she'd be forgotten. I'm sure she already feared it, but now I've reminded her.

"Don't be, I have a good reason to be here." A small smile crept on her features as she watched her thumb run across her wrist. Both her wrists had bite marks. My eyes immediately shot to her neck, finding another.

"You had a mate?"

"My love bites are a bit more intimate than a mating." Her smile grew as she thought about it before biting her lips together to hold back tears.

My heart began to ache for her as my mind attempted to fill in the blanks. I looked over her face sadly, stopping on her ruby locks. Finally, it hit me. "You're the girl, the one from the painting."

"What painting?"

"The painting on the wall. It's how I got here. I was pulled into this painting. It was a long tube with faces and you-" I froze, catching myself before the words came out. She looked at me as if I were speaking another language but waited for me to continue. "-you were on fire."

Instead of upset, she seemed to be calculating. "But I never. . ." she trailed off in thought for a second before piecing it together. Her copper eyes shot back to mine, now beaming with life. "She's clever."

"Who is?"

"You'll figure it out soon enough." She disappeared into dust, leaving the image of her final smirk to burn into my head.

"There you are!" a familiar voice pulled me from my speechless shock. "I have looked everywhere for you." Xander rushed over to examine my injuries, pausing after a second to look at me suspiciously. "Who put a heat shield around you?"

"A what?"

"You have a heat shield. Who lit the torches?"

I glanced around the room, debating on if I should tell. If I'm the only one seeing ghosts they'll think I've lost my mind. "I don't know." He squinted his eyes at me but didn't share what he was thinking. Instead, he picked me up carefully and sped off through the castle. "Where's Julien?"

"I haven't found him yet."

We slid to a stop in what looked to be an entry hall. Amara and Sergio appeared with stressed faces and dried blood stains on their clothes. I didn't understand what Xander meant until I saw the ice-covered floors and the breath leaving their mouths. I had no idea it was this cold.

"Where are we?" Amara questioned with a shiver.

"I think we're in the painting," I replied, feeling stupid after hearing the words come out.

"There is too much detail here. It must be another realm. The painting was a portal," Xander explained.

"Where is Julien?"

"You haven't seen him either?" I asked slowly. Worry began to creep up, bringing every bad scenario with it.

"We hoped you had," Sergio replied.

"Maybe he didn't come in with us," Amara suggested.

"He could teleport to Talia from anywhere. In what world would your brother not come to find us?" Xander met her eyes, trying to make her thoughts follow the direction of his.

A lump caught in her throat and her eyes filled with tears. "We have to find him." Her hand slapped around Sergio's arm, dragging him in the direction of the next room.

"Do you think he's hurt?" The breath seemed to leave my body as it set in.

"I think if he was you would be the first to know. However, his absence is unusual and a cause for concern. The possibility of her suggestion is always there, but that seems unlikely." He bent down to sit me on the ground. My hand grabbed his shirt, fearing he was going to leave me on my own again. "I need you to shift."

"Shift? I can't do that."

"Carrying you will slow down the process. I have crossed paths with some of the spirits that rest here. They are not friendly. We will both be in a vulnerable position. It's best that you let your wolf take over. She can heal and protect you."

I nodded, pushing through my discomfort and focusing on a rock next to my foot. I began to heal as my wolf stirred in my chest. My breathing picked up and my skin began to radiate. Just before she took over, a sharp tap on the stairs broke my focus. The object bounced down the stairs before rolling across the floor in a large circle around us, finally coming to a stop at Xander's feet. He picked up a small marble and analyzed it before throwing it over his shoulder.

I began the process again, focusing on the rock. Another tap came from the stairs. I frustratedly glanced at them again, this time finding a boy in an old suit shuffling more marbles between his hands. His clothes were torn and covered in blood, but he didn't seem to be affected by any injuries. Xander gently nudged me, signaling for me to transition. I tried to prepare myself again. The second my eyes left him, the marbles burst in our direction, shattering the glass behind us. "Ah, the thrill of unexpected company. I've been itching for some entertainment."