Witch & Wizard 04 - The Kiss Read Free Page B

three-dimensional images playing out behind me are awful. A sea of black rats scurry over one another, attacking their own tails. Worms crawl out of an eye socket, bathing it in their milky trail. They writhe outward toward the crowd, so real in their holographic existence that a few people jerk backward, shrieking.
    It’s like the movie has been switched, but it’s all in my head.
    How are these things coming… out of me ?
    Just keep going, Whit. Get it back on track.
    I concentrate hard, my whole body shaking with the effort, but the horrifying images keep projecting behind me.
    The image flickers: now a child bangs his head against the wall, over and over, as blood pools in his eyes. A mask is removed from a face, and behind it is the chill of death. An avalanche of snow barrels outward, and members of the crowd turn away in terror.
    “Whit!” Wisty yells, a look of horror on her face. “Stop it!”
    But I’m utterly helpless as the darkness feeds on itself. I shake my head and jump off the stage, leaving my sister and friends and a roomful of people gawking after me.
    I run, and keep running. Out of the room. Out the big double doors, knocking them against the wall on their hinges, and out into the street. I take huge gulps of the night air as I try to keep from vomiting.
    Voices are calling in the distance, yelling my name, but I can’t face them, not now, not until I shake this diseased feeling. I won’t stop running until my lungs are screaming and my legs ache.
    I have to escape the thing that’s in my head.

Chapter 4
    Wisty
    “SERIOUSLY, WHAT’S WRONG? ”
    “Let it go, Wisty,” Whit warns as I try to keep up.
    Okay. Good sister that I am, I’m just going to ignore the fact that my brother had a complete meltdown at a party for our friends that was supposed to be about celebration and happiness . I’m going to forget that he stormed out of the gallery without any explanation, and then refused to answer a single one of my questions when I chased after him in the street.
    Yeah, right.
    “If you just tell me what happened, maybe I could help,” I prod, turning the key to let us into my sweet new apartment. (The upshot to using your magical powers to save basically the whole world from a psycho villain is that your parents freak out a little bit less when you mention you’d really like to get your own place.)
    “There’s nothing to tell,” my brother insists. He steps over one of the piles of stuff on the floor, and perches on a counter stool. “Wow, Wisty, you’ve really done wonders with the space.” Whit shakes his head. “Have the rats moved in yet?”
    “Organized chaos,” I say, cheerfully ignoring the dig. A little mess keeps me sane, and I can do as I please here. “And you’re the one living with weaselly Byron Swain. That’s what I call rodent’s paradise.”
    “Har har,” Whit answers dryly.
    Then the doorbell rings, and we both glance toward the front door, surprised. Whit raises an eyebrow. “Visitors this late?”
    I shrug. “It’s probably Janine, wondering why you acted like a total freak and just left her at the gallery.”
    “Wisteria,” Whit warns, looking at me sternly. He never uses my full name.
    “Whitford,” I reply mockingly, and chuck a couch cushion at his head as I walk to answer the door.
    “I said, Let. It. Go. ”
    “Yeah, yeah.” I smirk and look through the peephole. I glimpse the height, the dark hair…
    Oh. Em. Gee.
    It’s Heath. The guy who asked me to dance at the art festival. Here. At my apartment. I totally spaz out, flattening my body against the door.
    “What? Who is it?” Whit asks, standing up.
    Ignoring my brooding brother, I finally pull myself together enough to open the door.
    “Hi,” I say shyly.
    “Hey,” Heath answers, and it’s like a little velvet purr.
    Neither of us moves for a moment; we just blink at each other, not sure of our boundaries. Under the porch light, Heath’s pale eyes glow a cool shade of blue