Free Midnight Ruling by E.M. MacCallum Page A

I called and immediately regretted it.
    Sand, dirt, and wind hollowed out my mouth, coated my tongue with cotton.
    Struggling to breathe through the wind, I wobbled onto my knees. My eardrums ached, and the windy shrieks made it hard to find her. Swinging an arm, my fingers brushed fabric. I closed my hand around the fabric and pulled to bring her closer. The little body fell back into mine, and I wrapped my arms around her, trying to protect her.
    The windy shrieks stopped, my hair falling back over my ears, and I held stone still, anticipating a trick.
    My ears hummed, and the little girl against me breathed deep against my chest. She felt so real in my arms, flesh and bone, warm and cool at the same time. Her hair tickled my face, and I squeezed her.
    “Let go,” she whispered.
    With a jerk, she pulled away, and afraid I was hurting her, I loosened my grip. She ducked out of my arms and twisted away.
    My skin felt raw and red from the sand, and I tried to blink away tears as I reached for her again. “Don’t go!” I coughed through the cotton balls in my mouth.
    Squinting through my watery vision, I snagged a shirt and tugged.
    That’s when I realized it wasn’t Neive.
    Wiping my eyes with my free palm, I refused to let the fabric go until I could see.
    The shock of seeing him was like jumping into a glacial lake.
    Damien knelt at the edge of the sandbox, a bemused smirk playing on his full lips as he watched my expression shift. His short raven hair fell past his ears and over his pale forehead. He looked to be a man who’d never seen sun. His asymmetrical features were like a mask—almost fake. His long lashes hooded his obsidian eyes that shone like black diamonds. I could see my vague outline reflected back to me in them.
    My hand had found the center of his shirt. Jerking my hand back to my stomach, I unconsciously wiped it on my hip and fell back with a ragged gasp, still tasting sand.
    Looking around the small backyard, I realized Neive wasn’t there. That just left Damien. One of the times I was alone with him, I’d vomited hair.
    Cringing, I peeked up at the caliginous sky; not even the stars twinkled. I don’t know how I could even see Damien or the yard, but somehow I could in the pitch black.
    “I’m dreaming again,” I said hoarsely.
    “I interrupted,” Damien admitted, unashamed.
    We stared at each other for several prolonged seconds before I could finally work my mind into forming a question. “You interrupted my dream? It’s really you?” I heard the skepticism in my own voice.
    “Yes,” he said.
    I swallowed hard past the grit in my throat and sat back on my legs. “Why are you here?”
    “You are ignoring the warnings.” He lifted Nell’s black book from his side and wiggled it for me to see.
    My eyes widened, and I reached to snatch it away. “Give it back.”
    Jerking it away, he held it behind him and out of my reach, “It’s all yours, Nora. This is a dream, remember?”
    His amusement at my shock annoyed me. “Then give it to me,” I said, holding out my hand.
    Raising his straight eyebrows, Damien looked somewhere between amused and cautious. He held out the book in front of him, closer.
    The moment I went to grab it, he pulled it from my reach.
    Flushing, I snapped, “You want to tell me why you’re here? In my dream!”
    Smirking, he turned the book around in his fingers, knowing I’d never be able to take it from him. “Actually, I was invited.”
    “Not by me,” I snapped.
    He didn’t look at me but kept smiling in that patronizing way.
    “Are you here to tell me not to come back to the Demon’s Grave?”
    He tilted his head to the side, and his smile faltered. “Never.”
    Shocked, I waited for him to explain.
    Losing interest in the book, his obsidian gaze shifted back to me, making the goosebumps race once again.
    “I encourage you to come back. However, you’ll have to face a Challenge again.”
    “I know. I want my friends back,” I said.
    Damien