kill him?

No, that was him being real crazy now.

Yes, the apparition was of Orelia Mason, but he had begun to almost believe she wasn’t an illusion. She sure looked real and she had the audacity to wear a smile. Not your garden variety smile either. This was a bold, great to see you grin, as if she had every right to be sitting in this room.

And by the way, where was he?

He raised his head off the pillow and twisted his neck left to right. Big mistake; that movement hurt. He took in a few alarming facts. A tube protruded from the back of his hand running to a liquid bag hung beside his bed. Not good. His head felt as if someone had hit him against a wall. Also not good.

As he was incredibly intuitive—thought with a sarcastic tone— he surmised this must be a hospital room, which wasn’t great either. Still, a whole lot better than awakening on a trolley in a morgue.

The last thing he remembered was Orelia at the bookstore. Wait though, if he didn’t know where he was until this second, how could she?

“Or—el—ia?” His voice sounded piped through cotton wool, distant and unclear.

“Oh! You’re awake. You scared us. And, well I very nearly broke down when I saw you. I’m just devastated we lost touch. I sat here for hours waiting for you to wake. You know, years ago this happened to me too. I ended up in a hospital bed too. I won’t bore you with the details because that was another lifetime ago. I bet your first thought was that you’d died. Same here when it happened to me.”

William tried to say, how did you even know I was here? But only managed, “Ho-ow?”

Orelia must have misunderstood because she leaned forward and, in a conspiratorial whisper said, “The nurse on duty is a fan and let me in.”

Then she patted the blanket over his chest and said, “Now you, mister, need to take better care. Not to be negative but, William Barnes, you look awful. You’ve lost weight. Are you eating? Seems you have low blood sugar. I told Morris you’re probably working too hard on another book. Not taking time for yourself.”

William replied, “Hm-hmm,” wondering what the hell she was saying and what she actually meant. He hadn’t lost weight. Lately maybe his clothes were a little looser. But he had eaten. Least he thought so. Didn’t he eat before entering the bookstore? Did he even pick up his fork?

No, he was fine. This was her, his enemy playing mind games to divert his attention from what he must do.

And what is that right now William?

Well, for a start to get the hellish woman out of his room. Or escape himself.

He glanced at the tube on the back of his wrist and there was his answer; leaving would be difficult and she would know that. The fact she appeared here, when he was at his most vulnerable and unable to fight back, was her sending her own message. She intended to force him into actions he’d regret, like she did that night at Bountiful Books when she’d cast her spell and convinced him to help her.