He lets out a primal shout and flings himself forward at the Emissary, the way he did before, in the graveyard. There, we were in the land of the living, and Jacob was just a ghost. Here, the Emissary may be something more, but so is Jacob.

He slams into the skull-faced figure, pushing him back across the line, inky boots smearing the grave dirt on the bridge. Jacob slams his hands against the Emissary’s chest, but this time, instead of stepping back, the Emissary holds its ground, and Jacob’s fists sink into its front, like quicksand.

Jacob gasps and tries to pull free, but his arms sink deeper into the black suit. His sneakers slide on the bridge as the Emissary drags him in.

“You are in the wrong place,” says the rasping voice. “We will send you back.”

The color starts to drain out of Jacob’s face, his shirt, his hair, his skin. Something inside me begins to tear. A thread unraveling. A connection breaking.

“Cassidy …” Jacob says, his voice small and thin. “Go.”

I start toward him, but Lara catches my arm.

“We have to go,” she says, but I twist free, surging toward my friend, the camera already in my hands. The flash won’t work, I know, but the camera’s still heavy. I wrap my fingers in the purple strap and swing the camera as hard as I can, right at the Emissary’s head.

It hits the bone mask with a sound like metal on stone, like breaking pottery.

The Emissary loses its hold on Jacob.

Jacob collapses onto the bridge, and I don’t have time to run to him, to see if he’s okay, because the Emissary rounds on me, the ghost forgotten. The rictus grin of the skeleton mask splits and cracks, inky blackness dripping between the broken pieces of the mask.

“Cassidy Blake, your time has come.”

It reaches out a gloved hand.

This time, there is no invitation. No quiet order to come with us.

It simply drives its hand into my chest.

Chapter Twenty-Four

I look down and see the Emissary’s fingers, curling around the thread behind my ribs, the blue-white light of my life flickering in its grip. Darkness swarms over my senses.

My heart stutters, skips a beat.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lara, kneeling over Jacob, and I realize, this is the end, and I’m not scared to die again, not like this, protecting my friends.

“We will take you back into the dark.”

My vision tunnels. I squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t breathe.

“What about me?” Lara’s voice is crisp and clear.

I drag my eyes open and see her, standing there, several feet away, the warm red light of her life shining through her chest. The Emissary’s grip loosens a little.

“Lara, stop,” I whisper.