Perhaps you should tell him. Tell him what you are and see how he regards you then. It will be interesting to watch his promises of love turn to an expression of disgust.

I leap from my chair, pushing past Bram, my hands over my ears.

“Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Why can’t you leave me alone?”

Bram grabs me and pulls me to him. He is searching my face for answers and knows that my cries are not directed at him. “Who is it, Lilith? Who is making you so very afraid? Tell me.”

“I can’t! You wouldn’t understand.”

“I could try.”

“It’s impossible. We are impossible. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be seeing you.” I try to pull away from him, but this time he will not let me go. I can hear his voice, soothing yet urgent. I can hear the Dark Spirit, goading and laughing at me. I can hear other spirits now, disturbed by the activity of such a powerful soul from the Darkness. I can hear my loyal captains offering their help. I am deafened. I am drowning in all their voices, all their words. I feel as if my mind will burn up from it all. I let out a shriek, and as I do so I unintentionally loose a shock of magic, fiery and dangerous, without direction, that lights up the entire attic space. The heat of it sends Bram hurtling backward, crashing against the far wall. The easel and chair are overturned, the teapot and cups dashed against the floor and smashed, the armchair upended, the bed turned, the mirror burst in smithereens from its frame. The blinding light lasts a second, no more, but when it passes and cools, there is an aroma of singeing hair and wood and dust. I stand very still, my fists clenched, my hair flowing outward, billowing, undulating, as if moved by a celestial breeze.

Slowly, cautiously, Bram gets to his feet. He looks a little bruised, and shocked, but otherwise unharmed. He takes in the devastation of the room and then returns his bewildered gaze to me.

The Dark Spirit has, mercifully, been silenced by my outburst.

I take a long, deep breath and look at the man I love, levelly, calmly. I want to hold close in my memory that dear, loving face in case, after I have spoken, he never turns it upon me again.