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strands, highlighting the random reds and golds in his black hair.

Standing up on my toes, I pull him closer. I press my lips to his and inhale his scent of sandalwood and soap as it blends with the winter wind. I donā€™t know what it is about his touch, or his kissesā€¦but I could stay submerged in the feelings and sensations they evoke forever, if heā€™d let me.

Chuckling under his breath, he pulls back. ā€œCome on, Autumn. Itā€™ll be much more fun inside. I promise youā€”ā€

Suddenly, Wadeā€™s eyes widen and his jaw slacks open. Within a split-second, all color drains from his face.

Pulling back, I twist around, following his tormented stare.

Less than ten feet away, I catch the tail end of an old man materializing like a dust-devil has just brought him into being. Everything about him looks as though itā€™s made of ash and yet, somehow, still solid. As the man takes an awkward first step forward, I clasp my hands over my mouth.

Itā€™s Wadeā€™s dead grandfather.

Chapter 12

Buzzkill

Instinctively, Wade springs into action, pulling me back and stepping out in front, effectively putting himself between me and his grandfather.

ā€œIs thisā€”normal?ā€ I sputter, unable to take my eyes off the crumbling version of the man I barely knew.

Wade shoots me a WTF look and shakes his head. ā€œWhat in the hell could possibly be normal about this?ā€ He jabs his right hand, palm side up, toward his grandfather.

ā€œIā€”I donā€™t know. You said your familyā€™s powers are dormant. Maybe they donā€™t kick in until you die?ā€ I sputter, unable to think of anything else that makes sense.

With wide eyes, Wade turns back to his grandpa. ā€œNo, this is something elseā€”something unnatural. Iā€™ve never seen anything like this. I...have no idea what to do here.ā€

My mind wheels through various scenarios, but none of them are good.

ā€œGrandpaā€”itā€™s me, Wade. Do you remember me?ā€ he says, splaying his arms out wide, trying to get his grandpaā€™s attention.

Unfortunately, thereā€™s no recognition hidden in the ashen face of the man standing before us. If anything, he looks almost feral as he crouches down, pulling his elbows back like heā€™s about to pounce.

ā€œOh my god, heā€™s another revenant,ā€ I say, tugging at Wadeā€™s arm.

ā€œWell, yeah, I kinda figured,ā€ Wade replies, tilting his head to the side.

My heartbeat thumps loudly in my chest, and Iā€™m acutely aware of the fact that weā€™re highly exposed. ā€œHe shouldnā€™t be here. We need to find a way to release him,ā€ I sputter.

Wade takes a step backward, forcing me to do the same. ā€œWell, if you have any ideas, Iā€™m all ears ā€˜cause I got nothinā€™. This is so far outside the realm of normal for me.ā€

ā€œWeā€™ll have to destroy his body, just like the other ones.ā€

ā€œI canā€™t kill him,ā€œ Wade practically squeaks.

ā€œWade, heā€™s already dead,ā€ I say, unable to even blink away.

With that, the creature lunges forward, hissing as it leaps a good five feet or more into the air. In microseconds, the ashen figure of Wadeā€™s grandpa is on top of us, stretching out its hands as it tries to grab hold of the front of Wadeā€™s leather jacket. Caught off guard by the insanely sudden movement, I jump back, slipping on an icy patch and landing hard on my backside. Wadeā€™s footing also falters, but the creature manages to intertwine its fingers with Wadeā€™s collar, taking them both down as well.

As I scramble back and away, Wade manages to kick the revenant off of him, but only for seconds before it gets its bearings and attacks again.

ā€œCan you get that door open?ā€ Wade yells, pressing his arms straight out and holding the creature. It snaps and snarls, trying to get at its prey as it thrusts its fingers across Wadeā€™s face.

Without even answering, I scramble to my feet and make my way to the side door of the boathouse. Clutching the handle, I give it a twist and thrust my shoulder into it, trying to get it to swing open. The resounding thud reverberates, but the door itself doesnā€™t budge.

ā€œDammit,ā€ I curse, immediately scanning the area for a key. ā€œItā€™s locked.ā€

I shove my hand into the potted evergreen beside the doorway but come up empty-handed.

ā€œJust kick it in,ā€ Wade yells back, wrestling the revenant from side to side as he struggles to get himself free.

Standing on my tiptoes, I feel around the edge of the trim work. My fingertips graze the edge of something metallic as it drops into the snow beside the door. Immediately I drop to my knees, ignoring the trembling in my hands as I dig through the snow for the key. Finally, my fingertips find the cold metal and I pluck it from the snowbank. Racing to the handle, I thrust in the key and mutter a prayer under my breath that it works.

The locks groans, but clicks, and I fling the door back. ā€œGot it.ā€

Spinning around, I run up to the revenant, planting my foot along its side with as much force as I can muster. Luckily, the blow is enough to knock him off of Wade, at least momentarily. Thrusting my hand down, I pull Wade to his feet. The revenant turns around, makes another swipe for him, and barely misses.

ā€œChrist, this thing wonā€™t quit,ā€ Wade huffs, his eyes wide and face flushed.

Twisting around, he grabs hold of the revenant instead, bending his legs and rushing the two of them forward into the boathouse. When heā€™s cleared the doorway, Wade drops the odd, dusty fabric of the creature, letting momentum carry it farther into the space. Without a secondā€™s hesitation, Wade pivots, grabbing the handle and slamming the door shut.

He stands here, his hands gripping the door handle as if his life depends on itā€”and it does. The creature screams, howling and groping at the door on the other side.

ā€œHere, let me lock it,ā€ I say, stepping forward and twisting the key into place.

As the lock clicks, Wade exhales loudly but doesnā€™t remove his hands. ā€œDo you think it knows how to

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