Page 40 of Hollow
He immediately envelops my hand in his, and the energy swarms off him. I feel it, I see it, a white glow that reminds me of lightning as it travels up my arm, disappearing under my coat.
Suddenly, the black of the lake fades, and then I’m in a shadowy dorm room. I’m sitting up, hearing a woman laugh and cry, and she calls out, “Ichabod.” I hear the thump outside the door. I’m grabbing a candlestick. I’m frightened and curious at the same time. Then I’m in a dark hall, the candlelight swaying. There’s a trail of blood. There’s the body. The limp grey feet that drag around the corner. I follow it.
The flashes come on fast and leave fast, and then I’m back where I am, staring at the lake and Crane’s worried face, his arm around my waist as if I was close to fainting again.
“Are you alright?” he asks, his eyes searching mine.
I gasp for air and nod. “I am. I think so.”
He lets go of my waist, and I wish he was still holding me. “What did you see?”
“Everything that you did,” I say, trying to catch my breath. “I saw it through your eyes. Had your memories. The cries in the night, the body, all of it.”
He frowns, a sharpness to his eyes. “And that’s it?”
“That’s it,” I assure him. Though I have to wonder what else he doesn’t want me to see. The more time I spend with him, the more I’m sure he has a lot of skeletons in his closet.
“Good,” he says. Then he steps back, places the lantern on the ground, and holds the tie out in front of him between both hands. “Time for me to blindfold you.”
“What?” I exclaim in horror.
“I will use you as a vessel.”
“A vessel!?” This is getting worse and worse.
“It’s possible you will be possessed, but only for a minute or two, just long enough for me to ask Vivienne Henry questions.” He says this so plainly, as if he told me what the chef is making for dinner.
“You are not blindfolding me, and you are not using me as a vessel, and you are not opening my body up for possession by some crazy schoolteacher.”
He leans in. “But what if she wasn’t crazy?” His eyes are wild, the light dancing in them.
“I think maybe you’re crazy.”
“She’s after me,” he explains. “My energy. My energy is now in you. This is where she died. She will come to you.”
“Why the blindfold?”
“Because you need to be totally cut off to this world.” He pauses. “And I was hoping you could go in the lake.”
“Professor Crane,” I snap at him, putting my hands on my hips. “I am not going in the damn lake in my clothes.”
“Take off your clothes, then,” he says with a lopsided grin, a flare of lust in his eyes that makes me feel hot and dizzy.
“No!” I cry out, giving my head a shake. “You want it so badly? You go in the lake. Or better yet, tonight when she’s dragging herself outside your room, ask her then.”
He stares down at me with a focused look in his eyes. “I like to do things on my terms. I want to be in control.” Then he gives me his crooked smile again. “Come on, Kat. Be a good witch for me.”
I hate that his words are undoing me.
Be a good witch for me? How did he know that praise was a soft spot?
“I’ll give you an A,” he teases, his voice throaty and deep. “You’ll pass all my classes with flying colors.”
It’s tempting to take it. “I would rather earn my way,” I say defiantly. Then I sigh. “But I’ll do it for you anyway.” I reach out and swipe the tie from his hands and hold it up over my eyes. “I’ll be a good little witch.”
“Yes you will,” he murmurs, his voice growing richer as my world goes black. I feel him move around me, taking the ends of the tie and making a knot at the back of my head.
Then he reaches down and takes my hand in his, and when I try and pull it out of his grasp, he says, “Don’t. I’m not trying to do anything to you. I’m just trying to touch you.”