12
“Don’t be a coward, Son,” a ghostly voice said.
“I’m not,” I replied through clenched teeth. It was embarrassing enough to have been caught by Selene, who stood at the end of the hallway, her mouth open, one hand over it. Her blue eyes were so wide I could see the whites clearly. But that the specter who was likely my father had also found me with my hand in the Fey cookie jar burned any fear I might have had of him away.
“What. The hell. Is that?” Selene asked and pointed a trembling finger over my left shoulder.
I turned but couldn’t see anything other than the blood-splotched door.
“Tell me what you see,” I said. I clenched a fist to give my frustration somewhere to go—why could I only hear and not see him?
She backed up one shaky step. “It’s a man. A bloody man. In uniform, ma
