Page 165 of Land of Ghosts

He grasps my chin. “No,” he says, and his eyes are lost, unfocused. He takes a deep breath and rests his forehead against mine. “Easy, Emily. Slow down.”

We’re both panting.

“Have we run out of time here?”

“Not yet. But I need a moment,” he says, and I know he’s trying to calm down.

Like me. As my composure returns, I glance around, wondering if I’ll see the figures in the mist. But there’s nothing but the bare, bleak landscape.

“Is this all there is here?” I ask.

“Pretty much.”

“But it’s empty.”

“Not really. It’s an ethereal plane, Beauchamp,” Tristan says, and his mouth twists in an ironic smile. “There are people arriving all the time. And some of us are unwilling to move on from here.”

“What does that mean?”

“We’re lost souls. Stuck. Drifting through. Unsure what to do. Frightened to move on. Frightened to let go.”

“Are you frightened?”

“No. Not when I’m with you.” He wraps me in his arms again, holding me tight. And I wonder for a moment if it’s possible for me to stay wrapped in his arms like this for all eternity. I feel such peace. “This is heaven for me,” he whispers into my hair.

I curl around him and his lips find mine.

When he pushes us apart again, our breathing is ragged. “Wake up,” he says. “Before I do something I regret.”

“What? Please?”

“No, Emily. Wake up.”

My head was pounding, and I was completely disoriented. Sunlight blazed through the windows as I’d forgotten to draw the blinds, again, and I winced, closing my eyes as the light sliced through my brain.

“Ugh.”

I was exhausted and needed something to ease my headache. As I lay gathering my strength to surface, memories of the night before invaded my thoughts.