5
“What do you mean?” He stretched his hand toward my legs. “The box is right there.”
“No, not this one.”
Killian worked his jaw. “You’re saying you feel another box?”
I rubbed my chest, the pull fainter now, but still there. “I think so.”
He shook his head. “How is that possible?”
“I don’t know. How can I open this one?” I toed the bag at my feet. “How are the warlocks finding us? There are too many questions we don’t have the answer for.”
“Are … are you sure it’s a box?” He sounded irritated as if I was doing this on purpose.
“Of course I’m not sure!” My own irritation spiked. “But … it feels like the one we have, right after I used it.” And hurt him. “The box, or whatever it is, is calling me.”
Killian narrowed his eyes, his knuckles white around the wheel. “I don’t like this.”
