Chapter 12
Blake’s heart was pounding so hard, he thought it might beat right out of his chest, and it wasn’t because he’d just raced down three flights of stairs. A code black. There hadn’t been one here since his early days with Requiem, and then, even though he’d gone in, he wasn’t useful. Someone else had found the ghostwalker’s spirit and helped her cross over. That might be the case again, but he had to try. They all did.
A ghostwalker had died—really died, not just temporarily. It was a scary thought, because there wasn’t much that could take a ghostwalker out permanently. Decapitation or a completely destroyed body could do it, of course. There wouldn’t be anything for the ghostwalker to return to. Or old age, which was at least a hundred and twenty for a ghostwalker. Most lived
