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Hunter: Slowly, Now

It had been hours since the explosive start of the concert, and the band had left the stage. I followed them, unwilling to be alone, and my wolf followed me. Now we hung out backstage with them, drinking and laughing, like we hadn’t a care in the world. Oh how wrong we were.

See, though I didn’t know it, in the real world, my body had become unresponsive. What doctors call a coma. But, my mind, my soul, it wandered, sending me here— which I did not know was actually a real place, actual real happenings. I dudn’t know that this band had been gifted the ability to see such wandering spirits, and to outsiders it looked like they spoke to one another, not to me.

Alas, I was unaware of all of this. I sat backstage with the guys, and we laughed and joked and did what we wanted to do.

Meanwhile? Meanwhile, Jason paced at the foot of the hospital bed. Mack lay in a heap beside the night table, and commandeering the sole chair of the room was Amy. She held my body’s limp, unresponsive hand and fretted.

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