by H G Lynch
We sat in an awkward silence for a moment, before I asked, “So…what’s Spencer’s problem?” After I said it, I wished I hadn’t. I needed to stop bitching about his brother, but I couldn’t help it. The guy got under my skin, and he’d barely said ten words to me. There was just something about him.
Dominic didn’t seem to care about my snarkiness. He sighed, his mouth turned down at the corners. “Our dad…he really is great, but he doesn’t always treat Spencer the same way he treats me and Des,” he said carefully, tugging on one of his curls.
I frowned. “Why not?”
He hesitated again, biting his lip as if he was unsure how much to tell me. I got the feeling there were things about his family—about all of the people I’d met at the camp, really—that they didn’t want me, or any other outsider, to know. It made me anxious, but I could hardly begrudge them their privacy and their secrets, when I had so many of my own.
Finally, Dominic seemed to decide it was okay to tell me about Spencer, and he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, keeping his voice low as if someone might overhear, though we were about half a mile from camp.
“You know I told you Spencer’s only my half-brother?” He started, and I nodded. “Well, a few months before he was born, his mother ran away from our dad. Then she got really ill and died when he was a toddler. One day, someone just left him at our front door. We don’t know who, or how they knew who the baby’s dad was, but someone did and they just left him there for us. So my dad took him in, and he’s been with us ever since. But…I think my dad sometimes forgets it isn’t Spencer’s fault his mother ran away. I think he really loved her, and when she left, it kind of broke his heart. So he’s kind of harsh to Spencer sometimes.” He shook his head, frowning.
“Spencer doesn’t help himself, though. You’ve seen how he is. He’s…distant from the rest of us. He likes to go and hide in the woods, and he stays there for hours. He always comes back but...” Dominic paused, sighing, and turned to gaze into the darkness beyond our little dimly lit clearing, staring at something I couldn’t see. There was sadness in his green eyes, shadowing them, and a softness to the shape of his mouth that told me he loved his half-brother, despite Spencer’s distant attitude.
When he spoke again, his voice was so soft I barely heard it, and he kept his eyes on some spot in the trees, as if he was talking to Spencer himself. Quietly, he murmured, “Sometimes I worry that the next time he goes off alone, he won’t come back.”
Chapter Five
** Tilly **
For the second night in a row, I woke up out of a nightmare while the moon was still up.. I jerked awake so violently that I nearly toppled over the edge of the creaky camping bed. I caught myself just in time and clamped a hand over my mouth as I squeaked, not wanting to wake Sarah. Thankfully, she was quite a heavy sleeper, so she didn’t twitch, even when the bed protested my getting up out of it at oh-god-no o’clock. It was time for me to leave.
I’d only half undressed before flopping into bed, so I pulled off my borrowed nightie with my shorts still on underneath, and tugged on the black t-shirt and hoodie. As I laced up my trainers, my hands finally stopped shaking from the nightmare, but there was a cold spot just under my sternum and a knot in my stomach. I felt bad about leaving without as much as a thank you and goodbye. I knew Dominic would worry about me when he woke up tomorrow morning and I was just gone. I didn’t even really want to leave, but I knew I had to. That wasn’t my place, and if I stayed, I risked them finding me there and hurting those nice people just for helping me. I couldn’t risk that. So I gathered my resolve and slipped out of the tent, leaving Sarah sleeping soundly.
Outside, the night air was sharp with a chill, but it felt good against my damp neck and forehead. Pausing, I looked around the camp, at the cosy tents pitched in a circle, and the foldout table in the centre. Inside each of the tents, slept people who had probably saved my life by taking me in when I was injured and letting me stay there for two days after I woke up. Good people, friendly people. Dominic. I hoped that, wherever I ended up when I got the hell out of there and as far away from them as possible, I might meet more people like these.
Yeah, I should be so lucky, I thought with a mental eye roll. So far, my life hadn’t exactly been made up of lucky moments, but I could always hope.
Feeling a pang of guilt and sadness, I turned away from the tents and headed into the thick darkness of the trees. Everything was still and quiet, the only sounds were the murmuring of leaves in the cool breeze and the babble of the stream. The trees seemed to close in on me like a protective guard as I walked, tall and kind. Ferns brushed my ankles, curling round my legs as if trying to stop me from leaving. The moon was just a slice of silver in the pitch-black sky. It lent a milky glow to the leaves and illuminated my path just enough that I didn’t trip on roots or fallen branches, since I couldn’t afford to tune out and let the woods guide me. I needed to stay focussed, already knowing there was at least one wolf out there somewhere and it could come back for me at any time. I didn’t know why it didn’t eat me the first time, but I wouldn’t be holding my breath for a repeat of that consideration if it found me again.
At some point, I decided, not entirely consciously, that my safest bet of finding a way out of the woods was to follow the stream. I don’t know why I thought it, but I ended up walking along the side of the stream anyway, watching it swirl and twinkle in the moonlight and listening to its soft mumbling rhythm. The breeze, scented with wildflower fragrances and the musky, indefinable perfume of the woods, stirred my hair around my face, the pale strands catching the light so they looked almost silver.
I wasn’t sure how long I’d been walking, maybe twenty minutes, when I got the feeling I wasn’t alone. It started as a tingling across the back of my neck, and rapidly progressed to full out shivers juddering up my spine, the hairs on my arms prickling warningly. Telling myself there was nothing there, I tried not to panic. I kept walking, breathing steadily, but the feeling grew stronger with every step. I realised I couldn’t hear the hum of the stream anymore for the pounding of my blood in my ears. Forcing myself to stand still and relax, I closed my eyes and let a little of the trees’ calming energy seep into me.
Then I opened my eyes and slowly turned my head to see what, if anything, was following me. At first, I didn’t see it—it was so dark. I thought it was just another shadow, but then it moved. I bit down on a gasp as a sleek, jet-black wolf slunk out of the trees just a couple of metres away from me. It was the same wolf from earlier that day, I was sure of it.
Without a gun pointed at my head, I could fully appreciate the beauty of the beast. It was large and powerful looking, with a healthy shine to its pure black fur, and it moved with the silent, liquid grace of a predator. Its gold eyes fixed on me, and I set my shoulders back, trying to look as big as I could—not that it mattered. If it wanted to eat me, it would eat me, and no amount of posturing would deter it.
There was still just enough of the woods’ energy flowing into me that I wasn’t panicking. Yet. I should have been, but I wasn’t. I was fascinated. The wolf was so beautiful, and it was just standing there, staring at me with oddly gentle golden eyes. It didn’t look angry or hungry, and didn’t look as if it would attack me. It seemed to be…waiting for something.
Mustering whatever courage I could, I let out my breath slowly and raised a hand, flat with the palm up, toward the wolf. Its ears twitched, it cocked its head, abruptly turned, and took off—loping into the darkness between the trees with eerily silent movements.
I waited several minutes for it to come back, maybe with reinforcements. When it didn’t, I finally relaxed, letting go of the energy I’d been pulling from the woods around me. The second I let that go, my heart jerked and spluttered, as if it had been held back from the start of a race and had to catch up. I stood for another minute, breathing hard, willing myself to stop trembling. The adrenaline in my veins finally started to abate, and I shuddered once, violent
ly, before taking a tentative step forward.
“Where are you going?”
The sudden voice made me jump, and I shrieked as I spun around, my newly settled heart rate kicking up again. Adrenaline gave a short, sharp burst through my blood, and I squeezed my hands flat over my chest as if I could hold my heart inside that way. In the darkness, it took me a moment to spot who had spoken. I wasn’t in the least surprised to see Spencer leaning against a tree with his dark head slightly bowed and his arms folded, hiding in the shadows under the boughs.
I glared at him. “Goddammit, Spencer! You scared the hell out of me!” I snarled.
His eyes flashed up to mine, icy blue. I thought I saw the corner of his mouth tilt up. I curled my hands into fists, shoving them back into my pockets, so I wouldn’t be tempted to hit him.
“Good. I’m glad I scared you. I already warned you there were dangerous things out here at night.”
I swore there was a hint of amusement in his voice. He pushed himself away from the tree with one fluid movement, and stalked toward me with his hands in his jeans pockets. I lifted my chin and met his icy stare defiantly, which seemed to tick him off. He set his jaw and narrowed his eyes to cold blue slits.
“And I told you I could handle myself,” I said sharply, refusing to take my eyes away from his, although his glare was piercing enough to make me uncomfortable all the way to my toes.
He shifted his weight a little toward me, a tiny, but inherently menacing movement. I instinctively rolled my weight back half a step, but I didn’t take my eyes off his. The freaky thing was, he didn’t blink. Not once. My eyes were starting to sting, but he looked as if he would stand and glower at me all night without blinking at all.
In the end, I blinked—I had to—and he seemed to take it as a victory. He eased his weight back fractionally, no longer imposing, but still unmistakably immovable. I had no idea what kind of mind game he was trying to play, but I didn’t want to play it. I wanted to leave…or, I had wanted to leave until he’d showed up. Suddenly, I felt oddly compelled to stay there and find out why exactly he’d come after me.
He gave me a wry, knowing smile, and I nearly choked on what I’d been about to say.
“Yes,” he said quietly, in a strangely intimate voice that made me shudder from head to toe. “Yes, I’d say you can handle yourself okay,” he murmured, tilting his head as if he was eyeing me up for a fight…or for something else.
My face grew hot, and I looked down swiftly so my hair screened my face. I did not like him one bit, and I really wanted to know why the hell he’d stalked me out there. Just to scare the bloody blue hell out of me and engage me in a staring competition? No, he wouldn’t waste his time talking to me unless he had a reason.
Spencer dropped his gaze to the shivering stream and dipped his toes into the water, spreading ripples. It was the first time I’d noticed he was barefoot, and I wondered if that was why I hadn’t heard him coming up behind me.
“Were you leaving so soon? Without even saying goodbye?” he asked, his tone mocking.
Though he didn’t look at me, I saw the corner of his mouth curl upward, a flash of blue showing under his half-lowered lids. Just for a moment, I thought there might have been a note of something else under the mocking, but then he cut his eyes to me under his lashes, and I decided I was imagining things.
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” I replied sharply, crossing my arms like a sulky twelve-year-old. I hated how petulant I sounded, but it was petulance or violence, and I didn’t think Dominic would appreciate me knocking his half-brother into the stream.
Spencer withdrew his foot from the water slowly, his annoying half-smile dying. Seeing only his profile, I couldn’t read his expression, and when he spoke, I couldn’t quite figure out his tone either.
“It’s my business because I’m the one who saved you. I could have left you there, unconscious, for the wolves or whomever you’re running from to find you.” He still didn’t look at me, but his jaw tensed. Even standing still, he looked defensive and agitated.
I stared at him for a moment, trying to work out if he really could have left me there if he hadn’t been overwhelmed by a single moment of sincere humanity. He was just impossible to read, but Dominic and Desmond had both said Spencer wasn’t a bad guy, he was just distant.
Giving up on trying to figure out the level of his detachment from human feelings, I asked, “Why did you?”
He looked at me, blinked, and frowned. “What?”
I almost smiled at having apparently caught him off guard with my question. “Why did you save me instead of leaving me there?”
His frown deepened, his expression darkening. He looked away from me sharply, raising his foot as though he might stick it in the water again, and then hesitated. “Because,” he said in a low, thick voice, “I’m not a monster.” He kicked the water, sending up a spray of glistening drops that caught the moonlight.
“Why are you leaving?” Spencer asked suddenly, his narrowed eyes fixed on my face and watching me intently.
It made something inside me quiver, whether with fear or something else, I couldn’t be sure. I swallowed and looked away, glancing down at the silvery stream. Under the surface, there was a small white stone shining, out of place amongst the darker pebbles.
I knelt as I spoke, so I wouldn’t have to look at Spencer, but I could still feel his gaze burning cold on the back of my neck. “I’m leaving because this isn’t my place. It was…kind of you to save me, and for your family and friends to look after me, but I can’t stay here. I’d rather leave before I wear out my welcome.”
I reached into the water, the liquid coldness of it shocking the nerves in my fingers, and grasped the little white stone. Pulling it out, I saw it wasn’t plain white after all; there was a swirl of pale blue on it, and inside the swirl was a freckling of gold. It looked like something precious that someone must have dropped. I doubted they’d be coming back for it, so I decided to keep it.
I dried my hand on my shorts, and when I looked up, Spencer was still staring at me. It was disconcerting. I glared up at him from the grass, rolling my new pebble across my palm.
“Anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?” I grumbled.
Spencer blinked, his expression smoothing out. His mouth curved up in an approximation of a smile, and he said, “No, I don’t believe anyone ever has.”
He hesitated a moment, then sank down to the grass next to me, and half-turned away from me toward the stream. His black hair seemed haloed with the silver light of the moon. I saw past my dislike of him for just long enough to remember he was amazingly attractive, and he couldn’t be all bad—he had saved me and brought me to the camp.
Then he glanced at me sideways, a flicker of blue under his lashes, and said, “You’re not very bright, are you?”
The moment of generous thinking toward him was over, and I glared at him, stung by the insult. “And what makes you think that?” I asked, my voice biting. How would he even know? That was the longest conversation we’d had, and we hadn’t exactly been discussing Pythagorean Theorem.
Spencer raised one eyebrow, just a fraction, effectively expressing what he thought of my having to ask why he thought I was an idiot. “You’re leaving a safe place, with nowhere to go, no food, no money, or anything but the clothes you’re wearing, in the middle of the night, and you honestly expect to get somewhere. I’d say you could make it five more miles before you’d break an ankle or get eaten by something.”
He seemed amused by the idea of me getting eaten. I was starting to think it wouldn’t be enough to just push him in the stream. I should hogtie him first, and then push him.
“I’m not stupid. I was going to make a trip into town. I have a friend there who could help me out,” I said, suddenly thinking of Tamara. I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of going to her before, but it seemed like a good idea. I’d have to swear her to secrecy, but she’d already known I’d been planning on escapin
g the witches, because we’d talked about running away together for ages. She wanted to escape her alcoholic stepdad and go to a real city with more than one bookstore.
“Town, huh?” Spencer murmured, looking caught between smugness and laughter. He lifted a hand, and without looking away from the water, pointed backward over his shoulder. “Town’s that way.”
Oh yeah, he was smug. I gritted my teeth, feeling a wave of embarrassment at my own inept sense of direction turning my face red. Of course I’d been going the wrong way, why had I even thought that going by the stream was a good idea in the first place? Not a clue.
I sprang to my feet, angry, humiliated and feeling despair rushing up to me. If I couldn’t even find my way out of the woods, how would I ever take care of myself in the real world? I’d probably end up living under a bridge with a hobo named George and his ugly dog Maxwell.
Tears prickled my eyes, and I turned away from Spencer to scrub at them, refusing to let him see he’d wounded me. He was such an ass, but he was right, too. Where was I going, in the middle of the night? I was going to end up in a ditch as a wolf’s chew toy.
A hand touched my shoulder lightly, and I jumped, whacking the hand away. “Don’t touch me!” I snarled, glaring at Spencer through tear blurred eyes.
He was developing a nasty habit of creeping up on me like that, and I didn’t like it. If a human could sneak up on me, I didn’t stand a chance against my creepy adoptive family, who had all sorts of Stealth Potions and Sneaking Charms at their disposal—half of them made with my power. Dammit!
Three feet away, Spencer stood with his hands up, palms toward me, as if I was a wild animal that he was trying not to frighten. There was no mocking or coldness in his face, and the way his hair fell into his eyes made him look younger, gentler. “Relax, Tilly. I’m not going to hurt you,” he said quietly.
I believed him, just as I had believed Dominic when he’d said nobody would hurt me. I thought it might have been the first time Spencer had called me by my name. He eased a step toward me, and I went still, wondering what he was doing. A breath of air lifted fine strands of dark hair around his face, brushing them across his brow and cheekbones. His eyes stayed steady on mine, and he kept his hands where I could see them. Another step toward me, and he was close enough to touch me, but he didn’t. He just stared at me evenly, unmoving, until my heart began to slow and my tears subsided.