“Benjamin will be fine,” I said, annoyed. “I’ll arrange for someone to come by. I just can’t go back in there.”
His eyebrows rose. “Can I ask why?”
“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”
He pressed his lips together. “I was born and raised on Wolf Mountain. I’ve lived next to Martha my entire life. Trust me, I will believe you. I’ve probably seen it myself. There is very, very little I won’t believe when it comes to Wolf Mountain.”
I searched his face for any kind of sign that he was messing with me, but my instincts told me to trust him. I offered my hand. “I’m Natalie Miller.”
He took my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Blake Elliot.”
I got out of my car and walked around to the back. “Yikes.” The bumper of my little Fiat drooped lopsided on the gravel road, but the man’s pickup didn’t seem to be damage at all.
The man sidled up beside me, his thumbs in his belt loops. “If you’re staying up here, you’ll want something a little sturdier, and you’ll definitely need four-wheel drive. These mountain roads get slick when it snows, and I can tell you first hand, the guardrails hold, but you don’t want to test them.”
“I’m not staying. I have a week off work, but my life is in Atlanta.”
Benjamin, who had been watching from Martha’s porch, sauntered down the walkway. He greeted Blake with a lick as Blake bent to scratch him behind the ears.
“Guess you’re staying tonight after all,” Benjamin said gleefully.
“We’ll see about that,” I said, gritting my teeth.
“What did you say?” Blake gave Benjamin a pat and straightened up.
“Nothing.” I got back in my car and turned on the engine. I shifted into drive and eased my foot onto the gas. A sickening scraping cut through the deafening silence of the mountains. My car wasn’t getting off this mountain without a tow truck, and I probably didn’t have enough phone reception to call one. I smacked the steering wheel with the heel of my hand. “That’s just great.”
“Are you ready to come back inside?” Benjamin’s floppy black and tan ears lifted quizzically.
“Keep talking, Benjamin. I dare you.” I tugged my phone out of my pocket and checked for service. That one bar had disappeared. “That’s it. I’m sleeping in the car.”
“Martha was stubborn, too,” Benjamin said. “But she knew when to give in.”
“I’m serious. Shut up,” I snapped.
“I didn’t say anything,” Blake said. He had crouched down near the back of my car. He wore a grimace on his face as he lifted part of my bumper off the road.
“Sorry, I wasn’t telling you to shut up,” I said.
He stood up and brushed his hands off on his jeans. “Who were you telling to shut up then?”
I rolled my window back up—at least that still worked—and climbed out of the car. “No one. Myself,” I said.
Blake cocked an eyebrow at me. “Are you sure you weren’t talking to Benjamin?”
How did he know that? I wondered.
As if reading my thoughts, Blake said, “Martha talked to Benjamin, too. Apparently, he’s pretty sarcastic. That’s what she always told me.”
“Dogs can’t talk to people,” I said, testing the waters.
“Dogs can’t, but familiars can,” Blake said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to say.
“Can you, um, hear him?” I nodded at Benjamin. “Hear him talk?”
“No, Natalie, don’t be dense,” Benjamin said. “We’ve gone over this. Familiars can only communicate with their witch. Witches can only understand their familiars.”
“He’s talking to you now, isn’t he?” Blake asked.
I nodded. “Did you understand him?”
“No,” Blake said with regret. “That would be cool, though.”
“I don’t really think it’s cool. I saw some weird stuff in the cabin just now that really freaked me out.”
“Well, I’ve got good news and bad news. The good news is, you’re not going crazy.” Blake’s mouth curved in a lopsided smile. “You really are a witch. Martha told me as much. She was a witch, too. A powerful one. So the dog’s really talking to you. You’re not having some kind of psychotic break.”
I laughed nervously. “And the bad news?”
Blake shrugged. “Bad news is, there’s a lot more weird were that came from. You haven’t seen anything yet.”
“You’re right, that is bad news,” I said, but deep down, I was starting to feel better. At least I wasn’t crazy.
Blake yanked his car keys from his back pocket and slid off one of the keys. “Here,” he said, handing it to me. “That’s the spare key to Martha’s cabin.” He nodded at the set of keys I clutched in my fist. “One of those keys will probably get you into my place, too. Martha would keep an eye on things whenever I traveled for work.” He grinned. “You can hold on to it if you want. If Martha trusted you, I trust you, too.”
“Charming,” Benjamin drawled. “He’s flirting with you. I’m going inside.” With that, Benjamin gracefully bounded back into Martha’s cabin. He slipped through the door I’d flung wide open and left swaying in the wind.
“So you can’t hear any of that?” I jabbed my thumb in Benjamin’s direction. “Him talking?”
“I hear him bark and growl—things like that,” Blake said. “But I take it you heard something else.”
“Yes.”
Blake kicked at the ground with the heel of his sneaker. “I’ll do a walkthrough of the house with you, if you want. I’m not sure what you saw in there, but from what I know, Martha has put every protection spell ever invented on that cabin. It’s probably the safest place on Wolf Mountain.”
“I can’t ask you to do that. It’s 3 A.M.,” I protested.
“I was in L.A. For the week. I’m still on west coast time.”
I glanced over my shoulder, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. Was it weird that I legitimately wanted to ask Benjamin if this Blake guy was ok to let into the house? I pushed the thought away. Benjamin was my familiar, not my father. Plus, Martha and Blake were close—he had a key to the front door! “Sure, come on in,” I said.
Blake turned a dial on the the wall, and a roaring fire appeared in the fireplace. “The fireplace has a timer. You can turn it on and off whenever you want. My cabin has the same one, actually. The cabin on this part of the mountain were built to be vacation rentals, so they all have a similar layout.” He added, “Martha owns almost all of the rentals on the mountain as well as the lodge and the slopes.”
“And now I do,” I said quietly. I popped the cork on a bottle of red wine I’d found on Martha’s wine rack and poured two glasses.
“You think you’re going to keep it?” Blake asked.
“Not a chance.” I set the bottle on the coffee table and handed Blake a glass of red before settling into the couch. “It’s a beautiful cabin, but I don’t like being here. It feels I’m there’s someone else in the house with me, watching me.” I shuddered. “And I am never, ever going down into that basement again.”
Blake’s eyes flicked to the basement door where I’d barricaded the door with a chair. “That was where Martha did her magic. She was a good woman. She took care of the mountain, keeping everyone safe.”
“Safe from what?” I asked. When Blake didn’t answer right away, I said, “Animal attacks?”
Blake took a sip of the wine and took a seat on the arm chair beside the fireplace. “It wasn’t an animal attack. Not by any animal you’re familiar with anyway.”
“What was it?”
“I’m not sure.” Blake tapped his finger against his glass thoughtfully. “What did you find in the basement?”
I sighed. “Here’s where it gets really weird,” I said. “Prepare yourself.” I leaned forward. “At first I didn’t see anything. Just an empty room with a couple random pieces of furniture. There was a black book on the coffee table. When I picked it up, all this
other stuff appeared—shelves of weird witchy things.”
“That black book is Martha’s spell book. It has been passed down in your family from witch to witch,” he said. “The empty room was a glamour. When you touched the book, the glamour faded and you saw the room for what it really looked like.”
“How do you know all of this stuff?”
He took another sip. “I spend a lot of time researching the occult. It’s part of my job, I suppose. And when I can’t find any reliable resources, I talked to Martha. She got a kick talking to me about it.”
“What’s your job? Are you, like, an exorcist or something?”
He laughed, and the made all the lines on his forehead disappear for a moment. He looked boyish then. “That would be a cool job, but no. I write screenplays and direct movies.”
“Really?” I paused. “Horror movies?”
“Bingo,” Blake set down is glass and went to the shelves near the tv. “Martha has all of my movies. Sometimes, I’d fly her out for the premieres. She liked to think of herself as my muse, and she kind of was.” He selected a DVD from the shelf and tossed it on the coffee table. “That one will tell you all about witches. It’s a bit campy, but it’s all based on the history of the Carolina Witches.” His eyes lit up. “And there’s a dog in it that looks just like Benjamin. The special effects are hilarious. It looks just like he’s talking.”
In the corner, Benjamin snorted.
Blake’s excitement faded when he looked at the rest of the movies. “You probably shouldn’t watch any of these other ones. It might be a lot to take in.”
“You’re saying all of the stuff in those movies is true?”
He considered. “Mostly. Everyone’s more attractive in the movie.” Then his eyes moved to me and his cheeks flushed. “Except for you, obviously.”
Another snort came from Benjamin, and this time, it definitely sounded like a laugh.
I ignored him. “I saw her in the basement. Benjamin and I both saw her.”
“Martha?” Blake’s eyes went wide, and almost hopeful. “I’d kill to see her again. She’s probably the presence you feel in the house, and if that’s the case, you can sleep easy. Martha was fiercely protective of the people she loved.” He looked at Benjamin. “The non-people, too.”
“She said I had to find out who murdered her.”
“That’s ironic.” Blake sat back in arm chair. “Martha always loved a good whodonit. She was always the person I bounced my story ideas off of because she was good at picking them apart and finding all the plot holes.”
“So if it wasn’t an animal attack,” I said slowly, “What was it?”
The flames in the fireplace cast dancing shadows over his face. “There are a lot of things on this mountain that could kill a person and make it look like an animal attack. Your aunt was a good person, but she had a lot of enemies. Wolf Mountain can be a dangerous place, and she took it upon herself to keep everyone safe—make sure to keep the balance between good and evil.” He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. “We’ll need to get more info from Angie. I’m sure she was holding back because she didn’t want to scare you. I suppose it could have been a werewolf. Then, of course, there are the other covens in the area. One in particular is rumored to practice black magic, but I’m kind of on a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ kind of arrangement with them,” he explained matter-of-factly. “There are shapeshifters out there, too. They look just like regular people most of the time. Martha would add an entry to her book whenever she came across a new one. There are demons, too. And forest spirits, and—”
“Stop. Ok, just stop.” I set my glass down. “I get that this seems normal to you and you’re trying to help, but it’s a lot to handle right now.”
“Sorry. You’re right. I get a little overenthusiastic sometimes.” He downed the rest of the wine and got up to load his glass in the dishwasher. Blake definitely felt comfortable in Martha’s house. “It’s late—or early, I guess. Knock on my door in the morning. We can get the car stuff figured out.”
“Thank you,” I said, following him to the door. I didn’t want him to leave so soon, but it would be morning in a couple hours anyway. I could survive. I’d just sleep with all the lights on and hope nothing tried to kill me in the night like poor Aunt Martha.
“Lock the door behind me,” he said. “You’ll be all right for tonight.”
I watched him walk across the driveway to his cabin, and I had to admit, he looked good in those Levi jeans.
“Are you checking him out?” Benjamin sat in the middle of the foyer, lurking behind me.
“No,” I said quickly. I could feel my face getting warm. “I’m just making sure he makes it home ok.”
“To his home next door?” Benjamin’s yellow eyes seem to glitter.
“Stop looking at me like that.” I closed the door and locked up.
Chapter 7
I opened my eyes and squinted as my vision adjusted to the sunlight. At first, I couldn’t remember where I was until I sat up and saw the fireplace and the half-full bottle of wine on the coffee table.
Bright midday sun streamed through the large windows. I got up and tugged at my shirt, smoothing it out.
I had ended up falling asleep on the sofa in my clothes, not because I’d been tired, but because I’d been too chicken to sleep upstairs alone.
Someone knocked on the front door, and I realized that was probably what had awoken me. I looked over at the chair where Benjamin had slept last night, but all that was left of him was a layer of thick, wiry black hair coating the chair. I staggered to the door, rubbing my eyes, and regretting that last glass of red wine.
My heart sped up when I caught sight of Blake’s pretty navy eyes through the window. I stepped behind the door and frantically combed my fingers though my hair.
“You look terrible,” Benjamin announced as he trotted down the stairs from the second floor.
I stopped messing with my hair. “Was that really necessary, Benjamin?”
Benjamin ignored me and headed over to his water bowl were he proceeded to make the most slobbery drinking noises I’d ever heard.
“Gross,” I muttered. Then I took a deep breath, and whipped open the door. “Hi Blake! You’re up early,” I said, hoping I sounded more cheerful than I felt.
Blake had on a snug cotton t-shirt and another pair of well-loved jeans. Unlike my blonde rat’s nest of a hairdo, Blake’s sandy hair looked perfectly tousled. “Early?” He grinned. “It’s almost lunchtime. Glad you got some sleep though. I was worried I’d scared you with all that monster talk last night.”
Benjamin slid past me again and bounded up the stairs, dripping water everywhere. I pursed my lips. Why couldn’t I have ended up with a cat familiar? Or, better yet, a fish.
If Blake noticed my change in expression, he didn’t comment on it. “I’m headed into town for groceries. I thought I’d see if you wanted a ride down the mountain. Phone service is better down there, and Lola’s has the best wifi, coffee and donuts around.”
“Coffee, donuts, and wifi. I’m in.” I rubbed my head, trying to gauge how greasy my hair was. Then I decided a messy bun would work just fine for today. After all, this was my vacation. “Give me five minutes, and I’ll be right out.”
The drive down to Lola’s wasn’t the most comfortable. First of all, Benjamin just had to come along. For my “protection”, he’d claimed.
Sure, it was.
That was why he had his head out the passenger-side window of Blake’s truck, tongue hanging out, drool flying in the wind. Plus, having Benjamin in the front seat of Blake’s truck meant three was very little room left for me.
I had to spend the whole time trying not to land in Blake’s lap every time we hit a bump. And trust me, that gravel road had a lot of bumps.
Blake dropped me and Benjamin off at the bakery which was bustling with activity. I was told to “take a seat anywhere” by a petite woman with red hair and rosy cheeks. To my surprise, Benjamin
led to way to a corner booth, and hopped gracefully unto the seat.
“Benjamin,” I hissed. “Get down.”
Benjamin regarded me cooly. “I’ve been coming to this bakery and sitting in this very table for over fifty years,” he said. “And I’m allowing you to sit here. You’re welcome.”
Just then, the red-headed woman appeared at our table with two apple fritters. “Hey there, cutie,” she said, giving Benjamin a pat on the head. “I just took these out of the oven. I thought you could use a little sugar. Bet you really miss her, huh?”
Benjamin licked the woman’s hand and tore into the fritters, chomping like he’d never seen food before.
I watched in horror, wondering what the health inspector would have to say about this.
“Coffee for you?” The woman asked me, holding out a pot of coffee.
I flipped my mug over. “Yes, please. And I’ll have an order of chocolate chip pancakes.”
“Sure thing,” she said, pouring me a cup. “You must be Martha’s niece,” she said, leaning against the booth, resting her elbow on her hip.
I nodded. “I’m Natalie Miller.”
“Lola Honeycutt.” Everything about this woman was cute. She had a smattering of freckles across her nose, and her snug apron showed off her petite curvy frame. “I’m so sorry for your loss. I didn’t know your aunt all that well, but her and Benjamin would be in here a couple times a week, wouldn’t you, Boy?” She smoothed her hand down Benjamin’s back.
Benjamin, who had already devoured the fritters, was now hunched over the table, sniffing for crumbs.
Lola laughed. “Hungry, I see.”
“I don’t know why,” I muttered. “Considering he just ate before we left.”
“You fed me dog food.” Benjamin lifted his head and glared at me, before going back to bathing the table with his flat pink tongue.
“You’re a dog,” I said, wrapping my hands round my coffee mug, protecting it from Benjamin’s spit flecks.
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