by Kensie King
“Got it?” he asked.
I nodded, even though I was far from steady.
“You sure?”
My gaze traveled to Dylan’s and I gritted my teeth. He was staring at us, a frown etched at the corners of his lips.
Gage followed my gaze and his shoulders tensed.
“You know him?” I asked.
His jaw clenched. “I tried to buy one of those houses he renovated. Didn’t want to sell.”
“Maybe he just wasn’t ready to let it go.”
Gage returned his gaze to mine and lifted an eyebrow. “He didn’t want to sell it to me.”
“Why?”
He shifted and his arm brushed mine. I swore my throat dried slightly, especially because he just stayed there like we were in on this conspiracy together. “Our families don’t quite…get along.”
Now that was the kind of local town gossip I was after. But I needed more.
I eased down on the stool, and everyone else seemed fine going back to their business. Though, now I expected I was going to be part of that town gossip.
I put my hand around the glass of beer but didn’t drink. I wasn’t a lightweight, but I also liked to stay on my game for the most part and right now I felt like I was on a merry-go-round instead and I had no idea when it was going to stop.
Gage gave me an indulgent smile. “Tell me about your research.”
I considered this, not entirely ready to open up to anyone in this town, but I kind of dug Gage for not being weird about the episode I’d just had. Not only that, his gaze was mesmerizing, drawing out the words I hadn’t shared with many other people.
“I specialize in paranormal activity, supernatural happenings, even the occult,” I said with a smile. “You know, things that go bump in the night.”
“Looks like you’ve come to the right place.”
Relaxing a little, and intrigued, I sipped my beer and angled my head. “Why do you say that?”
“Knob Creek is a hotbed for things that go bump in the night. At least from what I’ve heard.”
“I’d be curious to know where you heard that.”
He grinned and then leaned in, and I swore his gaze dropped to my lips. He was close enough I could smell his woodsy cologne. Close enough I could feel the heat of his breath on my mouth when he spoke. “Everywhere.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “What?”
“I hear it everywhere. People talk about it, of course, but you can see it, too. Feel it. They have ghost tours in the old mines down by the highway. And you can’t forget about the haunted house at the end of Main Street. Then there are…” He lowered his voice and leaned in even closer. “The animals that only come out when there’s a full moon. And my favorite?”
I nodded, encouraging him to continue.
To my surprise, he reached out and touched a finger to my neck, making chills race down my spine. “The creatures that suck your blood.”
I swallowed as I remembered the fangs from my vision just before I’d passed out. The ones I’d seen when Gage touched me. Maybe it was some sort of premonition of what we were going to talk about.
“That’s impressive,” I told him, making sure to keep my voice even, though I was pretty sure no man had ever had this kind of effect on me before.
“What’s that?”
“Your gift for storytelling.” His hand slid away, and I downed the rest of my beer before standing. “But it’s been a long time since I’ve believed in myths and fairytales.”
Which wasn’t completely true, I just knew there were a lot of stories out there and most weren’t true. I’d debunked my fair share of them and had yet to see a werewolf, vampire, or ghost—if you even could see them. The stories here were probably the same as almost every other place I visited. Entirely fabricated.
Gage watched as I pulled out my wallet and left a tip for the bartender—mostly because I’d made a scene and he, like Gage, had let it go—sparing me more embarrassment.
“Are you planning on staying a bit?” Gage asked. “Maybe just to prove me wrong about the stories?”
There were eyes on me from across the room, but I kept my gaze focused on Gage.
“I’ll be here for a while,” I said.
Gage nodded and then released me from his stare. “Nice. If you have some free time, maybe I can take you on one of those tours I talked about.”
I kept my gaze diverted so I wasn’t tempted to sit down with him again. Yes, I wanted to hear more stories and yes, I was kind of enjoying getting caught in his dark stare.
But I was tired and I needed to regroup, so I gave a short goodbye and walked toward the door. Dylan was still at his table, looking pissed as hell, which for some reason made me feel better.
He shook his head, but I ignored it and finished making my way outside.
Who knew? There might be something to Knob Creek after all, and my trip here wouldn’t be entirely wasted. If there was something to find, I’d find it.
I always did.
#
It was just before six in the morning when I heard the sound of fluttering. The noise made me sit up with a jerk. I vaguely noticed the sun peeking through the edges of the curtains, but I could still hardly make out much more than the outline of the large furniture.
I rubbed my eyes and swung my legs over the side of the bed, trying to still my racing heart. My bare feet hit the motel carpeting just as the fluttering started again.
My heart jumped once more, and I stood.
What the hell?
I whipped to the desk at the wall with the window and strode to the curtains to open them. Dim light filtered into the room just in time for me to see the pages of the book I got from my mother’s house shuffling. They fluttered one way and then another, flipping like a deck of cards.
When I leaned over the desk, they stopped right in the middle. I squinted my eyes and saw the title at the top of the page. It said Curses.
My jaw clenched. I’d met witches during my research. True witches who drew their power from the elements. And not a single one was into curses. They didn’t even mention them. One time, a witch from Louisiana let me see her Book of Shadows and I hadn’t found much about curses in there either, despite all the local voodoo claims. A large majority of what I saw were spells that consisted of familiar and foreign herbs and elements from the earth, like crystals.
The book I got from my mother’s house looked a lot like that Book of Shadows. And yet…there was more. Things I hadn’t seen before.
I reached out almost hesitantly, then rolled my eyes and flipped a few pages. I saw more spells—one for healing and another for getting a better night of sleep. With a humorless laugh, I reminded myself to look at that page again later. I flipped another few pages and my hand froze. A drawing, black and white and with sharp lines, caught my eye at the bottom of the page.
Next to it were the words, Creatures of the Night.
Creatures of the night? I frowned, trying to make sense of the words. But the only thing I could think was vampires. That was what they were called around the world, in historical literature—everywhere.
But who believed in vampires anymore? Apparently my mother.
Still, I had never seen anything that led me to believe that vampires were actually real. Not in research or travels. However, that hadn’t stopped me from packing a decently sharp wooden stake when I traveled.
You know, just in case.
I might have been a lot of things but I wasn’t unprepared. Ever.
I propped my hands on my hips and debated for a long moment. I wanted to sit right down and read the book front to back, but I had no idea how long I was going to be here. I’d rather use the time to talk to the locals. Get a better feel for the place.
And see if I can figure out anything more about my mom.
With that idea in mind, I hopped into the shower and grumbled to myself when it wouldn’t get much hotter than lukewarm.
Figured.
My hair was still we
t when I stepped outside and discovered that downtown was only a short block to the west. I walked instead of driving, warming more from the sunshine than I had from the shower, and using the time to think.
Particularly about the Book of Shadows. And how handy it would be right now to have my own. I might not have fully embraced the new discovery that I was a witch, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t curious. Maybe if I knew more, if I understood why I could do the things I could do, it wouldn’t be so daunting. I’d want to utilize it instead of ignoring it.
My mom might have those answers, but I had no idea how to find her. And she clearly wasn’t interested in telling me more about her—or my—history.
Which meant she hadn’t sent me the note. It hadn’t seemed entirely logical in the first place, but I’d latched onto that thought. It made more sense than anything else I’d come up with.
But if someone else sent the note, then why? What purpose did they have for summoning me here, to a place I’d never been before?
I slowed when I spotted a stone building with stained glass windows and a curved entryway. Charming. Like it was from a different time period. The door was propped open with an old wooden wagon full of books.
I grinned when I realize what it was. A library.
Exactly what I needed.
I stepped inside and I was immediately overwhelmed by books. They stretched from floor to ceiling, filled to the brim on shelves, counters, end tables. They were everywhere.
My researcher’s heart fell in love a little. Then I noticed the librarian watching me.
She had grannie glasses perched on the end of her nose, but they were actually kind of charming since her long, blonde hair had highlights and waved away from a strong, tanned face. A nice contradiction between old and new.
“Morning,” she said, standing from a desk near a window. “Can I help you find something?”
“Local folklore,” I told her promptly. I’d learned from my research in the past that being direct usually got you what you wanted a lot faster. At least from locals in small towns like this. Usually. But then I thought back to the man at the bar last night and remember he seemed to be just as indirect as I was.
And hot. I couldn’t forget that. And dammit, I had no clue why I was thinking about him when I had more important things to do.
She lifted an eyebrow and I continued. “Myths and legends.” I smiled at her, turning on the charm. “Anything supernatural.”
This time she folded her arms, clearly impervious to my charms. I turned it up a notch with a grin and a shrug. “It’s research. I freelance for magazines and online publications. All the paranormal and out of the ordinary things I can find. I heard there’s a lot of history like that in Knob Creek.”
She returned my shrug. “Sounds like most small towns.” Then she peered at her cell phone, distracted.
My smile was frozen in place. I couldn’t afford to piss off the locals. But my tone was a little icier when I asked, “Can you point me in the right direction?”
Her gaze connected with mine again, and then she flashed a warm smile. “Sure. Local history is in the back.”
Good. I was going to find it whether she helped me or not, but I didn’t want to waste any more time.
I thanked her and walked off, figuring she was probably on her phone again. Probably texting a friend about the out-of-towner who came to hunt ghosts or whatever supernatural myths they had here.
But it was my job to figure out whether those myths were more than just stories. If they were actual history. And also if they had anything to do with my mom or my past.
I also wondered if anyone else in town knew about the things my mom can do. Those same things that used to be myth to me as well. I hadn’t believed her, and I couldn’t help the tiny flicker of guilt I felt about not giving her the benefit of the doubt.
But then I remembered she’d walked out on me and my dad and I didn’t owe her anything.
When I reached the back of the library, I found a small room also filled with books just like the rest of the building. To the right was a staircase that lead to what the sign said was a Children’s and Young Adult Section.
Decent for a small-town library.
But the first shelf wasn’t helpful at all. There were a few books on local mines and ghost tours, which I remembered Gage telling me about. Might be something to that but might not. I quirked my lip when I spotted a book about the Loch Ness monster. Yeah, right. Every single town had a lake monster in my experience, but it would be nice if they were at least creative about it. I scanned down further, then saw a book on the Knob Creek Hotel. Interested, I lifted it and read the quick summary on the back.
It was a story on the history of the hotel, which focused on the tragedy around the death of the two owners.
And supposedly it was haunted.
Shit. Guess I picked the wrong place to stay.
Tucking the book under my arm, I turned but hesitated when I heard the sound of low voices at the front of the library. One came from the snooty librarian, but the other was low. Male.
I prepared to eavesdrop—I mean, that was a great way to get information if you needed something new to go on—but then Dylan appeared at the doorway to the small room I was in. He was wearing boots that made him even taller, and a look on his face I couldn’t read.
He leaned his shoulder against the door jamb. “Looks like you’re still here.”
“Looks like you’re still an ass.”
His lips quirked in a smile. The stubble lining his jaw was thicker today, making him look rougher. Less forgiving. But also tired. I could see it in his eyes as well. He was playing tough, but there was something softer in his gray eyes. His hair was lighter than I thought, a medium shade of brown.
Dylan took a step closer. I lifted my chin. I wasn’t going to let him intimidate me, even though he clearly had an agenda. He rested his hand on the shelf next to my shoulder and looked at the books I had in my arms.
“Doing some light reading, I see,” he said, his voice deep enough it vibrated in my chest. “Knob Creek Hotel and—” His eyebrows lifted again at the next title— “Ghosts of the Knob Creek Mines.”
I nodded.
“So you’re planning on going gold mining?” he asked.
I pointed my finger at his chest. “You know exactly what I’m doing here.”
To my surprise, he captured my hand in his, grip strong enough I couldn’t pull away immediately. “Right. Mother hunting, fainting in the local bar, and taking in the ghostly history.”
I glared, trying to remove my hand from his grasp. His grip tightened. Not enough to hurt, but enough I still couldn’t get away.
“Let go,” I said, feeling heat rise inside of me. It happened whenever I was stressed, or put in a situation I didn’t want to be in.
“I thought I told you to go home.”
“And I thought you were smart enough to know you’re not the boss of me,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.
A flash of something darker flitted across his gaze. “You have no clue what you’re getting into.”
“Right now, I’m pretty sure it’s bordering on assault.”
His gaze dropped to my lips, completely making my next retort die in my throat. To my surprise, he leaned in, close enough that I felt his breath on my cheek. “Knob Creek doesn’t have the answers you’re looking for. I promise, if you say you’ll go, I’ll leave you alone.”
“What if I don’t?”
“Things are going to start getting very difficult.”
My jaw clenched. “Let go.”
He eased back, but his eyes were still locked on mine. “Then say you’ll leave.”
“Go to hell.”
Dylan frowned. “I won’t ask again.”
Fire built inside, raging heat through my entire body. It happened so fast I didn’t have time to even try to control it. In a flash, the books in my arms went up in flames.
I yelped and dropped them on the ground.
Dylan jerked back and then started stomping on them.
I shoved past him and darted to the door.
The librarian shouted after me. “Hey!”
But I didn’t stop. I didn’t even slow down. I strode through the front door and tossed a glance over my shoulder when I hit the bottom stair.
One more step and I slammed into someone’s chest.
CHAPTER 3
I stumbled backward, tripped, and hit the cement hard, scraping my palms against the rough surface and slicing one with a sharp rock.
“Lincoln?”
Gage’s hand closed around my elbow, pulling me up with surprising speed and strength. I looked up into midnight blue eyes, adrenaline still racing through my body.
“Gage,” I muttered.
He angled his head at me, amusement on his face. “Where’s the fire?”
“In there,” I said, pointing to the library. “I have to go.”
His mouth opened in surprise, and he looked torn between stopping me from making an escape from the fire I’d just told him about and escaping with me.
“Wait.” He followed me around the corner with long strides. “Is this…an escape? Are you running away?”
I leaned against the brick of the building. “Not from you.” I peered around the corner, relieved when I didn’t see Dylan or the librarian coming after me.
How was I supposed to explain what had just happened? I’d done it before—this wasn’t the first time the fire had appeared when I’d been stressed or felt threatened. But other people…what were they supposed to think?
And what was Dylan going to do now that I’d almost set him on fire?
“You hurt yourself,” Gage said, reaching for my hand. He stared at the palm, where blood was pooling on the surface. I didn’t miss his hard swallow. “You’re bleeding.”
His pulse was throbbing at his neck, like his heart was racing even though I was the one who just ran from the library. He squeezed my hand and then yanked his eyes away. “Let’s get this taken care of.”
“Just a scratch,” I told him.