by J. K Harper
“Okay, maybe you’re an unknown entity. And my role as alpha is to ensure my sleuth is safe from unknown entities.”
“You seemed okay with my unknown entity back in that kitchen.”
“And then you made a damn ball of blue fire out of thin air!”
“You’re housing an animal that could probably swallow me whole in one big gulp. I’m not standing here holding that against you.”
“I’m not holding anything against you. I told you, I’m processing.”
“Processing,” she repeated, numb. “You say that as though I’m a package to be sorted down at the local post office. Save your energy. I may smell a certain way to you, and your light may look a certain way to me, but that doesn’t mean anything. You’re your own person, and I’m my own person. Nothing has to come from this. You’re free to go find a mate more to your specific tastes.”
She might as well have slapped him across his handsome face. His dark brows knitted together, and a flash of dazzling green lit his eyes. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do.” Hazel bottled her feelings just as she might cap off a specialty brew of Fancy Fortescue. She resumed walking, balling her fists inside her coat pockets.
“Hey, don’t walk away!”
“Go be with your family, Hudson. It’s Christmas Eve. I’d rather you not feel obligated to be out here right now.”
“I’m not leaving you out here,” he groused, tromping after her.
“I can assure you I don’t require a babysitter.”
“I’m still not leaving you.” A low growl accompanied his words. “I’ll be damned if I let you think I’d settle for anyone other than my mate.”
Hazel did not reply.
Chapter 5
A Darker Cold
Shit, shit, shit. Five minutes alone with her, and he’d fucked everything.
He was a goddamn grizzly bear. He was alpha of his sleuth. He had a mate with eyes like starshine. He shouldn’t have flinched with her.
She presented no threat. She’d saved everything tonight, not just Christmas. The Holloway sleuth would have never recovered from Beckett’s loss.
And Hudson still fucking flinched.
He shouldn’t have even thought about comparing her to a bear. That alone was insult enough. But he’d had to say it out loud, too.
Fucking moron.
“You got a long drive ahead?” he asked, trying to return to polite conversation.
“Can’t wait to get rid of me, eh? Jeez. I get it, already.”
“What? No. I’m trying to find out where you live without sounding like a total creep.” Bear-ing the fuck up, he seized her waist and tugged her toward him. She stiffened under his touch, a look of warning in her eyes. “I don’t want you to be a bear. I know lots of bears, but I don’t know a single one outside of my own sleuth who would have done what you did tonight. You don’t know us, but you still spent your Christmas Eve making sure my nephew got home. If all witches are as kind as you, then I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to meet one.”
Her lips tightened into a frown, and her uncertainty lingered.
“I’ve offended you, and I’m sorry.”
“Wears Valley,” she said after a moment.
“Sorry?”
“I live in Wears Valley.”
“That’s near Roundtop Mountain, right?”
“Right under it. I have a beautiful view.”
“It’s a fair drive,” he said, thoughtful.
“I’ll manage.”
“The roads are all slick. My house is a mile back. You’re welcome to stay the night.”
She shot him a disbelieving look. “What kind of girl do you think I am?”
“The kind who would take my bed while I sleep on the sofa downstairs.”
“Oh, so you’re a gentleman?”
“My mama didn’t raise me to be otherwise. There was never much she could do to keep me from shoving my foot into my mouth, though.”
The corners of Hazel’s lips twitched. “Well, that’s mighty kind of you to offer, but I should head home after this. I’ve never missed a Christmas morning with my family.”
He knew he couldn’t expect her to stay, considering the holiday, so he forced himself to nod. “Do you have any siblings?”
“Just me.”
“And your parents are witches, too?”
“My father’s a witch. My mother’s a shifter.”
“Is she a cat? I keep picking up hints of cat on you.”
“She’s a mountain lion.”
Hudson whistled. “Sharp claws.”
“I’m sure you know a thing or two about sharp claws.”
“So you’re part wildcat. Nice.”
Rolling her tongue, she mimicked a purr. “Do I appeal more to your feral sensibilities now?”
“You appeal to my everything.”
Moonlight beamed down through the canopy of skeletal limbs and spherical nests of snow-covered mistletoe. Regretfully, Hudson noted she still appeared to be guarding herself.
“So, this is what you do?” he asked, keeping his tone light and casual lest he make her even warier. “Brew whiskey by day, hunt ghosts by night?”
“Sorta. And you spend your days hammering away near a forge, I imagine.”
“Something like that.”
“What do you make?”
“Anything. My sculptural stuff does well. The touristy folks in Gatlinburg buy it up quicker than I can weld.”
She double-checked him. “Wait, do you do those iron sculptures of angel wings?”
“Bird wings,” he said, surprised. “You’ve seen ‘em?”
“We have a shop on the strip next to Gallery Gatlinburg. Your wings are hard to miss. They do disappear rather quickly. I almost bought a set last year, but they were gone by the time I went back.” She pouted, and Hudson would be damned if she didn’t have the sweetest grumpy-face.
“I’ll make a custom pair just for you.”
“Oh, you don’t have to.”
“It’s happening. Give me a month. How do you feel about bronze?”
“I’d prefer iron. I was thinking of hanging them outside my front door.”
“To keep out the evil spirits?” he asked, bemused.
“Yes, actually. Witches attract darkness, you know. It’s drawn to our light.”
Hudson bristled. “Witch work follows you home?”
“Nothing I can’t handle. Why wings?”
“They’re a challenge. And I think people like the ambiguity. Some see birds. Others angels. I suppose it says something about you, depending on which you see.”
“And what do you suppose it says about me? I thought they were angel wings.”
“I think it says you’re hopeful. You believe in something bigger than yourself. Or maybe that you’re a part of something bigger.”
“We all are,” she said softly. “We just don’t always realize it.”
She drew to an abrupt stop. Glancing around, Hudson realized this was where they’d found Beckett’s boots and pajamas.
He watched her, expecting the witch to point to the spot in question, but she turned to face the way they’d come. Hudson’s senses hadn’t informed him of any reason to show alarm, but he straightened his shoulders just the same. Scanning the dark thicket, his keen eyes darted between the silhouettes of the individual trees. There was no movement, no unusual sounds, and no ominous scents.
“Do you see something?” he asked, uncertain.
Hazel squinted into the darkness. “It’s cold.”
Clearly, Hudson thought but did not say. Not that he could feel the chill, of course. Shifter magic burned hot beneath his skin, ensuring the world was always toasty regardless of the conditions.
“We could go back for a spare coat if—”
“No, it’s not that kind of cold. It’s a darker cold.”
That made about as much sense as discovering Beckett had been listed on Craigslist.
“Something else was here,�
�� she said. “Recently.”
“I’m not scenting anything. Or anyone.”
“You wouldn’t,” she replied darkly. “Not every threat can be sniffed out of the bushes.”
“You didn’t seem to think this Woman in White was all that much of a threat back at Harris and Bon’s.”
Tightening her lips, Hazel pulled out her phone. “What year were you born?”
“Eighty-five. What are you doing?”
“I need to know her name.” As her thumbs flew over her phone’s touchscreen, Hazel wandered out past the tree line and paused near the riverbank. “It couldn’t cross the water. That’s why he got away.”
She turned right, heading toward the bridge. Hudson followed, keeping his eyes on the forest.
“Ghosts can’t swim?”
“Malicious entities can’t cross running water. It’s a source of purity. The river repelled it.”
Hazel pursed her lips and kept her eyes on her phone. Under the open, starry sky, her skin appeared especially pale. She tucked her hair behind her ears and stopped at the center of the road just before the bridge. Streaky tire marks covered the sludgy snow. She began to kick away the white, clearing the asphalt.
Not bothering to inquire the method behind her madness, Hudson helped her clean a decent-sized circle. Considering the lateness of the hour, he doubted anyone would come speeding down Tellico Reliance Road anytime soon.
“Got her,” she said suddenly, waving her phone. “Lorna Marley, aged thirty-one, died tragically losing control of her vehicle while attempting to cross Tellico Bridge. She was accompanied by her children, Benjamin, aged five, and newborn, Britney Rae. There were no survivors. The infant was not recovered. Officials blame the icy conditions of the roads.”
“How’d you find that?”
“This ain’t my first rodeo, handsome. The article’s dated December twenty-first, nineteen eighty-five.”
“Beckett went missing on the twenty-first.”
Hazel’s features darkened. “It was also the solstice.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Celestial events open certain doorways that are not easily accessed.”
“This is batshit. Can we admit that? You’re smart as a whip and hot as hell, but this is batshit and definitely not how I imagined meeting my mate.”
“Your continued discomfort with my nature is noted.” Plucking a bottle from her bag, she sprinkled a circle of something white around the area they’d cleared.
Salt, he realized.
“What’s that for?”
“Step inside. Don’t break the line, please.” She sat, crossing her legs, and Hudson followed her lead. She extended a hand between them. White-hot light erupted from her palm. A halo of blue surrounded the orb, pulsing in time with her heartbeat.
“This is about to get weirder, isn’t it?”
“Just stay quiet. And stay calm. Try not to give off any harsh vibes. You’ll scare her away.” Hazel set her phone atop her knee. Tapping the screen, she opened a radio app. The din of static wafted from the speaker.
Around them, a gentle breeze whispered across the Hiwassee. The dirty scent of river water clouded the air, mingling with the scent of the snow and oil stains on the asphalt.
Hazel’s eyes flared with that ghostly blue he’d first witnessed when Harrison had tried to pull her out of her car.
“Lorna Marley, I can feel you,” she said. “Come closer.”
Pursing his lips, Hudson remained completely still even as the wind picked up. Hazel’s tresses rustled with the rising current.
“You are wandering,” Hazel chided. “I can point you to where you need to go. But I need you to come closer.”
The wind grew stronger still. Snowflakes churned on the air, battling to reach the ground.
“Good,” Hazel said. “That’s good. Closer still. You can speak freely. You are among friends.”
Hudson wouldn’t go that far. Lorna Marley had lured his nephew to a possible death, after all.
White noise crackled from Hazel’s phone. The sound of static intensified. Beneath the tinny sound, Hudson could have sworn he heard a voice. It was as if someone had spoken a word that elongated well past the point of discernibility.
“I need you to say that again, please. He can’t understand you.” Hazel held up her phone, and Hudson realized she was using the radio app for his benefit. With her eyes fixed over his shoulder, she flashed an encouraging smile.
Hudson quickly looked behind himself, but he saw only the bridge and the long stretch of the Hiwassee.
“It’s here.” A female voice rose from the phone, half-distorted but understandable.
Fully grown grizzly or not, Hudson still felt goosebumps on the backs of his arms.
“What’s here? What is it, Lorna?” From Hazel’s lack of surprise, Hudson understood his mate had already sensed that Lorna wasn’t the only wanderer along the riverbank.
“The devil.”
Hazel frowned. “Why do you say that?”
“It took my baby. It reached into my car and took my baby.”
“This is important, Lorna: what did it look like?”
There was no immediate response.
“Lorna,” Hazel said, still gazing at the spot behind Hudson’s shoulder. “Look at me. Tell me.”
“Like a snake.”
“Did it have yellow eyes?”
Again, there was no response, but Hazel seem satisfied. Perhaps Lorna had offered the ghost-equivalent of a nod.
“Why did you call to Beckett? He said you sang to him.”
“I didn’t want him to come outside.” The connection crackled, distorting the woman’s voice. “I followed it through the woods. It coiled outside his window.”
Hudson’s grizzly snarled.
“And when you sang, you scared it away,” Hazel added. “Because they hate being seen.”
“It came back. It followed him. I tried to turn him around. He wouldn’t turn around.”
A long, heart-rending wail joined the sizzle of static.
“It’s okay,” Hazel said softly. “He’s home.”
“It’s coming for him. For the baby. It took my baby and it tried to take my Benji, but it wouldn’t follow us into the river. I couldn’t get us out of the river. I couldn’t unfasten my seatbelt.”
Again, a long wail cluttered the connection. Hazel’s features softened.
“Listen,” she said with a startling amount of compassion, “it wasn’t your fault. You stay here because you blame yourself, but it wasn’t your fault. Your children are waiting for you. They aren’t here anymore. I can’t sense them, and I know you can’t either. You can go to them, Lorna. I can open the door, but you have to go through.”
“I can’t. I can’t,” sobbed the woman. “If they’re not there—”
“They are. And they’re waiting for you. Go to Benji. Go to Britney Rae. They need you.”
For a long moment, there was nothing but wind and white noise.
“Go,” Hazel urged, her voice strong with conviction.
Behind him, Hudson felt a static charge. The air swelled, becoming heavy. The scent of o-zone tickled his nostrils. And then it was as if lightning struck the ground directly behind him.
Leaping to his feet, he whirled and growled, still feeling the frissons of raw electricity on the nape of his neck.
Hazel stood, grabbed her bag, and seized his shoulder. “I need you to go back. Go the road way, it’ll be quicker.”
“What the hell was she talking about? The devil with a snake’s tail.”
“It’s a lamia.” Urgency lifted Hazel’s pitch. “They steal and devour children. They have a particular affinity for newborns. They’re big. They’re fast. They can be killed by a beheading or iron to the heart. Their claws are poisonous, and their scream is deafening enough to throw you off your guard. Get back to the children.”
Hudson was already walking backwards, preparing to race up the icy slope of
Tellico Reliance Road. He felt his back pockets and cursed, knowing he’d left his phone on Bonnie’s kitchen table.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’ll go the way we came. One of us is bound to cross paths with it.” Hazel pointed toward the break in the tree line. “It was right over there. It’s hunting. It will return for your nephew. Go. Warn your sleuth. You’re faster than me.”
Caught between the instinct to ensure his mate’s safety and the bone-deep need to protect his sleuth, Hudson growled. “I’ll double-back after and meet you in the woods.”
“Go!”
Gritting his molars, Hudson turned and broke into a run.
Chapter 6
One Big Gulp
The air didn’t feel right.
Hudson grabbed the rail leading up to Harrison’s front porch. Someone had flicked on the Christmas lights for the first time since Beckett’s disappearance. The multicolored glow warmed the outside of the house, making the night seem almost cheerful.
Throwing open the front door, Hudson spied his mother and father by the Christmas tree in front of the bay window. Bonnie appeared in the kitchen doorway.
“Did you let her leave? Hudson, honestly!”
“Where’s Beck?” His heart was thundering so loud from the speed of his run, he couldn’t immediately pinpoint the sound of his nephew’s heartbeat. “And Hannah?”
“They’re upstairs. What’s wrong with you?”
“It’s not a ghost.” Hudson raced through the living room and climbed the stairs, taking three at a time. The heavy tread of his boots resounded through the house.
He pushed into Hannah’s room first, knowing Bonnie was right behind him. The baby slept in her crib, though her tiny socked feet kicked out. She turned, gurgling slightly. Behind them, Violet and Hollis headed into Beckett’s room. Hannah’s sleeping form calmed him so wholly, he finally focused his ears enough to register the sound of Beckett’s mouth-breathing.
For a kid so little, Beckett already snored like the massive bear he’d grow into someday.
Scanning the room, Hudson noted an iron bar rested in the cradles that had once held the curtain rod. The wispy yellow curtains had been attached to the iron instead.