The Winter People

by Rebekah L. Purdy

  Strong hands gripped my shoulders, tugged me free, and pulled me to my feet.

  Though my vision blurred, I recognized that face. Nevin. He’d come for me.

  “Shhh…it’s okay, I’m here.” His powerful hands became soft like velvet when he caressed my face and hair. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Sobs wracked me, relief making my legs weak. “My dad,” I said.

  “I know. I’ll deal with it. Come on, let’s get you to your Grandma’s now.” The vines shriveled back beneath the gate. The trees straightened like nothing had happened.

  “Nevin.”

  “Just run.”

  We scrambled down the path, until we reached Grandma’s house. “Go on inside,” he said again. “I’ll check on you soon.”

  With a nod, I rushed inside. After long minutes I watched out the window as a strange light encompassed the woods. I didn’t dare go outside to see what had caused it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  With all the pacing I did, I half expected to find a chunk of my grandparents’ carpet missing. It had only been fifteen minutes since Nevin had left me, but if felt like a billion years. The loud tick-tock of the rooster-shaped clock made it all the more apparent that he wasn’t there yet.

  I didn’t want to believe in magic or wicked fairytales, but even I couldn’t ignore the insane crap that had happened lately. Now that I knew Gareth believed me, and Nevin heard things, too, it was becoming more obvious that maybe it wasn’t just me. That there was this whole other world that people didn’t know about.

  I wrung my hands together, staring at the door. Please be okay, I thought.

  Just then, a knock sounded. I glanced up to see Nevin standing there, pale fingers pressed against the glass.

  With a deep sigh of relief, I answered the door.

  “Are you all right?” My eyes studied every inch of him for wounds.

  “I’m fine. Listen, you need to stay the night here. Your father will be gone in the morning.”

  My teeth scraped over my dried lips, my lashes still wet. “I don’t know what got into him tonight. He acted like a man possessed.”

  Nevin stared beyond me, rocking back and forth on his heels. “He very well could’ve been.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Salome, try and get some sleep. This will look much better in the morning.” He flashed me a faint smile.

  I didn’t want to be alone, not after what my dad had done and what I saw in the woods. Just when I thought I might be able to get my fear of winter in check, tonight happened.

  “Will you stay with me?” I stepped onto the deck so we stood toe to toe.

  “If only I could.” Regret filled his eyes. Instead, his arms enfolded me, his breath tickled my cheek and ear. “I want to protect you, but I can’t do that if you’re out here. And I can’t come in.”

  I nestled closer, his body hard with muscles, yet his touch gentle.

  “Are you a vampire or something? I mean you won’t come into my house. Are you scared you might lose control and take a bite out of me?”

  His chest rumbled against my hands as he laughed. He drew back his lips in a perfect smile. “See, no fangs. When I say I can’t come in, I mean I can’t come in. Vampirism would be a blessing compared to what I’ve got going on.” He sounded bitter. “You have to trust me on this. You’re one of my best friends, Salome. And those are hard to come by.”

  “Okay.” I clung tight to him.

  “Now go inside.” He released me and leaped down the stairs of the deck. “And whatever you do, keep the doors locked.”

  Like he had to tell me twice. As soon as the door shut, I clicked the bolts in place then circled the room making sure the shades were drawn and windows locked. No way in hell was I taking any chances.

  Now it was time to do what I should’ve done days ago. The closet door groaned when I tugged it open, revealing layers of old sweaters, suit coats, and dresses hanging like racks of meat in a warehouse. Hangers clanged together, tinkling like tinny bells when I shoved clothing out of the way.

  Everything smelled like floral fabric softener and Grandpa’s leather boots. I rubbed the sleeve of one of his sweaters against my cheek, inhaling deeply. I dropped the sweater then knelt, clearing the shoes from in front of the trunk.

  “Geez.” I eyed the ancient mahogany trunk. “What’d they do, bring it over on the Mayflower?”

  With shaking hands, I lifted the lid and wrinkled my nose at the scent of mothballs and old wood. Several quilts and dresses were folded neatly inside. I took them out so I could get to the false bottom. It took me a few tries before finding the hidden latch, which lifted the thin shelf away. And there, taped to the bottom of the trunk, was the key.

  My stomach churned. In a way, I felt like I was doing something forbidden even though Grandma gave her permission.

  “Time to solve this mystery,” I said, feeling like I’d just stepped onto the set of a Scooby-Doo cartoon. Jinkies, Fred, do you think the monster in the woods is real?

  I wedged the key into the lock of the office door and twisted it. The odor of ancient books, spices, and scented candles overwhelmed me as I flicked on a light switch.

  A cobweb brushed my cheek. I swatted at it hoping no creepy-crawlies were attached.

  The décor of the room left a lot to be desired. Ancient books lined the shelves with titles such as Reading the Stones: A Book on Runes; Herbs: The Art of Healing; Complete Book of Faeries; Witches, Warlocks, and other Magical Creatures. There were books on arcane magic, wards, and rocks. Small jars and pouches of herbs, stones, and seeds, cluttered several shelves and tables. There I stood for long seconds, half expecting to see jars labeled eye of newt or puppy dog tails.

  An antique cherry rollaway desk sat against the back wall, an wrought iron sconce on either side. The candles in them were nothing but small, blackened nubs. Seriously, it was like stepping into a museum of the supernatural and weird.

  I had no idea where to start, but the desk looked promising, so I sat down in the high-backed cherry chair.

  Giving the desktop a tug, it rolled into itself, revealing shelves with more books, maps, pens, and notes. One of the old maps caught my eye and I studied it.

  It showed the location and lay of our property, both my parents and my grandparents. An outline of the fence was marked on the map. The land within its confines was labeled “safe-zone” with a side note about possible areas of breeching.

  There were several other maps of outlying areas and some of town and the school property. Someone had jotted down almost illegible markings. Circles labeled “travel rings” and a few more safe-zones, one of which looked a lot like Perky Joe’s. The woods outside our gates had the word “danger” in bright red.

  “Shit, tell me something I don’t know.” I set the maps back down.

  I bent down and picked up a large, leather-bound ledger. Inside were the names of the women who had died, their dates of birth, death, and how they perished, as well as who survived them.

  Dead in the woods.

  Strangled near the wood line.

  Horse and buggy accident.

  Drowned.

  I gasped. The being in the woods had gotten to them all. The creature was a pro and rehashed some of her creative methods of killing. Cleo had been strangled near the wood line, I’d almost died in a crash and a drowning, and there was definitely something in the woods that had tried coming after me last night.

  This room wasn’t helping me solve any mysteries. If anything, it made me more terrified. I slammed the ledger shut and set it on the floor, away from view.

  I rested my head against the desk until my breathing returned to normal. Then I opened one of the drawers and rummaged through it. More books, scraps, and notes. As I shoved to the bottom, my fingers brushed a stack of letters tied with a faded red ribbon.

  The paper looked yellowed, brittle with age, and the looped writing had faded. Yet someone had taken great care to preserve them.
Untying the bundle, I saw some were addressed simply to N, while the rest had been to an Aidrianna.

  “Your first clue, Scooby-Doo.” And so I opened the first letter.

  June 14, 1789

  My Dearest N,

  I enjoyed your company last night and hope you will be in the woods again this evening. I do not appreciate being neglected for HER. You should be more mindful of me because I could have anyone. I do not like that you are meeting with that peasant, Kassandra, too. She is beneath us, remember that. If you continue to see her, it will encourage the servants to talk and that will make me look foolish.

  Aidrianna

  Dear Aidrianna,

  Are you jealous? You speak as if you fear I will desire her more. Remember it is you who should feel grateful for my attentions—my kind does not often seek favor from mere mortal women. You are a delicious morsel, but you can be replaced. If it makes you feel better, love, Kassandra is merely a tool in my game.

  Yours for tonight,

  Nevin

  Nevin? No way, that couldn’t be possible. The letters were too old. Maybe it was one of his ancestors; he’d said his family had been around forever. I picked up more letters.

  N,

  You make a fool of me and yet I cannot stay away. Do you not worry about Kassandra finding us out? I fear the peasant could pose as a problem, one I am not certain is worth either of our risk. One word from her will make my father suspicious. Not to mention the danger she might cause you. Still, I will meet you in the woods near your estate. Another night with you may corrupt me forever.

  Always,

  Aidrianna

  Aidrianna,

  You worry far too much. Kassandra’s abilities are not strong enough to overtake my kind. You shall have no more worries, for after today I will not see her anymore. I have gleaned what information I needed from her. She is of no threat to either of us. With my charm alone I will make her believe my rejection is her fault. Tonight you will find us in the woods dancing in merriment over our victory. If you are particularly good, I will give you that which you desire most.

  Nevin

  The letters left a bitter taste in my mouth, like I’d chewed on a rusty nail. I didn’t like this Aidrianna—and Nevin sounded so cruel. I refused to believe it could be the same person. I dropped the letters to the desk. This Nevin was horrible and a womanizer. Someone who reeked of arrogance.

  Like my Nevin.

  I didn’t want to read anymore because deep down, I had a feeling I knew the author personally. And if these letters were his, that made him over two hundred and fifty years old. This wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. My head throbbed and my stomach grew queasier the more I thought about it.

  Before sliding from the chair, I put things back as they were before my visit, taking the letters with me. I locked the door and crawled into the large four-poster bed. And there I lay, staring at the ceiling. God, how did I know he wasn’t using me, or leading me on?

  And what had happened to Kassandra?

  A creature in the woods wanted me dead and I wasn’t sure if I could trust the one person who I’d come to consider one of my closest friends. And why the hell did Colton act so strange, and Gareth always show up out of nowhere when I needed to be rescued?

  For an added bonus, I now had to deal with the letters, a curse, and my grandma who wouldn’t tell me a damn thing.

  “Can one thing go right?” I pounded my fist into my pillow.

  The next morning I went onto the deck with the letters, knowing Nevin would be along soon. Bitterness seeped through my bloodstream, burning at my skin and throat.

  And like clockwork he sauntered up the path, that familiar arrogant smile pasted on his face.

  In an even voice I asked, “Who’s Kassandra?”

  His jaw tightened. “Don’t ever say that name in my presence.” Venom laced every word, making me shiver.

  “Who was she?”

  “A peasant.”

  I didn’t want him to be the man in the letters. A sourness settled in my gut, making me want to throw up.

  “And Aidrianna?” I held my breath. Let me be wrong.

  Nevin stared through me as if I’d thrown a bucket of frigid water over his head. “A woman I once knew.”

  Oh God. How was this possible? That meant he was over two hundred and fifty years old. Stuff like this didn’t happen in real life. Only in books and fairytales. I bent my head, my body trembled, but not from the cold. Anger and confusion swirled through me.

  “T—that means you’re a couple centuries old—and you were with that woman in the letters? This is crazy. Please tell me this is a joke?”

  Nevin glowered, pacing the deck. “She and I were lovers.”

  My heart seemed to detach itself from the rest of my body, breaking into a million pieces. “Then why did you lead Kassandra on? Why?” My voice broke.

  He gripped my shoulders. “I said, don’t speak her name.”

  “How could you be so heartless?” This was not the Nevin I’d come to know. The friend who’d helped me stay sane this winter.

  “You know nothing of what went on.”

  “I know more than you think. You and Aidrianna played some fucked up game with Kassandra. You broke her heart.” I jerked the letters out of my pocket and tossed them at him.

  “She was a peasant,” he spat, like that explained everything.

  “No, she was a person, you asshole. I—I thought you were different. But it was all an act, wasn’t it? Our friendship, your concern? Tell me, was any of it real?”

  “Let it go, Salome.” His face darkened, and his eyes took on a menacing glow.

  “No, I won’t. Just because you’re good looking doesn’t mean you can act so superior.”

  “But I am superior, whether I want to be or not.”

  If I had a knife I could’ve cut the arrogance-frosted air between us.

  “Can you be any more of a prick? Don’t you understand what you did to her? I mean she had to have figured it out.”

  Nevin’s gaze flickered away. “I told her that her inferiority kept me from being with her—then I made sure she caught Aidrianna and I together in the woods,” he said as if it was no big deal.

  How could I have been such an idiot? My eyes burned like acid had been tossed into them.

  “You’re heartless and cocky.”

  “And yet these qualities didn’t deter you.”

  “And I’m just one of many fools who has fallen for your act.” I backed away. “Bravo, Nevin, great show. You win.”

  God, I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want to feel the pain. This was why I always stayed inside my safe little bubble. Why I didn’t let people in. They always let me down. And hurt me. First the people at school. Then my dad. And Kadie when she went to my mom. Colton. Now, Nevin.

  “Salome—”

  “Have you ever cared about anyone or anything besides yourself?”

  Everything was silent. The trees on the other side of the gate bent as if listening to our conversation.

  Nevin glanced at the fence then back to me. He closed his eyes as if trying to compose himself. “No, I don’t have time or patience to care.”

  A piece of me died. Numbness took over my body. Nevin had become a better part of my world over the past month, the one constant I had. But it had been a lie. “You don’t deserve happiness. You use people like they’re dispensable.”

  “Please.” Nevin tried to catch my arm.

  “Leave me the hell alone.” Tears brimmed my eyes. “I can’t believe I thought you might actually care about me. That I cared about you.”

  I spun around in a wave of fury and dashed back into the house, slamming the door shut behind me. Through the glass, I saw a look of anguish wash over his face.

  Oh God, maybe I was wrong. But the letters flashed in my mind. He was over two hundred and fifty years old. He’d admitted as much. So either he was crazy or he was telling the truth. And if it was the truth, how many of those years had he
spent cursed? How was it even possible to begin with? Nothing in my world made sense. The voices. The strange beings. The near deaths. Nevin, a stranger in my woods who I should’ve left well enough alone. Grandma had warned me of as much. The Nevin who wrote those letters was someone I didn’t want to know. Not now. Not ever.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  When I got back home my dad was gone, just like Nevin said he’d be.

  “I’m sorry your dad did that to you last night,” Mom said, in a low voice. “I—I don’t know what came over him. It was like he was someone else.” Her eyes welled. “But we don’t have to worry about him anymore. He left and I won’t ever let him step foot back in this house again.”

  “When did he leave?”

  “Not long after he tossed you out. It was strange. One second he was shouting like a mad man, and the next he just stopped. His eyes glazed over, he grabbed his coat and keys, then drove off.”

  “So what’s all this?” I gestured to the boxes in the living room all addressed to a Grisselle Morris.

  “Your father’s things.” Mom’s tone could’ve curdled milk.

  I fought to keep from crying. Unreal, my whole life, unraveling before my eyes.

  “W—who’s Grisselle?”

  She frowned, tossing a pile of his hunting pictures into a box. She taped it up. I glanced around, seeing all of his pictures were missing, as were his magazines, and his blankets. There were no traces left of him.

  “Grisselle is your father’s new love interest.” Her words were laced with ice.

  “His what?”

  “Don’t worry. Monday morning, Nancy’s taking me to the courthouse to file divorce papers. Grisselle can have that sorry piece of shit.”

  She hobbled across the floor in her cast, her crutches nowhere to be seen.

  “I need an aspirin.” She headed into the kitchen.

  Me too.

  I followed after her. She stopped at the cupboard and tugged out the medicine bottle.

  “Mom, are you going to be okay?”

  She eyed the bottle, then me, then the bottle again. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I think I might go out with Nancy and the girls tonight.” She glanced at me, then frowned. “On second thought, maybe I should stay in with you. Rent some movies.”