Hollowed: Return to Sleepy Hollow, the Complete Duology

by Candace Wondrak

  One thing at a time. I should focus on making Bones believe instead of getting ahead of myself.

  I was about to say something along the lines of you don’t get to make my decisions for me, but it was at that exact time a car pulled into the base of the driveway, its tires slowly rolling on the pavement as it came closer. I got to my feet, causing Crane’s hand to fall off me as I headed for the car, which turned to park right in front of the house, the passenger side closest to me.

  Bones sat in the driver’s seat, his mouth a line as he gestured for me to get in.

  Shit. This was going to be harder than I thought.

  Instead of getting into the car, I headed around it, stopping only when I was able to lean down to the window beside him after sliding my phone into my pocket. Bones didn’t look particularly happy, and I couldn’t blame him. Things had been weird between us, ever since that night. It wasn’t right. Being in Sleepy Hollow, I needed my friend back.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, azure stare glancing at Crane near the house. Crane had stood the moment I did, though he did not step closer to the car.

  “Bones,” I said, gripping the car, “there’s a lot we need to talk about. Please, come inside the house.”

  His muscular shoulders rose and fell once with a curt laugh. “I’m not stepping a foot inside that house,” he muttered, his disdain for Crane evident.

  I hated to do this, really I did, because it was such a bad use of the so-called feminine wiles, but I didn’t see any other choice. I leaned down until my head was practically in the car, met his gaze, held it and whispered, “Please, Brom.” I might’ve puckered my lips a bit and batted my eyelashes a few extra times.

  I never used his name. Never. I thought it was weird to hear Crane say it. Speaking it just didn’t feel right, but it did its job.

  Bones stared at me for a while, a muscle in his square jaw tensing. A war raged behind his gaze, and I knew I was winning this. It was but a moment before he relented, sighing sharply as he reached for the keys in the ignition, turning the engine off as he said, “Fine. But only for five minutes.”

  “Thank you,” I said, stepping away from the car and straightening my back as he got out. Together we walked to Crane, and I felt Bones stiffen beside me. He really didn’t like Crane, did he?

  No, I took that back. They didn’t like each other. The animosity went both ways, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was this town, making us feel these things. Me and my weakness towards both Crane and Bones, why they were so drawn to me, and their hatred for one another. If so, Sleepy Hollow really didn’t want us to be one big happy family.

  The three of us went inside the house. Crane led us to the living room, but none of us sat down. Bones looked like he wanted to sprint out of the mansion as fast as he could. Crane’s emerald eyes landed on me as he asked, “Would either of you like some—”

  “No tea,” I whispered, noting the way Bones frowned at Crane.

  Crane and Bones couldn’t stand to be in the same room as each other. How was I supposed to let them waltz into the otherworld together? I doubted they’d be holding hands and singing kumbaya while they were there. No, I had to go with Bones. I was the one Bones trusted here, not Crane. They’d merely be at each other’s throats the whole time, too buried in their hatred to notice any creeping spirits.

  It was settled.

  At least, in my head it was settled.

  “What’s this about?” Bones asked me, acting like Crane wasn’t in the room.

  Crane didn’t appreciate that one bit, for he started, “Perhaps I would be better suited to explain—”

  Still staring at me, Bones said, “I didn’t ask you, I asked Kat.”

  Hmm. Maybe being caught in the middle of them wouldn’t be so fun after all.

  “We have something to show you,” I said. I hoped I didn’t sound too particularly desperate, but these were bordering on desperate times. “Bones, I need you to trust me.” Lightly touching his arm, feeling his warm muscles beneath my fingers, I whispered, “You do trust me, don’t you?”

  Bones wanted to ask what the hell I was talking about, I could tell by the way his lips thinned and his eyes narrowed on me, but he didn’t. All he did was eventually say, “Yes.”

  “You’re off for the night, right? This…it’s going to take a bit longer than five minutes,” I told him, my hand still on his arm. I didn’t want to stop touching him. If anything, I wanted to touch him more.

  I was suddenly reminded of that night in the cemetery, how hot and heavy we were getting. Me, pushed up against a tree. Bones, pressing his hard, wide body against me, his hands touching me in places I never dreamt of. Our hungry, desperate kisses…

  Probably not the best thing to think of while both Bones and Crane watched me. I stopped that train of thought, but it was a little late. The area between my legs was already warm in anticipation. Damn it.

  At least Bones was unaware of how turned on I was. It wasn’t like I gave off a fuck me now scent, which was good. He studied me, asking, “What’s going on?” Three simple words, and yet the answer to his question would not be as easy.

  “There’s something I want to show you,” I said. “Proof.” I finally tugged my hand off Bones’s arm, giving Crane a nod. He went to fetch the concoction he’d been working on earlier.

  When Crane was out of the room, Bones shook his head softly. “Proof?” he asked, sounding…sad? “If this is about what happened that night at the cemetery, I’m sorry. I overreacted. But, Kat, something is clearly wrong here. You were the last one seen going into Mike Reese’s office. Unless you have proof that someone else was hiding in there, I don’t see how—”

  “Yes,” I said, stopping him from saying anything else. Not exactly proof that someone else was hiding, but proof that someone else was there. Mike and I weren’t alone. Telling him the whole possession thing would come later; the first step was getting him to believe I wasn’t crazy, and neither was Crane.

  Or, by extension, my dad. My dad wasn’t crazy. Everything he raved about was true, and I never took his word for it. I’d hated his obsession with Sleepy Hollow and its myths because my mom blamed it as the reason for their divorce. I never once stopped to wonder what it would mean if everything my dad said was true, and now it was too late. He was gone.

  He was gone, and I was spending the time I should’ve been arranging his funeral and selling his house to play with spirits.

  “Yes?” Bones echoed as Crane slipped back into the room. “You have proof you weren’t alone with him? Why didn’t you say something at the station? Kat, you’re the only lead right now, the only suspect.” I didn’t doubt if we were alone, he would’ve grabbed my hand and marched me back to the station.

  Joke would’ve been on him, though. I had the feeling the not alone thing wouldn’t be what he was imagining.

  “That,” Crane spoke, offering him a cup, “is where this comes in, I’m afraid.” It was just a regular mug, nothing fancy. It wasn’t like it screamed magic or anything. Just a normal, everyday, ceramic mug, and still it took Bones a minute to accept it.

  Bones peered into it, his blonde brows coming together. “What is this?” His nose wrinkled, and he held in a gag.

  Meanwhile I wanted to hold my nose. I refrained from it, but I did turn to Crane and ask, “Why does it smell so awful?” It was like someone had dug up a partially decomposed body and threw rotten eggs on it. Like if a sweaty armpit and a smelly fart had a baby, it would be this smell.

  “Yes, I don’t recall it stinking this badly, so I might’ve messed up the proportions a bit, but—” Crane’s bumbling explanation was cut off when I grabbed the other cup from him. He was too caught off-guard to stop me.

  “We have to drink this,” I told Bones.

  “No way in hell” was Bones’s answer, which I was expecting, especially with the smell. Drinking it was the last thing I wanted to do too, but we didn’t have any other choice.

  “Kat,” Crane warned
, trying to grab it from me, but I kept sidestepping him. He might’ve been tall and lanky, but his reflexes were not as good as mine. I was able to dodge him easily, all the while keeping my gaze locked on Bones. “I have no idea if it’ll affect you differently—”

  There was only one way to find out.

  “Please, Brom.” Yes, I used his name again. Yes, I used it while coughing and wanting to vomit. “Trust me.”

  And then I downed the whole cup, gagging only once. Luckily it didn’t taste as bad as it smelled. It was a thick, viscous liquid, a pale ivory color. A bit salty, too. It actually wasn’t too bad, though the salted taste was a bit strong—

  A world of black, of nothingness swallowed me up.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I woke up on the living room carpet, jerking to a sitting position as I glanced all around. Everything was as it was before, only the colors of objects were a bit off, a milky white haze over everything. A shroud over my eyes, alerting me to the fact that I was in the otherworld, that Crane’s magical concoction had worked.

  Only I was alone, no Bones in sight.

  I swore to God I would strangle Bones if I wake up in the real world and find that he never even touched his own cup. I will wrap my hands around his neck, resist my urge to plant a few kisses on him, and strangle him. Hardcore strangle him. Because what the ever-loving fuck.

  Getting to my feet, I glanced all around. The large house was even eerier when it was coated in an off-white color. I stumbled to the couch, planting myself on the nearest cushion. If Bones didn’t come here, what would happen? I had a terrifying thought. What if he had a fit and took me to the hospital? What would happen to me if my body was moved while my consciousness was trapped here?

  Shit. I wasn’t sure, but I had the feeling it wasn’t good.

  I was seconds from reclining on the couch when I heard a manly grunt. Bones was on the floor before me, propping himself up on his elbows, having woken much less gracefully than me. His blonde head flicked all around, and his words said it all: “What the fuck?”

  What the fuck indeed.

  His blue gaze locked on me, and I crawled off the couch, moving to kneel before him. He looked aghast, a bit pale, but still just as sexy as he was in the real world. “Are you okay?” Wasn’t sure why I asked. My first time here, I most definitely wasn’t okay.

  Then again, my first time here, I practically came face-to-chest with the Headless Horseman, so as first times go, his was coming along way better.

  Bones said nothing as he got to his feet. I stood before him, watching as he took in his surroundings. “Where’s Crane?” he asked.

  “Crane’s not here.”

  “What do you mean, Crane’s not here? He was just here a moment ago.” Recent memories flashed across his eyes, and Bones pointed at me. “You drank that stuff, then you collapsed. I was going to take you to the hospital, but Crane caught me by surprise and forced some of it down my throat. Next thing I know, I’m here.” He ran both hands through his hair. “What the fuck?”

  I waited a moment before saying, “If you’ve adjusted, there’s more.” If he didn’t drink it all, he probably wouldn’t be here for long. I had to show him everything I could before he faded away.

  Bones gave me a look like I was the crazy one here. “What are you talking about?”

  Lifting a hand toward him, I waited. Seconds ticked by, and his eyes fell to my extended arm. I had no idea whether or not he’d take it, but I’d drag him out of this house if I had to. Crane’s home was warded against spirits, but the land wasn’t. The Headless Horseman had to be somewhere nearby, and there wasn’t any evidence that could beat a walking, menacing, headless guy.

  With a slight frown, Bones took my hand, his warm, strong fingers curling around my palm. I led him out of the living room, into the hallway, and towards the front door. All the while he studied everything around us.

  “Drugs,” Bones muttered. “You made me high or something. Crane forced some kind of drug down my throat—”

  I stopped with my other hand on the doorknob. “If this is all because of some drug, why would we have the same hallucination?”

  He thought about it. “Okay, fine. You got me there, but still—this is too weird. This is—”

  I shut him up by yanking the door open and pulling us both outside, onto the stone steps that led to the driveway. The sky above us wasn’t blue; it was nothing but a thick, hazy white, like the world had been coated in a giant spiderweb. Everything’s color was off. Some things were duller, but the grass was a vibrant green, almost blinding.

  But Bones didn’t notice any of it. He froze the instant he spotted the tall, headless figure looming straight down the driveway. The Headless Horseman sat on his horse, his demonic steed with glowing red eyes and steam coming out of its nose. His gloved fingers gripped the reins, and though he was far from us, I could see his impressive body tensing in preparation.

  “Do you see that?” Bones asked, his voice trembling just a bit.

  “I see him,” I said. “It’s not the first time I’ve seen him.”

  “That’s the Headless Horseman,” Bones muttered, turning his head toward me, but his eyes remained on the far-off figure. “Should we run?” He must’ve seen the headless man lean forward a bit and run a hand down his horse’s neck, the way his hands gripped the reins with a new intensity.

  He was going to charge us. Or at Bones.

  Now was the time to put it to the test. It was quite literally now or never, and it could very well be the worst mistake of my life. Maybe even the last mistake. If my body became a vegetable…

  No, best not to think of it like that. I would win this. I was right. The Headless Horseman would listen to me. At least I really, really hoped so.

  “No,” I stated, watching as the Headless Horseman grabbed the reins with a fiery passion, kicked his heels against the side of his steed, and took off, heading straight for us down the hazy driveway.

  “Shit,” Bones swore. He tried to grab my hand, to run back into the house, but I yanked my hand back, remaining rooted firmly in place. “Kat, he’s coming—”

  No shit, Sherlock, I wanted to say, but I found I could not say anything. I could only watch, fear rising in my gut, as the Headless Horseman and his horse galloped closer at full speed. The sound of hooves hitting pavement sent chills down my spine.

  “Kat, this isn’t a joke,” Bones hissed, setting a hand on my shoulder, his fingers too firm around me to fight. He wasn’t in uniform; he didn’t have his gun. I doubted a gun would’ve worked in the otherworld, anyway. It was just us and the Horseman, and his horse—but who gave a shit about the horse when its rider was so damn impressive?

  “No, but I have to know,” I said, doing my best to fight him. I would not be dragged back into that house, not until I knew for a fact that the Horseman would listen to me. If he did…maybe we could use him against the spirits trying to break through the veil. Maybe there was another way to get rid of the spirits that broke through instead of killing the possessed host.

  A woman could hope, right?

  “Have to know what?” Bones was frantic, and I didn’t blame him.

  I wanted to turn and dart inside the house. Watching the Headless Horseman ride closer was not something I enjoyed doing. The closer he became, the more I grew anxious. What if I was wrong? What if the Headless Horseman didn’t listen to me after all? I put both my life and Bones’s life in danger by trying this out.

  It was too late now.

  The Headless Horseman yanked on the reins, causing the horse to skid to a stop and rear. It stood on its hind legs for a few terrifying moments, the beast’s bulbous black and red eyes on me as it kicked out its front legs and let out an ear-splitting whinny. Smoke seeped from its nostrils, but I stood my ground.

  Bones, meanwhile, tried to play the hero and leaped in front of me, putting himself between us. Sweet, heroic, but totally misguided and misplaced.

  The horse fell onto all fours, and the
Headless Horseman slid off his steed, less than ten feet before us. Bones and I stood on the steps to the house, but Bones was two steps down. To get in front of him, I’d have to stand on the concrete, on the same level as the Horseman himself.

  There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that the Horseman would cut Bones down, so regardless of what happened next, I knew I had to be the one to face him, to tell him to slow his roll, to stop.

  I had to tell the Headless Horseman to stop.

  Everything that happened next happened in the span of five seconds, ten at the most.

  I darted around Bones and situated myself between them, my feet flat on the concrete. The Headless Horseman moved closer, his hands curling, leather gloves clenching. His two-sided ax appeared in his right hand, and before he could raise it, before he could do anything more, I extended a hand, laying it flat against his chest—or his upper stomach, technically, since he was fucking taller than a tree.

  The wind picked up, almost like a maelstrom of energy seeped from the Horseman, like he didn’t want to be touched. He hadn’t given me his permission, but I didn’t care. I wouldn’t let him hurt Bones, and if he was going to kill me, I’d go down swinging.

  “No,” I ordered, confident and firm in every way. I sounded like a queen, royalty who was used to commanding other people. Not to toot my own horn, but I sounded like a badass.

  For a moment, it was just us. Me and the Horseman, two beings battling wills. Two beings fighting for control of this situation. No other spirits nearby, no other people. I even temporarily forgot Bones was behind me.

  Neither of us moved for the longest while. I didn’t know where to look. When one didn’t have a head, where the fuck did you look? Definitely rude to gaze steadily anywhere below his waistline, but it just felt weird staring at his chest, at the black, ancient uniform clinging to his body.

  My chest felt funny, almost like I could feel him staring at me—which was ten different kinds of stupid, considering he didn’t have a head. “No,” I said again, this time less confident, more unsure. I was unsure mostly because I couldn’t get over how solid he felt beneath my hand. More muscular than Bones, definitely. Like a mountain shaped into a man.