by Ivy Simone
So if someone else sent the note, why? Why do they want me here?
I’m charmed by the stone entryway to a small building with stained glass windows. It’s like it’s from a different era. I don’t see a sign right away until I step closer to the door, which is propped open with a wagon full of paperbacks.
It’s a library. Exactly where I want to be.
Inside, books line shelves all the way to the ceiling. They stretch across counters and lay on round tables by chairs. I fall in love a little before I notice the librarian watching me.
“Morning,” she says, drawing her glasses off her nose. Her long blonde hair waves away from her face, highlighted like she’s spent a lot of time in the sun. “Something I can help you with?”
I trace a finger along a shelf, thinking. “Local folklore. Legends, myths, anything supernatural.”
She lifts her eyebrows.
“I’m researching,” I tell her. “I freelance for a magazine‒anything paranormal, out of the ordinary. I hear there’s a lot of unusual history in Shadow Hill.”
She smiles and waves her hand vaguely. “Like most towns.”
I feel like she’s trying to blow me off. She looks at her cell phone like I interrupted something.
“Can you point me in the right direction?” I ask. Or do I need to find it myself?
She smiles again, warmer this time, and points. “Local history is around the corner in the back room.”
I barely take the time to thank her. She’s probably already on her phone again, texting some local about how the out-of-towner thinks there’s real supernatural history here.
I know there is. At least where my mom is concerned. But I have no idea what the rest of the town knows about her.
The room is filled to the brim with books just like the rest of the library. I glance to my right and see stairs. There’s a sign that says Children and Young Adult Downstairs.
Not bad for a small town library.
The first shelf gets me nowhere. But I find some legend on the local mines and remember Logan telling me about the ghost tours. Could be something. I move on, roll my eyes when I see something about a Loch Ness monster, and pause when I find a book on the Shadow Hill Hotel. The back cover tells the history, when it was founded, and the tragic death of two of the owners.
It also says it’s haunted.
Looks like the motel I picked was the wrong place to stay the night.
I tuck the book under my arm, but freeze when I hear voices in the front of the library. One is the librarian and the other is low and male.
I’m about to sneak closer to eavesdrop when Ryan appears in the doorway. He props his shoulder on the jamb. “Still here, huh?”
“Still a dick, huh?”
He smiles. The stubble is thicker today, tracing his jaw and his upper lip. In the light, I can see his eyes are gray like the sky before a storm and his hair isn’t nearly as dark as I thought.
He walks closer to me. When I hold my ground, he props his hand on the shelf next to my head and looks at the books in my arms.
“The Shadow Hill Hotel,” he reads, voice so deep it vibrates in my chest. “Ghosts of the Shadow Hill Mines.” He lifts his head, gaze connecting with mine. “Going gold mining?”
I point my finger at his chest. “You know what I’m doing here.”
He captures my hand in his. “Sure. Mother hunting, passing out in the bar and taking in the local history.”
I try to wiggle my hand from his grasp, but he tightens his grip. “Let go.”
“I told you to go home.”
“Last time I checked, this was a free country.”
A flicker of anger lights his eyes. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”
“Looks like a threat to me,” I say, keeping my voice even.
His gaze drops to my lips and lingers before he leans in close. So close his breath tickles my ear. “Shadow Hill doesn’t have the answers you’re looking for. If you say you’ll leave, I won’t bother you anymore.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Life is going to start getting very difficult.”
I grit my teeth. “Let go of me.”
He eases back, but his gaze stays locked with mine. “Say you’ll leave.”
“Go to hell.”
“I’m not going to ask again,” Ryan says.
The fire builds inside of me, shooting straight to my fingertips. In an instant, the books wedged between us go up in flames. I gasp and drop them on the ground. The fire grows and Ryan stamps on the books with his boots.
I shove around him and run for the door.
“Hey!” the librarian shouts after me.
I don’t stop, don’t slow down. I race through the open door and glance back as I hit the last stair.
Two more steps and I slam into someone’s chest.
Chapter 3
The momentum is enough to make me stumble and I hit the cement hard with my palms, scraping them against the rough surface.
“Willow?”
A hand closes around my elbow, pulling me up. I swivel and look straight into midnight blue eyes.
“Logan,” I murmur.
“Where’s the fire?” he asks, amusement in his voice.
I point to the library entrance. “In there. I should really go.”
He looks torn between stopping me from making an escape since I just admitted to a fire, and coming with me.
“Wait.” He follows me around the corner before he catches my arm again. “Are you running away?”
“Not from you,” I say, peering around the corner. I wince when I place my hand on the brick wall of the building.
“You hurt yourself.” Logan grabs my hands. His eyes are glued to the palms, where small beads of blood stain the surface. I see him swallow. “It’s bleeding.”
His pulse throbs at his neck, and he squeezes my hands and then yanks his eyes away. “We should get this taken care of.”
“It’s a scratch.”
He grins. “I’ll help you escape.”
I hear voices around the corner and escape sounds like a great idea. “Okay.”
Logan curls his arm around my shoulder, and I can feel the strength in his muscles. He guides me across the alleyway and two doors down to an independent building. There’s a medical cross on the front above the door.
He ushers me inside and nods at a man at a desk. “Hey, James.”
James nods back. “What have we got here?”
Logan’s eyes flicker to mine with amusement. “A felon.”
I glare at him although technically it’s true. I did just run away from the scene of a crime. But then, no one can prove I caused the fire. And it was just a few flames. I imagine Ryan and the rude librarian have it under control by now.
My only regret is that I didn’t get to check out my books.
“Can we use your first aid kit?” Logan asks.
“Sure. In the back,” James says.
I follow Logan to the back of the large room, where there’s a cot next to a few chairs. “Where are we?” I ask.
“Search and rescue coordination station.”
“That’s a mouthful.”
“Sit,” he says. When I go for one of the chairs, he snags my arm and swings me to the cot. “Here.”
“Really? I just need a sink to wash my hands.”
He nudges me onto the cot. “It could get infected.”
“That’s reaching a little, don’t you think?”
His smile is dangerous. “You never know.”
I set my hands in my lap and watch the way the muscles on his back move through his black Henley when he reaches for a first aid kit. I could handle getting rescued like this more often.
He sits in a chair and scoots it close enough our knees are touching. He places his hand on my knee as he adjusts in his seat, and the warmth sends tingles all the way up my leg.
“Do you work here?” I ask, distracting myself from his touch.
“Seems like you’re a good guy to have in an emergency.”
He holds up antiseptic. “This is going to sting.”
He sprays it on both palms and I grit my teeth. Then I catch my breath when he leans in, sliding his hand against my cheek and into my hair. “Just give it a minute and the pain will go away.”
With his gaze so strong and even on mine, I can hardly feel anything. Except for calm.
His hand tightens on my hair, sending a shock of desire straight to my stomach. “I’m having a hard time not kissing you right now,” he says, breath warm against my lips.
“I’m having a hard time convincing myself you shouldn’t.”
He sets his hand on my thigh again. I exhale when he slides it a little farther, glancing toward the front of the building where James is occupied with a phone call.
“Did you convince yourself yet?” he asks, eyes dropping to my lips.
“Sorry.” I clear my throat because it doesn’t sound convincing if I can’t even get the words out. “Not this time.”
Logan drops his chin for a moment, then pulls back. “Probably a good idea. I think you only need one bandage.” He touches his fingertip to the deepest scrape. “Right here.”
I let him put the bandage on in silence. When he finally does speak, he says, “Shit. I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“You’re here researching and I’m…” He gives a wicked grin. “Trying to distract you.”
“What’s life without a little fun?” I ask, standing.
But I was distracted. And pretty tempted to take a detour wherever Logan wanted me to go. That isn’t going to help me figure out where my mom is or why I’m supposed to be here. And it definitely isn’t safe for him considering my history with getting intimate.
He invades my space, sliding his hands from my shoulders all the way down my arms to grasp my hands. “I think we should go out.”
“Go out where?”
“On a date. Wherever you want.”
“The Shadow Hill Hotel.”
I have the satisfaction of seeing his eyebrows lift before his face relaxes into a grin. “I’m not going to say no to that.”
“For research,” I tell him, stepping back.
“Always a catch.” He gathers the items to return them to the first aid kit. “I can handle that, though.”
“I need to get a feel for the place. I might be able to use it in an article.”
“Wouldn’t hurt to look around. Tonight? I could pick you up at six so we have some daylight before dinner in their restaurant.”
“Dinner?”
“I want a date, you want research. I think it’s a good compromise. The wine will help you relax.” He grins. “And make you more open to the spirits.”
“So you’re saying the hotel is haunted?”
“Why don’t you tell me what you think when we get there?”
I shrug. “It’s a date. I’m at the motel over on Blake. You know it?”
“Yep. What room?”
“217.”
He follows me to the door.
“You don’t have to walk me out.”
“You’re not running anymore?”
I peer outside, scanning the street for Ryan. I don’t see him or the librarian. “All clear.”
He props his hand on the wall beside me. “You going to tell me what that was all about?”
I flash a smile. “Maybe after the wine helps me relax.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
I leave and realize I’m holding my breath. Hold me to it. He can say that, but it doesn’t mean I’m going to comply. The last time I let the flames come out, a guy I was dating was trying to take our relationship a little too far. He’d gone to the hospital with severe burns on his arms.
Getting intimate with someone is a bad idea. I don’t know if something might happen again. I blow out a breath. But this is research. And as long as Logan keeps his distance, I’ll get wine and some information. Not a bad combo in my book.
~ ~ ~
Back in my motel room, I shove my hands in my hair and do a slow turn. Something’s wrong. It’s not the door, which was locked just as I left it. It’s not the curtains, which are still open from when I’d whipped them to the side once the Book of Shadows started going through pages on its own.
My gaze travels to the desk where I’d left the book. There’s nothing there.
I walk over, touch the spot I left as if that’s magically going to give me answers. Then I duck down to look under the desk. Finally, I do a quick sweep of the room just in case. But I’m not worried the book somehow moved itself to another location. I’m worried someone moved it.
Or stole it.
Grabbing my room key, I jog outside, down the stairs and to the front office. There’s a middle-aged man inside reading a familiar UFO magazine. I wrote an article for them once.
“Excuse me,” I say.
He looks up. “Can I help you, miss?”
“Was there someone in my room today?”
“The maid probably. Oh, and there’s a crew on site preparing to renovate some rooms in our main building. But they shouldn’t have been in your room.”
Bullshit. Someone was in there. But I can’t accuse someone if I don’t have proof. I change tactics. “I was thinking about doing some renovations myself. I might have to take a look at their work and talk to whoever’s in charge. Do you know who that would be?”
“Ahh…” He flips through some papers on his desk, then swivels to a file cabinet behind him. There are more papers on top and he checks them before turning back to me. “Ryan McCord.”
Ryan. I grit my teeth. I’m not surprised.
I force a smile. “Thanks.”
I walk back to my room, mind racing with scenarios to confront him. Most of which involve setting something on fire. Preferably him.
If I knew more about my witch history, or had a Book of Shadows, I’d do a spell. But a good old-fashioned break-in might have to suffice.
Chapter 4
Logan already thinks I’m a felon, so I’m almost tempted to tell him how I think Ryan stole my book and involve him in my crazy scheme to break into Ryan’s house. But logic gets the best of me, and I decide against it.
Even worse than being a felon is getting caught, and I don’t know Logan well enough yet to believe he’d keep my secret, let alone be my accomplice.
He picks me up on time, dressed to match my sleeveless black dress. I don’t know why I brought it, but a girl never knows when she’s going to need something fancy. Ghost hunting sometimes requires a specific kind of attire.
The heels put me closer to Logan’s height, enough that I’m staring at his eyes instead of his lips when I step out the door.
He smells like the woods, something dark and inviting. Mysterious. It’s hard not to lean in for more.
Logan scoops his arm around my waist, turning his mouth so it brushes my hair. “I’m rethinking dinner.”
“Can’t. I’m on assignment.”
“Really?”
I nod.
He narrows his gaze. “Really? You’re actually writing an article? That wasn’t just a story?”
I laugh, nudging him away from me. “No. I told you I’m a freelance writer. If I find an angle here, I might have a story. A story means getting paid. And if I plan on staying in Shadow Hill for a while, I need money.”
“So you’re planning on staying?”
My heels click on the stairs as we descend to the parking lot. I consider my answer. M
ore than a story, I need to find my mom. I shouldn’t be researching before I find out more about her, but I’m not sure where to look. And talking to Ryan doesn’t seem to be helping.
“I’m planning on staying long enough to get a story,” I amend. “I don’t know how long that will take.”
He opens his car door for me and the smell of his cologne follows me inside. I breathe slowly while he walks around to the other side and gets in again, flashing me a smile. My stomach tightens when he reaches for the stick shift and his hand grazes my leg.
The fire stays buried inside.
I can’t say it’s going to stay there, which is why spending time with Logan, especially when his dark eyes collide with mine, is a bad thing. I’m getting pretty good at convincing myself bad is sometimes good, though.
Logan starts the car and backs out. “You look amazing, by the way.”
“Thanks.”
He checks the street before pulling out. “Do you always bring something like that when you research?”
I glance down at the tight black dress and quirk one corner of my lips. “I find I get more answers this way.”
“I’ll tell you anything you want,” he says, voice low. “Right now.”
I smile. “I want to know about…wolves.”
His hand tightens so hard on the stick shift I see his knuckles turn white. He’s lost the cocky smile and now a muscle works in his jaw.
“I guess I need a better dress,” I say, intrigued. Logan knows something.
“No.” He clears his throat with a sly glance at me. “I just didn’t know how…acquainted you were with local folklore.”
“You mean wolves in Shadow Hill are a legend? Because I’m pretty sure I saw one my first night here.”
He shifts smoothly and points to our right. “There’s a nice hike that way if you want to get out and enjoy the beginning of the summer. The path is pretty dry.”
There are trees with bright green leaves guarding a path I can only partially make out. Aspens and pines rise up the hill. It’s backed by a mountain that’s still capped with snow.
“Not a terrible distraction technique,” I tell him. “But I still want to know. Are there wolves around here? Is that really what I saw?”