“Thank you, that means a lot—having you as a friend, I mean. I …” I paused and blinked back tears as I realized how much I meant my words. Harold had been there for me at a time in my life that I hadn’t had anyone else to talk to. His crazy candy selections and easy conversation had gotten me through a lot of tough days. I cleared my throat, trying to stay focused. I really couldn’t afford to spend a lot of time out here in the open. Even now, I could already feel the sense of being watched getting stronger. I never knew when I was imagining it or when it actually meant danger was near.
“There’s a story of a woman,” I said. “A legend, really. I actually have no idea if it’s actually a woman or some sort of energetic entity,” I admitted. “Stories say she is an old magic wielder and I could use some input on that.”
I bit my lip, wondering if he’d ask why I was so interested in a magic that had supposedly died off.
“Old magic, eh?” Harold rubbed his stubbled chin thoughtfully. “What’s her name?”
“They call her Sushna,” I said and Harold sat up straighter, eyes wide, jaw slackening. Slowly, he closed his mouth and shook his head, a wry smile on his lips.
“What is it?” I asked.
“You certainly know how to go big, don’t you, girl?” He chuckled.
“I don’t know any other way,” I said, returning his smile with one of my own. “Does that mean you know of her?”
“Of course. Sushna has quite the reputation.” He got up and dusted off his hands, gesturing for me to follow. “All right then. Come along.”
“Where are we going?” I asked, jumping up and scurrying along beside him. I expected us to return for the cart but he left it, along with the line still waiting for his return, and veered away, into the thicker trees that lined the outskirts of the park. No hiking trails or dog parks here. Only shadows and long, winding branches beckoning to stay away—or come inside.
The perfect place for an ambush. My stomach tightened.
Harold ducked in between two of the largest trunks and stopped on the other side, out of sight of the park patrons.
“Redwoods,” he said, placing a hand on the reddish-brown bark. When I only continued to stand beside him uncertainly, he reached for my hand and placed it on the crinkling trunk, my fingers overlapping his. “They speak to me,” he explained. “Now, maybe, they will speak to you.”
“The trees?” I asked in disbelief. “That’s how you find things?”
“I don’t find them so much as they are shown to me,” he said slowly, as if trying to choose the right words. “The Sequoia sempervirens are the oldest living trees on Earth. Their roots are shallow but extend far, overlapping. Their knowledge is ancient and far beyond what we can see or remember or discover. The trees are silent watchers and they see all.” Something about the way he looked when he said that made me nervous.
“The trees see all,” I repeated, averting my gaze as I remembered how Alex and I had buried my friend Bernard in the redwoods. Had the trees seen that too? I could only hope they weren’t pissed at me for it. Especially when we were apparently about to ask for their help.
I found Harold watching me, waiting patiently, and I nodded, trying to ignore how silly this whole thing felt. Touching a tree for information...
He closed his eyes and then took a deep breath, humming low—more a vibration than a noise. When I only continued to stand there uncertainly, he cracked an eyelid. “You think I’m pulling your leg?”
I hesitated and then shrugged. “I think you needed more than a tree to bring me that dragon’s eye you acquired for Mirabelle last month,” I tell him.
“True. But that was physical. We only need information so we can simply sit and ask. What is it? You doubt the magic?”
“No, I… I guess I just don’t know exactly what you do.”
He smiled. “I am a finder. I find things. Right now, you need information so that is what I will locate. You are a healer, yes?”
“Well… of sorts,” I said, startled that he knew even that much. Maybe Mirabelle had told him?
If my doubts came across, clearly they didn’t bother him. He nodded once, like it was some sort of confirmation needed to proceed. “Shall we?” he asked, gesturing back to the tree.
I thought of the epidote stone and how Mirabelle had mentioned it was meant to ground me when I felt ready to shoot off into the ether. Maybe the redwood tree was Harold’s epidote. Maybe it grounded him as he “communicated.”
“Okay, I said,” nodding with fresh determination—and a more open mind. “Let’s do it.”
“Close your eyes.” I obeyed. “Now, open your mind.” He began humming again, a deep bass that vibrated in his chest and into his hand and then mine where it overlapped.
It grew louder or maybe my senses honed in until the surrounding sounds—birds chirping, the murmur of people down at the park—all faded.
After a moment, all I could hear and feel was Harold’s humming. The sensation of my own skin vibrating grew stronger. My arm tingled with it. And slowly, ever so softly, the tree trunk underneath my hand began to vibrate with it too.
I bit my lip to keep from reacting; I didn’t want to interrupt Harold now. But after another moment, he stopped the sound, took a deep breath and said, “It is done.”
I opened my eyes and found him looking back at me with an unassuming expression. Like we hadn’t just magically communicated with or through a tree for help finding out where one of the most powerful witches lived.
“That’s it?” I asked, surprised at how anti-climactic the whole thing had been. I hadn’t felt anything except the buzzing of his hum.
“It didn’t take much. I had an idea where to look. Sushna can be found in the Obupa Forest.”
“The … Obupa? Is that near here?”
“The Obupa is the last remnant of the ancient wood. It lives inside the world around us.”
I opened my mouth to ask what the heck that meant, but Harold added, “Start at the North Woods Trail. Go north from there and when the forest is too dense to navigate, it will show itself to you. But be warned. Her power is not to be taken lightly. She is a witch from ancient times, and the crones of old do not like their power threatened.”
“I don’t want to threaten her. I just want answers,” I said.
“I know your intentions are good but I can feel your energy, Sam. And she will too. It is her specialty, rooting out power, identity, and the like, and she keeps the information. Holds it for centuries sometimes. That kind of hoarding is powerful in its own right. Not to mention what she can do.” He pinned me with a look. “This is not like the wolves that turn on you.”
“Wait. How did you know about that?”
“Sam,” he said and his tone was gentle. Almost apologetic. “I’m a finder. I locate things and you are on my radar constantly for being lost.”
“Metaphorically or physically?” I grumbled.
His expression softened into a half-smile. “You have more people looking out for you than you realize. It’s a compliment. A blessing. Who knows when the supernatural world will swallow you up.”
“Is that something this Sushna can do?” I asked, suddenly much more concerned about my impending journey than when I’d set out. “Swallow me up?”
“She is the Witherer,” he said, shrugging as if it were that simple. And apparently it was, although I couldn’t bring myself to ask what that meant. If I knew, I had a feeling I might just change my mind about the whole thing. I followed him back out into the sunshine but not before watching as he thanks the tree that had helped us.
“Thank you, Harold,” I said and turned to go.
“One more thing. You should take your stone,” he called and I stopped short, whirling with widening eyes.
“My stone? The epidote?” I frowned, patting my pockets. “I don’t have it,” I said, suddenly half-panicked that I might have come this far, only to fail. “It’s in my bag. With Alex.” My shoulders drooped.
Harold
doubled back and pressed something into my hand. “Take this,” he said, closing my fingers around something hard and angled.
When he stepped back and let go, I opened my fist to find a white stone wrapped in a silk cloth. I was seriously glad for the cloth. I slipped it into my pocket and looked back at Harold, shaking my head.
“How did you know…?” I wasn’t even sure I knew what I was asking. Harold found things. And he kept an eye on me, apparently. Maybe I didn’t want to know how closely he watched, however helpful and harmless he was.
He chuckled. “Relax. Mirabelle asked me to get it for her a few months ago and she told me why. I just think it’ll help.” He chuckled again and shook his head as he turned back toward his cart. “You should have seen your face though.”
“Hilarious,” I muttered but my heart still raced and I realized it wasn’t from anxiety over Harold.
I had gotten what I came for and by some miracle, I’d done it without Alex finding me first and without another feral werewolf trying to eat me for dinner. Harold hadn’t even questioned what I needed from Sushna or whether she could provide it which meant chances were that she could.
Now, all I had to do was find her and convince her to help me—without letting her “wither” me—whatever that meant. And when I was done, and my magic was ready to work for me and not against me, the first order of business was to find Alex and heal him once and for all. Because if I failed, the only thing withered would be my heart.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Alex
By the time I sped over the county line into Half Moon Bay, I was so pissed, I was calm. Sam’s disappearance had cost me my sanity and the little bit of health I’d been clinging to before. Now, sweat poured from my forehead and my skin ran cold and clammy with fresh fever.
I was going to kill that girl. If worrying about her didn’t kill me first.
“Dude, you trying to die before the mission?” RJ asked, way too calm for my tastes from where he sat lounging in the passenger seat. His bandaged leg was stretched as far as it would go against the floor board. He wasn’t at full capacity and he’d signed himself out against doctor’s orders—but who was I to judge.
At his comment, I didn’t spare him a glance. “You don’t approve of my methods, you could have stayed in the hospital.”
“And let you have all the fun?” He snorted.
Any other time I might have cracked a smile but not today. Not with Sam going rogue and my GPS beacon linked to her phone signal the only thing tying us together. What the hell was she doing at the damned park anyway? What made her think there were any answers for her there of all places?
Last time we’d been there…
No, I wasn’t going to think about that. Mason was in custody and half-dead. Hopefully, all the other rabid wolves were on vacation or something.
“She’s at the park,” I said grimly, showing him the phone.
RJ didn’t respond. We exchanged a look that said all we needed to say, and I took the next turn even faster than before. When Edie called for an update, I let him take it and focused all my energy on getting back to town. I flew over the back roads that led away from the coast, barely pausing for stop signs, and grateful for the lack of traffic as I pushed the rental truck to its limits.
“Edie sent a team to Sam’s apartment and another to Mirabelle’s,” RJ said after he hung up. “Her GPS signal is all us.” He picked up the phone again, studying the GPS marker while I navigated downtown.
“Shit, she’s on the move,” RJ said as we neared the curb just outside the park.
I cursed—loud—and banged my hand hard against the wheel. “Where?”
His brows crinkled as he studied the screen. I couldn’t take the suspense. “Jackass,” he said without much conviction as I snatched the phone out of his hands.
I ignored him and studied the screen, watching as the little red dot moved further out of town. “She’s in a car if she’s moving that fast,” I said, frowning as I tried to identify the road.
I punched a couple of buttons and it displayed for me: Route 92.
“Got her,” I said, throwing the truck into gear and squealing tires as we lurched back onto the road.
“Hang on,” RJ said, dropping his phone to cup it against his chest. I realized belatedly that he was on the phone again. “Edie wants you to drop me here for recon. Sam came here for a reason. We need to know why.”
I slammed to a halt, ignoring the horns that sounded behind me. RJ jumped out and the moment he shut the door, I hit the gas, squealing in acceleration once again.
Over the revving engine, I heard RJ yell something about keeping my phone on and then I was gone, following the little red beacon on my phone with growing anxiety.
The farther out of town I went, the more worried I became. And when we hit redwood country and her signal veered onto smaller and smaller country roads, a pit formed in my stomach. I didn’t know for certain but I had a feeling.
She’d gone to find the Obupa.
It was the only logical explanation for her heading in this direction. How she knew where to look was a mystery to me. Hopefully, RJ nailed down the intel at the park. Either way, it looked like I was going in without backup. Just as well. I was the only hunter that had ever been in the hidden forest—and come back out in one piece.
Maybe I could pull it off twice.
Yeah, you said that about defying death, asshole. Look where that had gotten me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sam
I paid the cab driver and hauled ass off the road as he did a three-point turn on the gravel shoulder and headed back toward town. I’d turned my phone on for the length of time it took to give the driver some GPS coordinates in lieu of an address for my destination to the trail head. In that time, I’d counted fourteen missed calls from Edie. Three from RJ. One from Tara. None from Alex. It was the lack of attempts from Alex that had me worried.
My phone dinged as a new text came in. I swiped at it, not even sure I wanted to look. It was from RJ and read simply: He’s coming.
Shit. Those two simple words left my nerves raw and my breaths short.
Alex was on to me.
I had no idea how he knew where I’d gone, but he did know. And now it was only a matter of time before he found me. If I wanted to find Sushna and get some answers, I better move.
So, I tore out of the cab and ran down the trail.
It was easy enough at first, the trail wide, the trees spaced with plenty of room between them to see a fair distance into the woods. I passed a few hikers and earned several confused stares along with murmurs about my jogging gear. Or lack of.
I was still wearing the leggings and boots I’d fished out of my overnight bag earlier. Hardly proper for a strenuous hike. But I couldn’t afford to slow down.
When the trail tapered to a thin ribbon of packed pine needles, I slowed to a walk, veering around trees as the path curved sharply. Deeper and deeper I went until the light changed, the sun’s rays filtering less and less through the thickening canopy.
The presence of other hikers dwindled and then finally disappeared altogether. I pulled my jacket tighter around me, suddenly chilled and feeling the acute awareness of just how alone I was here. My pace slowed even more as I struggled to catch my breath. Why hadn’t I thought to bring water? Or a weapon?
With desperation the only thing pushing me onward, I kept going. The path led slightly downhill and the trees grew thicker as I descended. The shadows lengthened. The trail all but disappeared.
Something sharp snagged my jacket and pain shot through my hip as something hard poked against me. I let out a shriek as I jumped away and whirled, fully expecting a feral werewolf with teeth bared.
A branch, broken off at the end, jutted out from a fallen tree. I let out a sigh and edged around it, cursing at the tiny hole it had left in my jacket.
With my nerves pulled taut, I continued more slowly than before.
I hadn’t gone far
when the terrain changed again.
The tall, austere redwoods and pines gave way to include large patches of shorter, squat arroyo willows that had overgrown into the path. I wound around them carefully, but it slowed me down and made my breaths labored.
A light sheen of sweat coated my brow and I stopped to shed my coat, wishing again that I’d thought to bring water. Harold could have mentioned I wasn’t going to be magically transported and would instead have a very human hike into some sort of hidden forest in the middle of nowhere.
I squatted, leaning against the trunk of a tree for support and took deep breaths. After a moment, I rose, ready to head out again, but something stopped me.
I cocked my head, listening, but I didn’t hear a thing. I scanned what little I could see through the thick woods—which wasn’t very far at all—but nothing moved.
Still. The back of my neck tingled with a sudden awareness.
I wasn’t alone here. Maybe I hadn’t been all along.
Suddenly, something dropped from above enough to send the wind whistling in my ear.
A scream built as I whirled, stepping back and preparing to flee.
Before I could get a single step, a hand shot out and closed around my wrist. Dark chocolate eyes flashed in fury as Alex stared down at me, his chest rising and falling heavily. His shirt was damp and sweat lined his forehead. His knuckles had gone white where he clutched the base of a wooden stake tipped with metal, and his brows were drawn tight. Even from here, I could see his jaw grinding as he looked back at me.
He looked like he might murder me and just die happy right here.
Frankly, at this point, I considered giving in and letting him. It might be easier than trying to convince him to let me finish my current quest. Or explain to myself why I still thought he was the hottest creature I’d ever seen even while he clearly wanted to wring my neck.
Inheritance: (A New Adult Paranormal Romance) (Heart Lines Series Book 2) Page 18