by Rivi Jacks
“You’re forgiven. But I get to meet this Clea,” I add.
“I want you to meet her. She can’t wait to meet you.”
Wait. What? It may be irrational on my part, but I almost feel betrayed. I’m supposed to be everything to him, whereas she is only a good friend, yet I know nothing of her, but she knows of me. Again, it all goes back to my insecurity of only knowing what he wants me to know.
“Do you talk about me with her?” I ask hesitantly.
His answer is slow in coming and wary when it does. “Yes.”
Son—of—a—bitch. I expel the thought on a soft breath.
“But not like you’re thinking, Sofie.”
“You can’t possibly know what I’m thinking.”
“Well, I have a pretty good idea,” he says dryly.
“Then you know that we need to wait and talk about this when we can do it in person and not over the phone. I’m tired, Lucas, I need to go.”
“Sofie—” There’s a warning note in his voice.
“Please,” I plead softly. Talking about this on the phone will only make matters worse.
“I don’t want you upset when I’m not there to make it right.”
When I remain silent, I hear him sigh. “I’ll be busy most of the day tomorrow, and then I have an important business dinner and reception to attend tomorrow evening. I probably won’t be able to call until late tomorrow night.”
“Okay, I’ll be here.”
“Are you sure?”
I frown. “Absolutely.” I slide back down under the covers. “Lucas, I’m not mad, I’m just—tired.” It’s his turn to not respond. “And I miss you something fierce.”
“Well that’s something we can both agree on,” he says, the warmth back in his voice.
“Okay, you have a good day of meetings tomorrow, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow night.”
He doesn’t say anything.
“Lucas?” I whisper.
I think I hear him sigh again before he says, “Good night, baby, sweet dreams.”
I toss and turn for the next hour, my thoughts in turmoil, and then I’m sliding out of bed, knowing what I need to do.
Fifteen minutes later, I let myself out the door off of the steam room hallway. The night is cool and clear, the sky an inky black with a million stars for my viewing pleasure. They look so close I feel as if I could reach up and snatch one of them right out of the sky.
I walk past the arena, knowing I’m in no danger of running into any of the Guard in this area at this time of night. The cabin isn’t far. It’s barely out of sight of the arena, and it feels good to walk, especially since the day has been unseasonably warm. The fresh air and exercise clear my head as I travel the dirt road. So much in my life has changed in such a short time that I’m feeling the effects of all that is different. I feel homesick for the way things used to be. I resent the way I have to live now because of the Kihn. Not the fact that I live with Lucas, I don’t want anything with him to change, but I miss the freedom I had before. The freedom to come and go and not be afraid that the Kihn are out there lurking, ready to kidnap me at any given moment; or whatever the hell it is they want to do with me.
I feel as if I have no control over my life and I know it’s hard for Lucas to understand my need for that. I know he thinks I’m just being careless. But it’s hard to relinquish the control I felt I needed since I was a kid to survive my parents. It’s always been imperative for me to be the one in charge of how I live. Now I feel as if the Kihn are.
I’m also beginning to see that I have a deep-seated need to belong (Emma Rae pointed that one out to me.) I think that may be the reason I’m hurt about feeling excluded from parts of Lucas’ life. I definitely have some issues I need to work on.
Thinking about my conversation with Lucas earlier, I realize that just because he’s able to confide in someone he’s known longer than me doesn’t make it a betrayal. I keep thinking about what Maryanne told me about Lucas and his father. Knowing Lucas, I’m sure that the murder of his dad must have been tragic for him. Maybe that’s the key behind his reluctance to share things with me. Knowing his father was betrayed could possibly cause him to be hesitant in who he trusts. And I can’t let the thought he might not trust me hurt me—because trusting me might not be a part of it at all. I trust Lucas with my life, but there are so many things I keep from him.
Thinking this through and admitting why I was jealous about his friendship with another woman, even if it’s only to myself, is a big step. Crap, I really do need to work on my issues!
The loud snap of a branch pulls me out of my self-analysis, and I look toward the woods on my right. I don’t even have a flashlight with me. I didn’t think I needed one since I was just walking to the cabin. Inside the compound. The sudden rush of unease that comes over me is not a pleasant feeling as I pick up my pace. It was only three nights ago that the Kihn managed to get inside the compound, and I suddenly feel very foolish for being out here unarmed. I wonder if anyone’s within screaming distance.
Okay. Calm down, Reece. Brit placed a powerful protection spell over the compound, and I know Lucas put into motion additional security precautions. Plus, there are members of the Guard patrolling the fences around the compound 24/7. Yeah, that’s probably who’s out there. I try peering into the woods, but it’s too dark to see anything from the road. I don’t hear anything else either, so maybe it was just a deer.
I hurry on, now somewhat spooked. I hear nothing else, and I take a deep sigh of relief when I reach the clearing where the cabin sits.
I wake with a start, sitting straight up in bed.
What the hell was that?
My heart is pounding to the point that’s all I perceive as I strain to hear a repeat of the sound that woke me. I’m not sure, but I think someone was screaming my name like a banshee. Was that what woke me or was I just dreaming?
I look at the bedside clock as I slide out of bed. I’ve only been asleep for an hour. I glance around as I step slowly to the windows in the living room. Looking out to the front of the cabin, the clearing and woods beyond are visible, bathed in the glow of the full moon that now sits high in the early morning sky. Nothing seems out of the norm, but how can I really be sure since this is my first night here at the cabin?
I cross the room and step up into the kitchen, stopping in front of the French doors leading out to the back of the cabin. My eyes scour the future yard before sweeping the tree line. It looks as barren and empty as the front. I unlock and open the door; the only sound is the distant crow of a rooster. Stepping down onto the cinderblock that serves as a back step, I listen intently as my eyes survey the woods again.
Something moves or shifts, and my gaze flashes right back to the far left-hand corner of the lot.
What the—
There’s an unusual shape against one of the tree trunks. I keep my eyes trained on the spot as I take another step down off the cinderblock. It’s hard to tell—
I squint as I take another step wishing I had a flashlight.
Holy shit!
The dark shape is a silhouette, an outline of someone or some—thing. It blends in perfectly in a manner that says this is its natural state. This is how it conceals itself.
I panic, unable to step back into the house as all of my senses are screaming for me to do.
My eyes stay glued to the spot as I realize the shadow extends beyond the trunk. It’s not completely in front of the tree, and that’s how I was able to see it, to begin with. The shadow is tall and slim. It looks like it has long hair that lifts, flowing around its form in the soft breeze, blending in with the constant movement of leaves and vegetation that’s so normal in the woods, you would usually pay it no heed.
As I stand there watching it, I know it’s watching me right back. I can fee
l its eyes on me.
It’s not a good feeling.
In the next instant, a movement closer to me has me glancing away from the shadow as Wolf steps out of the woods.
“Wolf,” I breathe his name with heartfelt relief.
He starts trotting across the clearing but suddenly stops, turning toward the shadow. Baring his teeth, the growl he emits is at once dangerous and intimidating.
I quickly look back to discover the shadow gone. I think I catch a faint, dark movement through the trees as I look for it.
I bend down to hug Wolf once he’s by my side, my eyes still trained on the woods, but he pulls away and takes off back toward the area he just came from.
“Wolf!”
He stops, and turning back, he lets out one sharp bark before continuing toward the woods.
I know he wants me to follow him.
Really?
I glance nervously around the clearing. “Wait!” I call out.
Making my way through the trees is not easy. The Ozark Highlands has some of the roughest terrain in Missouri with the woodland areas wild and untamed. The wooded acreage of Lucas’ land is a prime example with a thick undergrowth of saplings, scrub, and briars. And right now, the woods are no less harsh and unforgiving just because it’s wintertime.
And it’s dark, really dark with the moon now obscured by the clouds. Thankfully, Wolf stays within sight as I follow him. I wish he’d stay closer, though. It would certainly help me to feel better. It’s hard to keep my eyes on Wolf and stay focused on the direction we’re going. Getting lost in the woods is easy. Luckily Lucas’ land is fenced, so eventually, I know if all else fails, I can follow that fence and end up at the front gates.
A low-hanging branch suddenly slaps me in the face, and I bring my arms up and duck at the same time. When I look back up, I can no longer see Wolf. I stop to listen, but I can’t hear him either. I do listen to the sigh of the wind through the treetops, though. I’ve never liked that sound, it always seems so ominous.
The sudden snap of a twig has me spinning toward the sound.
“Wolf?” I whisper hopefully.
When the sound repeats in the opposite direction, I immediately turn back around. I swallow deeply, at once certain that we’re not alone out here.
It’s a bit unsettling.
That’s a joke. I’m scared shitless, especially because whatever is out here is not friendly. Definitely not friendly.
The moon breaks free of the clouds again, and I look up. That’s when I see it.
The shadow.
It’s up in the top of a nearby tree, leaning forward, watching me.
My heart slams against my chest and my gut reaction is to run. I can’t though, I can’t do anything but keep my eyes trained on the dark shape. When the shadow leaps down onto a lower branch, its long hair flowing around it, I take a startled step back. It crouches down on the limb and tips its head to the side as if it’s trying to decide what I am. Or what it’s going to do to me. It’s scary as hell because it has no face, no visible characteristics, just a shadow of a figure—almost human-shaped.
I can’t breathe as I look at what my instincts tell me is pure evil. And I always trust my instincts.
“Wolf!” I cry out for him.
This causes the shadow to jump up. The loud shrill noise it quickly emits has me cringing. It tips its head back as it continues to squeal.
Is it calling others like it?
The shrieking finally stops only to be replaced by a sharp clacking noise. I have a strange thought that it’s laughing. I’m not sure why I’m having these thoughts instead of screaming—or running.
Where the hell is Wolf?
My fingers lift to the pendant that Taylor gave me when it suddenly grows warm. What the hell is up with that?
In the next instant, I hear a noise coming from deeper in the woods. The shadow turns in the direction of the sound, and I take that as my cue to run like hell.
I tear back the way I came, not nearly as fast as I’d like, praying that I’m headed in the right direction as I’m slapped and scratched by limbs and briars. I don’t give Wolf another thought other than I don’t think that was Wolf.
I hear a noise close behind me and almost scream when I look back to see the shadow jumping from one tree to the next, coming after me.
I break into the clearing and run with everything I have toward the cabin. The back door is still open, and I slam it shut, turning the lock as the evil entity slams against the glass.
I fall back onto the floor with a soft cry, scooting backward as quickly as I can. One of the chairs at the kitchen table stops my retreat. Once I can focus again, I realize the shadow is gone.
I stand slowly, not sure what I should do—other than making sure the lock is set. I move cautiously back to the door. My heart feels as if it’s going to pound right out of my chest.
She can’t hurt you.
The words, spoken softly, practically cause me to leap out of my skin. My hand lands on my chest right over my heart to keep it in place.
I don’t turn to look at the Guardian Harvey—because I know I won’t see him. “Don’t do that! Please.” I hastily add.
He chuckles softly, and I do look in that direction then.
“What is—she?” I ask once my heart has reclaimed a little of its normal rhythm.
A Katid.
What the hell is a freaking Katid? “She can’t hurt me?” I ask.
No.
Thank goodness. That—thing can sure scare the shit out of me, though. I give Harvey a shaky little laugh.
But she wants to.
Holy shit.
I look back out toward the woods and there she stands, dark and scary—freaky as all hell.
And as if that weren’t enough to scare the bejesus out of me, I’m quickly apprised of the fact that the shadow does indeed have some facial features as its eyes suddenly glow red.
I stumble back from the glass door and watch as she lifts an arm, pointing menacingly at me with one long, dark finger.
I sit straight up in bed, the covers twisted around my legs.
What the hell was that?
I glance around the room, noticing, through the front windows, the soft, gentle rays of the sun just beginning to lighten the morning sky.
Crap! I lie back down, my heart rate still pounding at an alarming rate.
“I hate freakin’ dreams!” I kick my legs to free them from the blankets and roll over onto my side, covering my head with the pillow.
A phone call from Diane wakes me a few hours later.
“Want to go eat breakfast at Murphy’s? Jake is in Springfield with Nick, and I have the morning free.”
I roll over, stretching. “Sure.” I wonder what Jake and Nick are doing in Springfield. No doubt another one of their secret errands for Lucas.
“Good, I’ll be by to pick you up in about thirty.”
“Make it forty, I need a quick shower.”
“Okay, but be ready.”
“Okay.” I can’t help but smile since Diane is perpetually late.
I lie in bed for a few minutes, remembering my dream. I raise my arms looking for the scratches I would have acquired if I had been out in the woods, but there are none. I sit up on the side of the bed to inspect the bottom of my feet. Nothing. In my dream, I went into the woods in my bare feet. I shake my head and not for the first time I wonder if others have dreams as vivid and real as mine are to me. And if it weren’t for the fact that Harvey was in the dream with me, I would put it off to just being a nightmare, but years of experience tell me it was more than that. But I can’t dwell on it because again, from years of experience, it will drive me crazy if I let it. The thing is, a lot of my dreams have no immediate explanat
ion or resolution. Sometimes it takes time for them to reveal their purpose. But then—maybe it was just my subconscious warning me against walking alone in the dark in the wee hours of the morning.
I scurry off to the shower. Coming here to the cabin to sleep last night was a good idea. I know that I practically fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow and even after I woke, I was able to go right back to sleep. And surprisingly—even after that crazy-ass dream—I seem settled. Staying here at the cabin must have been what I needed because I definitely feel more centered and sure of myself today.
It doesn’t take long to dress and then I’m walking along the dirt road back to the main house. When I left last night, I didn’t think about leaving a note, and I don’t want Max to discover I’m gone and panic. I smile at the thought of Max panicking. I imagine not much gets him ruffled.
I check out the woods as I walk, thinking about my two a.m. trip to the cabin. I’m certain there was nothing out there in the woods, but I managed to get myself rightly spooked, and I’m sure it probably had everything to do with my nightmare. I know I was a little skeptical about the safety features of the cabin at first—but after that scary dream—I think they are a brilliant idea.
When I enter the kitchen, Taylor is sitting at the center island, eating breakfast.
“Good morning,” I greet.
“Morning.” He smiles and then his brow lifts in question. “Have you been somewhere already this morning?”
“Actually—I spent the night at the cabin.”
“You left the house last night—after I left?” he practically demands.
I almost laugh as I reach up into the cupboard for a coffee cup. I think I’ve surprised Taylor. “I did.” He looks over at the corkboard. “I know,” I say. “I forgot to leave a note, that’s why I’m here for coffee instead of enjoying a cup in my new kitchen.”
He shakes his head. “Glad there wasn’t an emergency last night,” he mumbles under his breath. “How are you this morning?” he suddenly asks, and I’m glad he’s changing the subject instead of lecturing me.