Forest of Spirits

by S. J. Sanders

  Forest of Spirits

  S.J. Sanders

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Epilogue

  Glossary

  About the Author

  Also by S.J. Sanders

  Forest of Spirits

  A Dark Spirits Romance

  S.J. Sanders

  ©2020 by Samantha Sanders

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without explicit permission granted in writing from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction intended for adult audiences only.

  Editor: LY Publishing

  Cover Artist: Sam Griffin

  Many thanks to all the people who made this book possible!

  Prologue

  Turan smiled as she strolled her beloved gardens. Cyprus was as eternal and constant as she was. All year round, it bloomed with the sweetest of flowers. Not the mortal island—though she bestowed considerable favors upon that sacred land—but her own divine domain that rose from the great cosmic ocean. This Cyprus, her birthplace, had been sung of and praised by poets from Hellas, Etruria, and Rome.

  Plucking a flower, she brushed it fondly against her cheek. She loved each of the names she had been honored by. Each one was as unique and precious as the bloom she held in her hand. It mattered little to her if she was called Ouranian Aphrodite, the seaborn, Turan, the action which gives, or Venus, the very spirit of love and beauty. She cherished each of them even as she cherished the multitude of children she bore. Nothing gave her more pleasure than being a mother. The Etruscans had recognized this when they called her Ati: mother and queen.

  A mother of Erotes, Cupids, many nymphs and spirits, even a mother of mortals, she loved all her children. For that reason, she interfered more than she probably should. She personally considered her interferences to be a good thing. There were a few incidents… Troy was not to be spoken of, though it had a far nobler purpose than what the common understanding of myths gave creed, and Eros still held a grudge over her guidance with Psyche, but overall things worked out well.

  That was also why she had been unable to still her hand when the gates between Aites, the underworld, and the human world flung open wide. She had placed the woman, the key to ending the plague of infernal spirits, in the path of the gatekeeper. She had then sent her beloved son to assist them when their situation was most dire. She meddled only slightly, but it had been enough to save the world for the time being.

  Unfortunately, her meddling couldn’t stop the dangers that would come. There was a new hope, a promise of a new time to unfold, but such changes did not come without a cost. The matching of a human soul to an infernal spirit had been the first of many changes that would impact the cosmos. There would not be a single realm that would remain untouched. It had been bound to happen. All things were cyclic. Nothing remained the same forever. One era was preparing to slip into another, and the tremors could already be felt.

  Her mind drifted to her son. The silvani lucomo had served her well, though he had been reluctant to get involved. He disliked her tendency to meddle more than most of her children did. She wondered what he would think of her latest involvement. Her lips quirked as she recalled the image that he had made as she had looked upon him—the arrogance and hardness of him.

  When she put things into motion to draw his mate to him, she hadn’t seen the darkness rising in the Eternal Forest. He was going to need his mate more than he ever would have realized. The dove would do its part, but Turan needed to move their meeting along.

  Crushing the flower in her hand, she plucked a sphere from the air around her and called up the image of a huntress who lived alone at the edge of the woods. Lifting the crushed petals to her lips, Turan breathed them over the sphere. The woman stilled, her head turning, and Turan smiled.

  “Hurry, my dear. He’s waiting for you,” she whispered as a soft humming vibrated in her throat, spinning the first songs of desire. That small encouragement was all that would be needed.

  A touch was all it took.

  Chapter 1

  The woods themselves were alive in a way that was beyond all modern reckoning. They had been that way ever since the wulkwos ravaged the world, throwing the worlds of men and spirits back together. Things still lurked in the world. Ancient creatures that had been half-forgotten as human civilization grew. Since the mist came, the things of nightmares and legends returned, and people began recounting the old lore of spirits and monsters, but not as happy bedtime stories for children. The old tales were darker and far more complex, of the other worlds that men did not dare pass into. It was whispered about among those who knew, that the wild places were full of predatory eyes and teeth.

  Don’t go into the woods. People disappear in the woods.

  That didn’t stop hunters. Many of the young men saw it as a challenge to court the dangers of the woods and bring back food. It was a matter of survival. Though the community joined in their effort to toil on the farms, it never seemed to be enough. So, the hunters chanced the forests, whether out of bravado or need. People had to eat.

  A lone huntress stood on a hill with her bow just outside the forest that bordered her town. Diana was wise enough to never trust the forest. When the mists came, enveloping the world in its impenetrable cloud, it let monsters loose upon the world. The people huddled in their houses, trembling at the sound of every terrible cry that came from within the unknown void of the white barrier, waiting for the day that it would leave. When it withdrew, it left behind an expansive, dark forest in its wake.

  There had always been a small forested area that provided modest game, but nothing like what had come with the mist. During that time, it stretched out over the landscape, swallowing miles of highway and grass fields until it crept within a short distance of the town and finally stopped. She didn’t know why it didn’t just swallow the entire town and get it over with. The town was only a shadow of what it had once been as people clung desperately to what was familiar. They shunned the unnatural forest that stretched for miles in every direction.

  The forest meant death for the towns bordering it.

  All had the same rumors of disappearances. The rumors were what made “sensible people” stay well away from the woods and the game trails cut through the woods by some unknown for
ce. Even most hunters spent as little time in the forest as possible, driving into the woods via that same mysterious path to fetch any game that they could find. Even the most reckless thrill-seeker among them was afraid of what had come with the forest. Fewer went by foot along smaller paths. It was a form of suicide to trust a forest where people went missing, no bodies recovered, no cries ever heard. It was as if they had disappeared off the face of the Earth. In response, all those who went to into the woods banded together to hunt in groups…

  All except the huntress, who watched as a vehicle rushed from the town.

  The jeep peeled up the dirt road and swung a sharp left, skidding and spraying dirt. The men inside let out excited shouts, their spirits high as they foolishly expended fuel. Diana huffed in amusement as she watched the vehicle disappear into the tree line. They were stupid for driving into the forest, but she still felt a little of their exuberance. She didn’t even mind that they excluded her from their hunting parties. She didn’t like relying on anything that she couldn’t control by her own hand. Technology hadn’t survived since the mist came. All that was left were flawed, dangerous remnants—gas-powered vehicles when there was fuel to spare, and guns, both with the habit of malfunctioning. She trusted neither with her safety.

  Laying her bow across her shoulders, she hooked her arms over the ends of it and stretched as she took in the vision of the woods. It watched her, so she watched it back. It was only fair.

  Despite the dangers, she could not hate the forest, nor did she fear it enough to stay away. Every breath brought with it the musky perfume of the wood, familiar and comforting. The secluded cabin at the lake that she inherited from her grandparents had been her sanctuary when madness struck the populace. She recalled childhood summers playing there, and then later, when she lived beside it after her parents died and her grandparents took her in.

  Her grandfather had taught her to hunt and be self-sufficient in the woods near their home. To respect the woods. He often told tales of the fae folk, entertaining her during their treks. She had those memories to cling to when the world went dark, and the woods had encroached to gather at the edge of the lake like a protective sentinel watching over her.

  She wasn’t a fool, however. She didn’t trust the forest—or rather, she didn’t trust the beings that had crossed over to inhabit its dark depths. Still, those beings had been more reliable in behavior than most people she knew. When the mists receded, Diana had been equipped to take care of herself.

  She went into the woods without fanfare and offered a small gift to the denizens near her home to leave her at peace. It was common sense, really. A gift for a gift. Wasn’t that what all the old stories recommend? In turn, she stayed only long enough to check her traps or bring down game if she was so fortunate. She never ventured deep into the forests and never forgot to leave a small portion of the bloody meat behind as payment. Diana could feel the eyes of strange beings touching her, cold and alien… and always hungry.

  She never forgot to feed them.

  Perhaps that was why she was left alone when others reported disturbances that plagued them. The sort of idiots who wanted to drive deep into the woods to hunt for game, intruding empty-handed. Let them. They were always chased out for their efforts, even when they managed to bring down game to carry with them in their escape.

  Diana had no such problems.

  Dropping her bow to grip it in one hand, she strode into the trees, taking the same route she always took along the smaller game trails, hazel eyes focused on the path. The breeze ruffled her bangs and toyed with the long end of her braid. The lower three quarters was platinum blonde from her last dye job that faded into her natural brown hair. She felt it swing behind her, safely out of the reach of treacherous branches.

  It didn’t take her long to arrive at the fallen trunk where she left her offerings. As always, the immediate area was absolutely silent. Though ragged from where it split, the rest of the length buried in the grasses and brush to the left of it, the tree trunk was like a short pillar that came up to her hip when she stood in front of it. The papery gray bark of the birch tree peeled in numerous places. On the altar, dipped at a slight angle in the only smooth part of the trunk, a small bowl and cup sat in the same place as always, never moved. Not once in the four years she had been coming into the forest had it been disturbed. Yet every time she entered the woods, the dishes were clean and waiting for her. A movement in the distance drew her attention, and she squinted through the trees.

  Nothing.

  A puzzled frown marred her brow, but she bent to leave her usual offerings. In the bowl, she placed a small chunk of bread and several strawberries from her garden. She removed the flask from the inner pocket of her leather vest and poured the mixture she had made earlier that morning of honey and milk into the cup. Returning the lid to the flask, she tucked it back into her vest pocket and stepped back from the makeshift altar. Her eyes scanned the trees surrounding her as she spoke.

  “Whoever you may be, accept this small gift for safe passage in my hunt. A gift for a gift.”

  She waited for the usual sign of acceptance, not daring to move so much as a step away from the altar, not daring even a breath. The branches rustled as a wind blew through from deeper in the woods, the limbs bowing to her. Her breath left her in a loud exhalation. She never took it for granted that whatever lurked nearby in this part of the wood would comply and was always relieved when permission came. On the same token, she never breached the creek some few miles away that bisected the woods. Although it was possibly not a territory boundary, she chose not to take the chance with anything unknown on the other side.

  Whispering her thanks, Diana strode deeper among the trees, heading toward where she knew the first of her traps awaited. The change in atmosphere was immediate. The moment she cleared the area and lost sight of the altar, birdsong burst around her, and the hum of insects filled the air. She relaxed somewhat, as much as she could with the awareness of being watched skating over her skin. She had grown used to it, and so it had become background noise over those few years.

  The bushes to her side rustled, and Diana stopped and frowned at the spot. That was unusual. She waited to see if any animal would dart out, but all movement stopped. Her skin crawled. She didn’t feel threatened, but the feeling of being watched weighed far heavier on her than it had before.

  Minutes ticked by, and nothing happened.

  Diana chuckled under her breath to ease her nerves. She could be getting worked up about nothing. It was likely just an animal that caught sight of her and hid. It didn’t ring true, but she clung to the idea as she walked further into the forest and approached her trap.

  The box trap was simple in design, ideal for catching small game. She knew that some hunters preferred to use snares, but Diana avoided the use of them. She wasn’t always successful with her traps, but she fell into a comfortable rhythm with the forest near her house.

  Spying the box lying flush against the ground, her nerves were forgotten, and elation filled her at the sight. Very slowly, she lifted the trap, revealing a fat rabbit hunkered in place. Whispering her thanks, she dispatched the animal quickly, dropping it into the small leather bag that hung from her belt while she reset and baited the trap. She didn’t linger even a minute longer than necessary, striding off through the brush.

  Diana didn’t want to test the conditional benevolence of whatever watched her.

  Instead, she visited her other traps, only two of which held animals. Another rabbit was added to her catch, providing a spare to be added to the growing stores of meat in her freezer. The weasel, however, she released and watched as it darted away.

  Pushing back up to her feet from where she was crouched, Diana brushed her hands off on her pants. In the distance, she could hear the jeep in another part of the woods, the sound of the loud engine carrying. She had hoped to come across a buck, but that wasn’t going to be possible with those fools in the woods frightening away all the game. She
scowled in its direction, kicking a small stone out of her path as she turned and began her trek home.

  The jeep roared in her direction, screams of terror separating and merging again with the mechanical rumble of the engine. Her blood chilled, and she stumbled over the thick root of a tree, startled at the sound. Regaining her balance, she glanced around warily for but a moment. Her breath rushed in and out with increasing distress, and she choked when the roar of some unearthly beast broke through the woods, nearly eclipsing the noise of the fleeing hunting party.

  Whatever it was, the idiots were bringing it her way!

  Jerking forward into a run, Diana darted through the trees at full speed. She hissed with displeasure, knowing without a doubt that her actions were stupid. She wouldn’t be able to outrun the jeep, never mind whatever was chasing it. All the same, she wasn’t going to stand about and wait for them to catch up either. The muscles in her thighs burned and protested as the trees whipped around her, half blinding her in a mad rush.

  Why the fuck did they have to come this way? And where the fuck was the tree line? Diana turned her head this way and that, looking for anything familiar. This wasn’t right. She couldn’t just flee through the woods. She pulled to a stop, hissing between her teeth as she attempted to reorient herself. She had been so close to the altar near the edge of the woods, she should have run right into it. Shaking her head, she squinted at the sun and cut to the left.