Jittery with nerves, I scour the rest of the books Giles gave me, growing more and more anxious as each book provides the same explanation. I reach for the next book only to realise I’ve reached the bottom of the pile.Oh. My. Stars. I lean back in my chair, digesting the information in stunned silence.
I don’t know what I’d been expecting—something bad if I’m being honest—but it certainly wasn’t this. My fated mate. Is that really what’s happening here? All the books with chapters on recurring visions certainly point that way… but they also said eleven days is the longest recorded example of a moon witch getting visions of their mate. I’ve been seeing Golden Boy for almost three weeks—nineteen days to be exact. Is that too long? No. One of these books said experts speculate that some moon witches have visions of their mate for longer without telling anyone.
My fingers tap against the desk in a staccato rhythm. I’m trying not to get my hopes up in case the vision turns out to be about something else. Most supes wait a long time to meet their fated mate—I’m only twenty-five, young even by human standards from what I’ve heard. But if the man in my vision isn’t my mate, who is he? More importantly, why does the thought of him not being my fated send an arrow of pain straight through my heart? I wish Esmeray were still here—she’d know what was going on.
Shaking off my wistfulness, I pull out my notebook and jot down everything I’ve learned. I wish I could take the books home with me to read all the way through, or at least come back to thelibrary and work my way through them. It’s beyond unfair that key information like this isn’t part of Academy level training for moon witches, and I can only imagine the other secrets hidden within the pages of these books.
When I’m finished, a sigh filled with longing escapes me. I can’t ask Giles to help me more than he already has. If anyone found out he gave me access to academic titles without the proper paperwork, he could get in serious trouble—he’d certainly lose his job at the library. Tilting my head back as if the sky might hold the answer to my problem, I notice the golden hue to the light shining through the glass ceiling telling me it’s near sunset. The library doesn’t close for a couple more hours… A mischievous smile plays on my lips. No reason I can’t stay and read as much as I can until then. Esmeray didn’t have time to teach me everything she learned throughout her long life before she died, but hopefully this will fill in some of the gaps in my knowledge. The free-spirited witch would approve of my breaking the rules for once. She always said I was too well behaved, and I’d always remind her not all of us were old enough to consider the newer laws a mere suggestion. Smiling at the memory of her twinkling blue eyes, I get comfortable, reopen the book closest to me, and uncap my pen ready to take copious notes.
When the sky above has long since transformed into a blanket of stars and the library lights flicker on and off to let everyone know it’s closing time, I flex my cramping hand then pack up my stuff. Stiff from sitting in the same position for so long, I’m slow making my way downstairs. A few other stragglers are still packing up when I reach the ground floor, and Giles glares at them from behind the help desk.
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
The reminder of the reason I came here in the first place makes my heart flutter. “Yes. Thank you.”
He bobs his head in acknowledgement before turning to flick the lights off and on again. Chuckling at his impatience, I head for the door.
Will I really meet my fated mate soon? I wonder what he’s like. The vision doesn’t give any indication as to what kind of supernatural he is. Could he be a witch like me, or something else? It doesn’t matter to me, but what if he’s unhappy I’m a moon witch? Would fate really be so cruel? Zipping up my jacket to fight against the chilly night air, I begin the short walk back to my cottage. There’s no sense in worrying—easier said than done, but true nonetheless. If what I’ve read is any indication, Golden Boy and I could cross paths any day now. Fate knows what it’s doing. I just need to be patient.
Chapter 6
Jared
Ireally don’t want to sleep in my car tonight. For a start, it’s not large enough for my tall frame to stretch out in comfortably, especially not with all of my belongings crammed into the boot and back seat. Whatever wouldn’t fit into the car I sold or donated in the week since getting the job in Crystal Lake. Once I found out the job was in the very place I’m trying to investigate, I was even more eager to leave London for small town life. Luckily my old flat came furnished, and once all of that was taken out of the equation, I realised I had a pitiful amount of stuff. After boxing up my clothes and books, it didn’t take long at all to pack up the rest of my belongings.
Aside from the obvious longing for a comfortable bed, the other reason I don’t want to be stuck camping out in my car tonight is the weather. What started out as a cool autumn day has quickly become a bloody chilly night out here in the middle of nowhere now the sun has set. I’m dressed warmly, but I’ve still been grateful for the sedan’s heating these past few hours.
I let out a weary sigh, my large hands tightening on the steering wheel in frustration. If I don’t find my way out of this pitch-black maze of country roads soon, I’ll have no choice but to pull off into a nearby field for the night or risk falling asleepat the wheel. Once the initial shock of landing the job in Crystal Lake wore off, I’d been concerned about finding my way to the mysterious little town. Before I had time to panic, my new boss emailed a map, saying she knew the town could be difficult to find. Kendra must have scanned it into her computer because it lookedold. The hand-drawn map was an artistic masterpiece, and it felt wrong to print off a copy to guide me through the last leg of my journey. A map like this should only ever exist on worn parchment, not a now-crumpled piece of A4.
Just as I’m about to abandon hope, I see a faint glow in the distance.Please let this be it. I creep down the uneven country lane towards the light, my shoulders lowering from around my ears when a familiar sign comes into view, illuminated by a lone lamppost.
Welcome to Crystal Lake. Population 16,829.
Make that 16,830 now I’ve finally arrived. A tingling sensation runs over me as I forge onward past the welcome sign with renewed enthusiasm now I know I’m going the right way. I shake out my hands one at a time. Must be static electricity. When the bumpy road eventually transitions to smooth tarmac with a few lampposts dotted along either side, there’s no holding back the grin I feel taking over my face. The first signs of civilisation I’ve encountered for some time are a welcome sight.
Soon enough, I pass by houses that gradually get closer together the further into town I go. A few minutes later, I’m on what has to be the main road through town. Quaint shops with quirky names line the street, bathed in the soft glow of old-fashioned lampposts. So far the town is living up to the picture Garrett painted, and the part of me that loves sniffing out a story buzzes with anticipation. But there would be time to exploretomorrow. Tonight, I needed to find my new home and get some sleep.
Ever helpful, Kendra, my new boss, put me in touch with the local real estate agent as soon as I accepted her job offer. The chipper guy who introduced himself as Guppy—that has to be a nickname—is one of the most efficient people I’ve ever come across, and an hour after our phone call he emailed me photos of the place he found for me and a map of the town with my new home helpfully circled.
After consulting the town map, I navigate my way to the two bedroom house that will be mine for the duration of my stay in Crystal Lake. When I pull onto the driveway, I’m both impressed and relieved to see the place looks as nice as the photos. Renting somewhere sight unseen was a risk, but unless I wanted to be stuck in a hotel room tripping over my boxes of stuff until I could find a place myself, it was the only option. At least the gamble seems to have paid off this time.
Just like the letting agent promised, the keys really are under the mat. Picking them up, I shake my head in disbelief at the lack of concern over security. It’s going to take me a minute to adjust to the trusting nature of small town life, but hopefully I’ll be able to use it to my advantage once I start digging into whatever is really going on here.
As far as the town is concerned, I’ve moved to Crystal Lake to join the local newspaper’s small team, replacing a guy who’s just retired. Technically, it’s the truth. I don’t know much about small towns, but even I know their residents aren’t usually too keen on outsiders, especially not ones from a big city. If I’d arrived here as a tourist, it’s likely I would never get the locals to trust me enough to reveal the big secret. Assuming there is one. There’s every chance I may have moved up here for nothing, but Garrett acting so shifty when I questioned him about this place, and my gut feeling, tell me there’s something strange happeninghere. And if I’m wrong at least I’ll be able to reconnect with an old friend and enjoy a break from the endless hustle of London life. The locals will probably still need time to warm up to me, but moving to town instead of visiting should ease the way a little. Plus, my new job role offers the perfect excuse to ask plenty of questions without raising suspicion.
Keen to get out of the cold and see the inside of the house, I unlock the door and step over the threshold. Using the torch on my phone, I scan the wall for a light switch and flip it on, bathing the small entrance hall in warm yellow light. Immediately I notice the row of hooks mounted on the wall opposite the door and the shoe rack underneath. It’s then I realise I’m standing on a welcome mat with a picture of a howling wolf and text underneath that reads ‘Welcome to my den’. I snort. The previous tenant must have left that behind.
Confident nobody is going to try breaking into my car, something I’d been very concerned about during the multiple trips to and from my flat while packing it up this morning, I decide to walk through the house. Familiarising myself with the layout before bringing my boxes in is the smart move, plus I know I won’t be able to relax until I’ve confirmed the house is empty. Healthy? Probably not, but it’s the only way I’ll get any sleep tonight.
After a quick but thorough exploration of the house I’m equally pleased with the modern yet cosy interior as I was with the outside. The downstairs is open-plan, with large windows to make the most of what I expect will be a lovely view in the daylight. Given the late hour, I won’t unpack anything but my suitcase tonight. Still, I’d rather leave the boxes in the correct room now so they’re ready for me when I begin the task tomorrow morning. Thanks to the built-in bookshelves in the living area, I’m able to leave most of my boxes downstairs—I might not have a lot ofstuff, but Idohave a fairly large collectionof books even after donating several volumes before leaving London.
Returning from my final trip out to the car, my jaw clicks with the force of the yawn that overtakes my body as I lock the door behind me. Time for bed. Wearily, I lug my suitcase full of everything I need to see me through tonight and tomorrow morning upstairs and into the main bedroom. After tearing the plastic off the new mattress that’s waiting for me, I wrestle out the duvet and pillows from the box I left up here earlier and make the bed. It’s a real effort to resist the urge to climb under the covers immediately, but after driving for hours and hefting around all those boxes I’m in need of a shower. First I check all the doors and windows are locked—something I never felt compelled to do more than once before my encounter with The Raven. When a jiggle of the front door handle assures me it’s firmly secured, I head back upstairs ready to shower and settle in for the night. Hopefully the sounds of the unfamiliar house won’t keep me awake. I need to be well-rested in order to tackle everything on my to-do list before starting my new job on Monday. Kendra wanted to give me a week to settle in before I started at The Chronicle, but I told her that wouldn’t be necessary. I’ve already had too much free time alone with my thoughts since Corbin forced me out of The Ledger. I’m more than ready to get back to work and the distraction it provides.
With shower-damp hair, I pad back into the bedroom, relieved to have traded my jeans for comfortable flannel pyjama trousers. Once my phone’s plugged in to charge I turn off the light and lie on my back staring up at the ceiling. Was Corbin right? What if accepting a job here really was a mistake? It’s possible there is no big secret, and there’s no guarantee Garrett still lives here. It’s been years—he might have moved on. For the first time since accepting the job at The Chronicle doubt weighs on me. Rolling onto my side as if I can turn my back on myproblems I clutch the duvet tightly against my chest. No. My gut hasn’t led me astray before. I need to give it time. Even if there’s no mystery and no Garrett, there’s also no Raven. Crystal Lake could be my chance at a fresh start if I’m brave enough to take it.
I wake up bright and early after sleeping surprisingly well—the drive must have worn me out more than I thought. Glad I thought to pack coffee and a couple of cereal bars in my suitcase I enjoy a quick breakfast at the kitchen island before throwing on jeans and a t-shirt, ready to get to work. By the time my stomach growls around noon I’ve got everything unpacked and, surrounded by my belongings, the house feels a little more like mine.
I don’t have anything in for lunch and I’ll need to get food for the coming week anyway, so a trip to the shops is necessary. After looking at the map of the town, I figure out most of the businesses seem to be in the town square and it’s surrounding streets. Donning my chocolate-brown leather jacket, I step outside. If I can find my own way to the town square hopefully someone will point me in the direction of some kind of supermarket.
