My heart is heavy, weeping for a mother I so desperately want to remember. Her love for me was obvious in every word she wrote. Her love for me, my sisters, and my father.
She had no idea he would die with her. I wonder what went wrong. How did he end up dying that night too?
Lost as I am in my grief, I miss the danger until a shadow moves in my peripheral vision. I spin around, scanning the quiet street.
There are a few parked cars.
An old woman watering her flower boxes.
Nothing threatening.
Paranoid. You’re being paranoid.
I force myself to keep walking, but the feeling intensifies. Like invisible fingers trailing down my spine.
A block from the diner, I duck into the narrow alley between Dalton Mercantile and a flower shop. Maybe whoever’s following me will pass by. Maybe I can catch a glimpse of them.
I press my back against the brick wall, listening.
The approaching footsteps on the sidewalk slow. Stop.
My heart hammers against my ribs. I’m about to jump out and confront whoever is stalking me when I’m yanked back by the shoulders and pulled into a trellis. My back hits the side of the building as green vines rope around my wrists and legs, tightening to hold me in place.
“What the hell?”
I’m being attacked by the clematis.Is that even a thing?
But even in the few seconds when my mind is spinning, more and more green vines wrap around my shoulders, pinning me to the wall of the flower shop. They move with purpose, with intelligence, coiling around my wrists and forearms like living rope.
And then he’s there. The guy who’d been glaring at me at the diner the other day. Dark-haired, broad-shouldered, and aclenched jaw dusted in stubble. He’s wearing a heavy gray pea coat with bronze buttons over black jeans.
It’s a good look for him, rugged and manly, but is spoiled a little by the homicidal fury burning in those swirling green eyes. I’m not sure how I inspired this level of hatred in him, but whatever it was, he is all-in.
I’m about to scream when half-a-dozen wide green leaves slap across my mouth and tighten against my cheeks. This can’t be real. The leaves taste bitter, earthy. They conform to my face like they’re made of wet leather.
Our eyes meet, and a jolt of energy washes over me. Electric. Wrong.
Is he the one who was following me?
My mind is spinning, spitting out every alarming ‘what if’ scenario it can conjure. The vines tighten, cutting into my skin until I can’t move.
My breathing is too fast and with my mouth sealed by leaves, I can barely pull oxygen in through my nose.
He moves to stand right in front of me, and the energy crackling inside me goes apeshit. His scowl is intense, and there’s no doubt I’m in deep trouble.
Dark hair falls across his forehead as he leans close, his eyes so green they match the vines holding me captive. “Fight all you want, but you won’t break free of my hold.”
His hold? He’s doing this?Of course he’s doing this. This is a witch thing, right? Only, I don’t know enough about witch stuff to defend myself from an attack. The tendrils of clematis stems respond to his presence like trained pets, tightening when I struggle.
S’Nark! If you can hear me, I need help!
What the hell good is it to have a familiar assigned to me if he’s not around when I need help?
Plant Man grips my chin, forcing me to look at him. His fingers are warm against my skin, and power radiates from his touch. It feels like touching a live wire.
“Sleep.” He utters one word, and it hits me like a punch to the face. The magic slams into my skull, scrambling my thoughts. My vision blurs at the edges.
And the world goes black.
