“Stupid fucking tradition.”
Yet here I was doing it anyway. Maybe it would keep the shadows of whatever unlikely ghoul, goblin, or scarecrow away for one night.
I slammed the door shut with finality.
Chapter
Twelve
Chadfuck Dennison could fuck right off to hell. His twin brother, Malcunt, could go fuck himself, too.
The way both Bale and I would love to put them both in the corn maze hunt was borderline psychotically obsessive. There wouldn’t be a word strong enough to describe the torture we’d subject them to.
However, the Town Council made sure with their enchantments that we didn’t do our murderous duty to the protected few. Though if ever given the chance, it would be the bloodiest chase through the maze we had ever taken part in.
What a glorious day that would be.
Long after Harlow had left the festival, Bale and I kept a close eye on the mayor’s pride and joy. If Chad so much as smiled in the direction she had gone, I’d peck his eyeballs out, then shit in the gaping holes.
After an hour of not bothering to conceal the fact that we were staring, it seemed that our girl was in the clear. Perhaps the Dennison bloodline had some common sense after all.
Damn, there was that “our” bullshit again.
With my hands comfortably nestled in my pockets, I headed for the courtyard exit.
“Where the hell are you going?” Bale gruffed out. He had already turned towards the cornfield.
I smirked, shrugging my shoulders with coy innocence. “Midnight snack. The town’s full of delicious treats tonight.”
His expression darkened, and it should have deterred me.
Nobody said anything about going to visit a pretty little kitty-cat. He just assumed as much. Andthat? Oh, it told me everything about his little “hate me or fear me” stunt he had pulled earlier.
I preened with a shit-eating grin, feeling victorious that he was agitated. His jealousy was masked as both indifference and irritation in one complex bundle of emotions.
“You know, all those apples left out on everyone’s doorsteps aren’t going to eat themselves,” I remarked casually.
He shook his head and flipped me off before walking off, tension heavy in his shoulders. Bastard was probably going to brood on his cross frame all night, pretending he didn’t have it as bad for Harlow as I did.
Either he’d come around, or he wouldn’t. Regardless, it didn’t change what I felt for my one true mate.
Walking towards the old Faust homestead, I looked down at my makeshift bandage around my hand. The bandana came from Bale’s back pocket, probably dirty as hell, too. Asshole still found digging around in the fields occasionally to be a form of relaxation.
Masochist.
There was something that warmed me deep in my chest that Harlow had marked me and drawn blood. Knowing a part of me had been in her mouth had me fucking hard and ready to see what else she could take from me.
Without breaking my stride, I loosened the knot of the bandana to see that the wound was almost fully healed now. The small punctures were barely even noticeable now. Swift healing was one of the few perks of whatever it was that kept Bale and me alive all these years.
At the corner near the library, I paused to deposit the scrap of fabric into a public trash bin. Looking up at the lamppost shining down on me, I saw the outline of one of my brethren. The subtle shift of wings, the distinguishable outline of its head and beak, and the tainted air that came along with recognizing one of your own.
My body blended into the shadows as my bones shrank and restructured, flesh tore and reknit itself together, and darkness consumed my form. There was aseamless transition into my crow form as I immediately found myself taking flight.
I swooped around the lone crow perched on the metal arm of the streetlight. A friendly warning of whose territory this was.
Watching the other bird take off, the message had been received.
Continuing to fly over the rooftops and trees, I headed straight toward the woman dominating my mind.
