My laugh booms inside the room from her wide-eyed expression. Mattie kicks out at me, but I catch her leg. “Yes, little bug, but this existence often is insane. We’re all just molecules of magic swirling in a cosmos of chaos.”
Her body sags, becoming dead weight as she flops back onto the bed. “How do we stop it?”
“You don’t stop it. You finish it,” I answer. “The witch mentioned a ritual, but of course, the old bat didn’t give me enough details to be helpful.”
“I can’t imagine why. You’re so charming.” Mattie rolls her eyes, and I grin at her ability to snap back, even when she’s ready to fall apart.
“I’ve had nothing but time to hone my skills.” I flash a wider smile at her and have just enough time to move my head to the side to keep her foot from colliding with it.
Her eyes suddenly widen, and she shoots up, grabbing me by the shoulders. “Take me to her,” she says. I tilt my head, trying to examine what’s going on in hers. “Take me to her,” she says again.
“The witch?” I ask, my eyes narrowing. It might not be a terrible idea. Maybe she’d be more inclined to answer Mattie’s questions than mine, since it’s her life that hangs in the balance.
“Yes, the witch. Try to keep up,” she mocks me. “I’m better than you at pretending I’m not a monster, so let me ask the questions.”
“After tonight’s little display in the bar, I beg to differ.” Mattie immediately looks wounded, and I snap my jaw shut. This must be what guilt feels like.
“I’ll take you to her,” I concede. My hands roam across her thighs, wishing I could part them.
Mattie slowly relaxes under my touch, each muscle carefully unwinding beneath my fingertips. “Please don’t go,” she whispers. “I’d rather you rip my soul out by the roots than be alone again.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
mattie
Branches crack under my bare feet and cold air stings my lungs, but my body continues to run long after my mind has given up. Just a little further. I have to keep going.
I’m so tired. If I can just reach the lake, I can find whatever I’m so desperately looking for. I can finally have my answers. Keep going.
Myknees buckle as I reach the edge of the icy surface, covered in a layer of snow. I scramble to scrape off the cold powder, inch by painful inch.I have to go faster. I race against the pounding of my heart.
My red, raw fingertips finally peel away the final layer, and I see myself reflected on the ice.I fall back in horror, but I need to look again. I stare at the other version of myself. Wide, black pupils stare back at me, unblinking. Shadows snake across my skin. I reach for the top of my head to feel for the small antlers I see in my icy double, and I scream as my fingers meet the nubs of bone.
The rumbleof thunder rolls in the distance, waking me. My eyes wrench open, and I’m met with the blackness of my room. My hands grab at my chest like I can keep my heart inside its cage and then immediately go to my head. Nothing. It was a dream—another nightmare. “Hello,” I call out, but no response greets me.
My stranger had stayed until I fell asleep, promising me he’d take me to get the answers I crave. I’d stupidly believed I wouldn’t wake up alone again, even more confused than before. What is happening to me?
Birds cry out to each other outside my window. The sun will be up soon, and I’ll need to drag myself through another day. I can’t keep waiting for my stranger to just appear, but maybe I can coax him out. I need him to take me to this witch before I lose my mind completely, if it’s not gone already.
I head to the kitchen and start up the coffee pot before I find a scrap piece of paper and a pencil. I try to sketch out the image that has been haunting me. I’m about to crumple it in defeat when I hear a car rumbling up the gravel driveway. Fuck.
I run to my room to throw on some shorts and a tank top, shoving my folding knife in my front pocket. Whoever is out there isn’t stopping by to borrow a cup of sugar. My hands shake as I pull back the threadbare curtain on my bedroom window, just enough to see the sheriff’s car roll up. My stomach plummets and feels like it’s about to fall out my behind. I haven’t even had a cup of coffee yet.
Seconds tick by until his fist slams against the front door, rattling the frame of my cabin. “Open up, Mattie,” he shouts. So much for manners, Sheriff.
I straighten and wait. I’m not going running to the door for this man just because he’s demanding it. He can go fuck himself for all I care.
“Open this door before I break it down. It’s Sheriff Rustin Danvers.” My eyes roll even though my hands shake. He rattles the doorknob, growing more impatient. Now would be an excellent time for my stalker to appear out of the woods.
I clench and release my hands several times. My fingertips tingle, and the muscles in my legs twitch as my brain shuffles through my options. I walk steadily towards the front door until only the shaking piece of wood is between us. “This is private fucking property,” I call out to him. I hope my words sound steadier than I feel. “You can come back with a warrant.”
“Listen here, Mattie Gibson. I don’t care what direction our case is headed in now. There’s a lot of weird shit happening in these woods, and I know you have something to do with it,” he huffs. I hear his footsteps as he paces on the porch in front of the door.
“You don’t know a fucking thing about me,” I snarl back, summoning confidence I don’t have. The only way he’d know anything about me is if he knew my pa, which would say far more about him than me.
“Normal women don’t live out here by themselves,” he sneers. My body shakes with anger. I wonder what expression would be his last, forever etched on his pale and bloated face as he floats out in the water. His next words confirm my suspicions and sink my stomach like a lead weight. “Your daddy was doing some fucked up shit out here too.”
“I am not my pa!” I shout, leaning on one arm to brace myself against the door. Black spots cloud my vision.
