“You’ve been asking around about me?”
“It’s good to know your kidnapper.”
“I didn’t kidnap you.”
“The threat was there,” I said. “Would you have taken me against my will if I said I didn’t want to go with you?”
“You didn’t,” he pointed out.
“But what if I did?”
His silence spoke volumes. I wasn’t totally sure what was in those volumes, but it was something. I was pretty sure he’d have taken me any which way, but I couldn’t be sure.
“The Isle is home to a relatively low number of residents, but they’re a loyal group,” Silas said. “You won’t find anyone who loves their homeland more than an islander.”
“I guess that answers the question as to why you guys don’t just move?” When Silas raised an eyebrow at me, I continued. “If the curse is as bad as you say it is, and if it’s affecting The Isle, then you could theoretically all just evacuate. New York’s nice this time of year.”
“Would everyone just leave New York because there was a threat?”
I licked my lips. I knew for a fact that wouldn’t happen. New York had been through its share of hard times and threats. We were staying put.
“Still,” I argued half-heartedly. “Moving is better than death.”
“Some islanders would disagree with that,” Silas said. “They will not abandon their home. The Isle was initially created as a safe haven for our kind.”
“Ourkind?”
Silas met my gaze with a firm one of his own. He doubled down. “Ourkind.”
“You mean magical kinds of people.”
“Sure,” he said. “If that’s what you want to call it.”
“What would you call it?”
“We’re crossing the bridge now into The Forest.” Silas nodded ahead. “Very, very few people venture into The Forest by the light of day, let alone the dark of night. It’s not recommended.”
“I thought Irina lived in The Forest.”
“She’s one of very few who call this place their home. Her kind are natural wanderers, sacrificing safety and modern comforts to live in tune with nature. Again—it’s a specific breed, well equipped to live here. Doesn’t mean it’s still not dangerous. Creatures live within its shadows that you could never imagine.”
“Creatures like you?” I asked. “You never did tell me what you are.”
“I’m Silas,” he said, like that was enough.
As if that explained the darkness that loomed around him like a thundercloud, little wisps of black spiraling from him in invisible waves. Like on a scorching day, when tremors of heat visibly radiate through the air so thick they’re palpable—that was Silas.
It wasn’t a bad magic he possessed, but a powerful one. I couldn’t say how I knew this, just that I was confident in my gut feeling.
As our horses’ hooves clop-clopped over the bridge, the air grew still, the sounds around us fading to eerie silence. Silas’s waves of power seemed to grow in direct proportionto the silence, thickening like a thundercloud on the cusp of a summer storm, enveloping him in a protective shield. Tension hovered around us, and I wasn’t sure how much of it was Silas and how much of it was The Forest.
The world ahead of us—the lands on the west side of the bridge—were sheathed in shadow like a villain. As I glanced behind me toward the fading Wisteria Cottage, the airiness of The Isle seemed to be diminishing, as if I were seeing it through the lens of a telescope.
“I’m a Hunter.” Silas’s voice startled me as our horses exited the bridge on the western lands, their hooves padding into the dangerous shadows ahead. “That’s what they call me.”
“Who’s they?” I felt grateful he’d trusted me enough to share this information. It was clear he hadn’t wanted to.
“Our people,” Silas said. “Paranormals.”
