My breathing slows deliberately, my pulse picking up in a steady, controlled rhythm that has nothing to do with panic and everything to do with the certainty that something is very, very wrong.
Someone has definitely been inside. The energy feels different, disturbed, like ripples on a still pond.
I do not move to enter right away, instead taking my time to study what I can see through the gap in the doorway. The interior looks shadowy but undisturbed from this angle, merchandise still in place on the visible shelves.
I do not call out. Whoever was here is long gone. The silence that greets us is too complete, too empty for anyone to still be lurking inside.
“I know someone didn’t just break in,” I murmur under my breath, more to myself than to Sir, though his ears swivel toward me attentively.
Before I can decide my next move or analyze the situation further, a loud horn honks frantically behind us, followed by the screech of tires moving far too fast down Main Street. The sound makes me whip around in alarm, my heart jumping into my throat.
A sedan skids to a halt directly in front of the Welcome to Ruby Springs sign, leaving dark skid marks burned into the asphalt like accusations. The car rocks on its suspension from the abrupt stop.
A man jumps out of the driver’s side, eyes wide and panicked as he looks around the town like he’s just stepped into a nightmare made real. He’s middle-aged, wearing a rumpled business suit, his hair disheveled and his face pale with shock.
“Malcolm! What the hell happened to the road?” A woman shouts as she practically falls out of the passenger side, her voice high with hysteria. She spins in a circle, taking in Ruby Springs with the frantic energy of someone who’s just realized they’re completely lost. “Where are we?”
The sound of Maceo’s truck engine roars to life somewhere in the distance, followed by the screech of tires as he barrels back down the road toward us. All around Main Street, townspeople begin rushing out of shops and spilling from Bea’s diner, their faces tight with concern and recognition. I spare a quick glance through the doorway once more, but there’s no time to make sense of it.
The morning that had started with such promise suddenly feels like a distant memory. I should have known the peace wouldn’t last.
The wards have failed again and it’s revealed our secret.
Chapter
Twenty
ALL EYES ON ME
The moment I step into the Cackling Hen, the noise hits me like a physical force, a wall of sound that seems to vibrate through my bones. With Sir padding silently on my heels, his fur bristling with tension, I melt into the background, pressing myself against the corner of the café where the worn wooden walls meet in shadows that offer little comfort but at least keep me out of the immediate line of sight from most of the crowd.
Voices overlap in a tangled rush of panic and confusion, each word bleeding into the next until they form one continuous stream of distress. Chairs scrape loudly against the weathered wooden floors, their legs catching on the uneven planks. The usually warm, earthy calm of the café, feels stretched thin beneath the weight of it all. The familiar scent of coffee and fresh pastries lingers stubbornly in the air, Lin’s morning batch of scones and Toni’s famous cinnamon rolls still warm in the display case, but their comforting sweetness does nothing to soften the sharp edge of fear that has fallen over the room like a suffocating blanket.
At the center of it all, surrounded by a loose circle of concerned townspeople, sits a couple who clearly do not belong here.
The man stands halfway out of his chair, his expensive-looking button-down wrinkled and his tie hanging loose at his collar like he’s been tugging at it in distress. His hand braces against the small round table, as though he needs the support to stay upright. His dark hair, probably perfectly styled this morning, now sticks up at odd angles from running his fingers through it, and his eyes hold a kind of disbelief that borders on terror.
The woman beside him grips his arm so tightly her knuckles have gone bone-white against his sleeve, her perfectly manicured nails digging into the fabric. Her breath comes in short, uneven bursts.
“We were just driving,” the man says, his voice cracking as he looks from one face to another, searching for something, anything, that makes sense in a world that has suddenly tilted sideways. “We were on the highway. Route 2, heading west. There was nothing there. The map is clear, I checked it three times this morning. I’ve driven this stretch of road countless times for work. There’s no town, no turn, nothing here, damn it. I’m not crazy.” His voice rises on the last words, almost pleading. “All of a sudden this place just. . .appeared.”
“We almost crashed,” the woman adds, her voice rising to match his panic as she clutches his arm even harder, but the man doesn’t even flinch at what must be painful pressure. “One second we were on open road and there was this flicker of light, the next we were surrounded by buildings that shouldn’t exist. Cottages and streetlamps and people walking around like this is perfectly normal. Where are we? This place should not exist. It’s not on any map. It’s not anywhere.”
Lin kneels beside the woman’s chair, her flowing rainbow skirt pooling around her as she settles onto the floor. One weathered hand wraps gently around the woman’s trembling fingers, her voice dropping into that soft, steady tone that usually calms even the most rattled nerves.
“You’re safe now,” Lin says. “What you’ve experienced is quite traumatic, and I can only imagine how disorienting this must be. But I assure you we can get this all cleared up and you can both be on your way home safely. There’s always a solution to these things.”
Toni weaves through the crowd of worried townspeople with practiced efficiency. She sets a tray of mugs down in front of the couple without asking what they want, the rich scent of her strongest blend, curling upward in delicate spirals. The vines she’s encouraged to grow along the exposed ceiling beams shift subtly overhead, their leaves rustling in a way that has nothing to do with any breeze, responding to the thick tension that has settled in the air like fog.
The couple notice the movement immediately, their heads snapping upward in unison, and both shriek in surprise and disbelief, the woman’s hand flying to her mouth.
“What. . .what. . . did you see that, Marvin?” the woman asks, her voice shaking as she pries her white-knuckled hands from his arm to point at the gently swaying greenery. “Those plants just moved. On their own. There’s no wind in here.”
Toni tsks under her breath, shooting an exasperated look at the ceiling as if the vines are misbehaving children. “Pay no mind to the plants, loves, or they may do more than just sway at your aggravation. They’re a bit sensitive to strong emotions, that’s all.”
“You’re not helping, Toni,” Lin hisses through gritted teeth, her usual serenity cracking slightly as frustration bleeds into her voice. With a roll of her eyes, she takes the mugs from the tray,offering them to the couple who immediately shy away like the ceramic might burn them.
Near the table, Maceo stands with his arms crossed over his broad chest, his presence solid and unyielding like a mountain weathering a storm. One hand rests against the back of an empty chair as he watches the couple with the careful focus of someone trying to assess a potentially dangerous situation.
