by Lila Kane
He puts his arm around Myra’s waist and she smiles up at him.
“We should get started,” I say. I don’t want to see Myra sick for any longer than necessary. “I can start looking in the Book of Shadows for a spell and maybe‒”
“Willow.” Logan’s voice is firm. “Not now. You should take it easy. Do you know what happened back in the house?”
“I saw Selena. She was there‒and she didn’t look like a ghost this time. And then I had a dream about her and Lawrence‒”
“My great-great grandfather,” Logan says. He rubs a hand on his jaw, thoughtful. “She’s part of the reason the curse was so drastic. She was angry with him.”
“I know, I could feel it.” I look away. “She was in love with him.”
Myra gestures to the door. “I can make some sandwiches for lunch. Then we can talk.”
“I should really go. Try to figure this out,” I say.
Logan gives his head a curt shake. “You should eat. Make sure you’re feeling up to more. Sandwiches sound good, Myra.”
She walks from the room and Logan steps closer to me. To my surprise, his lips curve into a wicked smile. “Look at us. Standing in my bedroom again. And of your own free will, I might add. The door is wide open and you’re not running.”
“I’m just making sure I don’t pass out again. Then running might be my best bet.”
He doesn’t smile at the joke. Instead, he takes my hand. I don’t even think to pull away. His eyes are compassionate and there’s a frown on his lips. “Tell me what happened.”
“I did. I saw Selena.”
“You were upset, Willow. I think…” He brushes his fingertips on my cheek, making me shiver. “I think something is going on. Something you’re not telling me.”
The flames flicker inside. But this time it’s because of Selena. I can feel her focus, her determination. She’s drawn to Logan the same way she was drawn to Lawrence. But I’m not sure if it’s because she loves him or because she hates him.
The thought makes me step back. Anger, hot and red, flashes behind my eyes. Selena’s anger. She wants to hurt Logan.
“What is it?” he asks.
“Nothing.”
“Willow.” He creeps closer again, and his eyes meet mine. They start to darken. “You can trust me.”
No, you can’t trust him. Hurt him. Make him bleed.
Logan reaches out, hands hovering close to my shoulders. I gasp and shove him away, darting for the door.
“Willow,” Logan says, surprised.
He catches me from behind, his arm looped around my waist. He turns me around, but I refuse to look into his eyes.
“No, Logan, please don’t. I don’t want to hurt you‒”
“Hurt me? Is that why you’re running away?”
Kill him. He doesn’t deserve to live.
I pull against his grip. “Please, I need to go.”
“Willow, look at me.”
“No‒”
“Please. I’ll let you go. I’ll let you leave if that’s what you really want.”
He’s lying. Don’t believe him.
I press my hands over my face. “Stop. Stop.”
“Stop what?”
My breath catches. “I want her to leave me alone.”
Logan draws me close, enough that I can smell cologne and the scent of pine trees and the outdoors. His breathing is steady beneath my cheek, heartbeat strong. I can’t hurt him, not that easily. But Selena wants me to try.
He’s rubbing his hand down my back and murmuring something soothing. Selena keeps whispering words in my mind. But this time, they’re not about hurting Logan. She wants me to get him to trust me.
He pulls my hands from my face and cups my cheeks between his. “Let me help you,” he says.
I nod.
Trick him…make him trust you.
Logan’s eyes dip to my lips. “Willow…”
My mouth parts and he moves in. His hand tangles in the back of my hair and his lips meet mine. His breath is warm, tongue seeking mine as he lowers his other hand to my back, pulling me close against him.
Yes, Willow, make him think you’re on his side.
I make a noise of disagreement, but Logan mistakes it for pleasure. He slides his hand under my shirt in the back, fingers tracing my spine and making me shiver. I press closer and wrap my hands around his neck. Part of me wants to get lost in his kiss and try to tune out Selena’s words, but the other part is wary she won’t leave me alone. That something bad might happen.
Logan turns me so the backs of my thighs are against the bed. “Please don’t stab me with anything,” he murmurs.
I choke on a laugh. I’ve done it before. It had nothing to do with Selena that time. I just needed to escape. I tricked him that time, but not because I wanted to kill him.
Trick him this time, too, Selena says. And then you can stab him with something that will hurt a lot worse.
I straighten in Logan’s arms. “No,” I whisper.
His lips make a trail of fire down my neck. “What?” he asks quietly between kisses.
Make him bleed.
“No,” I say again. I jerk away from him, my breath hitching. “Logan‒I can’t. This is‒”
His eyes are cloudy when he meets mine. “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head. “I don’t‒I mean, I shouldn’t do this. It’s not‒”
How do I explain this? That being close to him is like being cut in half. One part of me wants that nearness, craves it, and the other part‒the part Selena has control over‒wants to destroy him.
I point at him. “Maybe it’s better if I keep my distance. I don’t want anything to happen.”
“What do you think is going to happen?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing. “Willow, I don’t understand.”
“Good.” I nod and start toward the door. “It’s better that way. You just‒you stay here‒and I’ll get my books and go. It’s better that way.”
He moves toward the door at the same time I do. “Willow.”
I hold out my hand. “You said I could go. I’m not a prisoner here‒”
“You’re not.”
“Then let me go, Logan. Please. I have to‒” I exhale, closing my eyes briefly. I have to leave before Selena makes me do something. “Please.”
He makes a wide path around me, looking torn. “You’re not stuck here. You can leave if that’s what you want. But‒”
“That’s what I want.”
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Come on. I’ll get the books for you.”
“I’ll meet you at the front door.”
He frowns, but nods. “The front door.”
He disappears from the room and I put my hands over my face. “Selena, you can’t do this. Logan isn’t Lawrence.”
They’re all the same. They all deserve to die.
In my mind, I see a knife and blood and death. I choke on a sob and hurry out of the room. I race down the stairs and almost run into Myra.
“Whoa‒Willow. What’s wrong?”
My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. I shake my head and walk to the door, folding my arms and focusing on my shoes. Trying to shut off my brain.
“I need to go,” I tell her. “I’m tired. It was a long day.”
“Where’s Logan?” I hear concern in her voice, but I won’t look up.
“Getting the books for me.”
She’s silent so long, I finally lift my gaze.
“You’re a difficult one to figure out, Willow.”
I frown. “Why are you trying to figure me out?”
She folds her arms and leans against the post by the stairs. “You’re part of our lives now. Logan talks about you. This isn’t normal.”
I shift from one foot to the other, trying to decide whether or not I’m offended. “Sorry to change the norm on you. This whole scenario wasn’t exactly in my plans either.”
“Something’s haunting you,” she says.
My eyes
lock with hers. Yes. My past is haunting me. Selena is haunting me. And now her words are, too.
Logan strolls into the hallway, both Books of Shadows in his hands. I reach for them, but he doesn’t pass them over.
“Stay for lunch,” he says. “We can talk.”
I shake my head. “It’s not a good idea.”
“Please, Willow. I want to help.”
Myra’s eyes shift to him and she angles her head like she’s surprised by his words.
I swallow the response I want to give. Yes, I’ll stay. Yes, please help me. I don’t know what’s going on. But it’s safer to leave and try to figure this out away from Logan and hopefully away from Selena’s voice in my head.
I pull the books from his hands, trying to distract him. “I’ll start researching spells and practicing more. I’ll let you know what I come up with soon. I promise.”
Then I turn and grab the door. It’s locked. I look over my shoulder at Logan, trying not to panic. He gives me a small smile and reaches past me to undo the lock. He opens the door and starts to follow me out.
“No, please,” I say, “just stay in there. Don’t say anything else. I‒”
“You can’t go.”
My heart races. “But‒”
“I mean, you don’t have a car. I drove, remember?”
“Oh.” I swallow irrational worry. “Right.”
“I’ll drive you.”
I don’t have a choice. I get in his car, clutching the books close to my chest and staring out the window the entire way. Logan tries to talk to me twice, but I shake my head both times and keep my distance.
When we get to my house, I hop out quickly, leaving Logan inside looking bewildered. I try not to look back as I race up the porch steps and yank open the front door before locking myself inside.
Chapter 8
Diving into work is my way of coping. I pretend I’m on a deadline, which I did promise my editor I’d get a rough outline over by next week, so I need complete silence.
I turned off my phone after lunch and started looking on-line. There’s enough history of Shadow Hill and its supposedly haunted hotel to get me started. I have to remember to stick to the facts for the story. I don’t want witches or vampires or any other paranormal people flocking to Shadow Hill to check it out. If they do, they might get stuck here like me.
So I stick all the facts on the hotel in one category and make two others I still need to research. One is how to stop the spell completely‒or put things back to how they were before I came to town. That way the vampires and werewolves, even us witches, lose the extra power brought on by the first stage of reversing the curse. That way Ryan can go back to normal and not turn into an animal anytime he hears or sees one.
My other and more pressing task is to find a way to help Myra. I’m going to need my Book of Shadows for that. I’m probably going to need my mom for that, too, but I’m not ready to go there yet.
I don’t resurface until the sun is on the other side of the house and dipping toward the horizon. Rain starts pattering on the roof and windows and I lean back from the computer to stretch my arms high above my head.
When I stand, I grab my phone and turn it on again. I wander to the living room before checking to see I’ve missed two phone calls and three text messages. How did I get so popular? I haven’t been in Shadow Hill that long.
I guess time-sensitive curses really fill up a person’s schedule.
Another text comes in and I sigh. I don’t even pay attention to the number, just click the envelope icon and read.
Kill him.
My heart spasms. I glance around, afraid I’m not alone, and then return my eyes to the phone. But the text is gone. My breathing is uneven.
I scroll through the rest of the texts I’ve received, but they’re all normal. Two from Cheyenne to check in on me. Even one from Logan asking how I’m doing. But nothing out of the ordinary.
A knock on the front door makes me scream. I whip around, slapping a hand to my chest.
“Willow?” Ryan asks.
I walk to the door, heart still racing, and let him in.
His gaze sweeps the room as he grabs my arm. “What happened? Is someone else here?”
“No. You scared me. I’m jumpy today‒” I break off, narrowing my eyes at him. “When did you…you know…turn back into Ryan?”
A muscle clenches in his jaw. “A few hours ago.”
I take his hand. “I wish you would talk to me about this.”
“We already had this conversation, Willow. Drop it.”
“I don’t want to.”
His eyes whip back to mine, danger flashing in their depths. “Willow, I’m not in the mood to go there right now.”
I fold my arms, my phone still clenched tightly in my hand. “You’re never in the mood to go there.”
“Willow.”
“Ryan,” I echo, frowning. I’m in the mood for a fight. I want to yell at someone and I’m not sure why. It’s not Ryan’s fault Selena’s doing this, but he’s here right now and he won’t talk to me again. He won’t open up about shifting and it’s driving me crazy.
“Is this about what happened this morning?” Ryan asks. When I don’t answer right away, he walks to the couch and drops to the closest cushion. There are shadows under his eyes and weariness in his movements.
Part of me wants to walk over and massage his tired muscles and tell him to close his eyes. To go to sleep. The other part of me wants to demand he open up or he might as well leave. We’re both going through things right now and keeping them secret and hidden isn’t helping.
“You were following me.” I stand on the other side of the coffee table and watch as he closes his eyes and leans his head back on the cushion.
“You were with Logan. I wanted to make sure you were okay. He’s not exactly the most predictable person in case you’ve forgotten.”
“I remember what he’s done very well, thanks. I also know the reason why and I’m not going to keep putting him down about it.”
“It’s called using your head.” Ryan sighs but doesn’t open his eyes. “If he’d been operating under any sense of logic at all, he would’ve come up with a better plan than kidnapping. And threatening you.”
I grind my teeth. “At least he’s trying to help now. At least he’s open to talking and telling me what’s going on.”
His eyes open. I see the movement in his throat when he swallows. “He likes you, Willow. He’s trying to…”
“What?” I lift my eyebrows when he shakes his head. “I don’t think that has anything to do with the bigger picture here.”
“Neither does my shifting. What happened at the house today? It looked like you passed out.”
“I guess…I don’t want to talk about it.”
He rubs a hand over his eyes before he stands. “Yeah, I guess I deserve that. Look, I want to be here for you. It’s my job to help make sure you’re safe.”
“You are here for me. You’re renting me this house, you’re checking in to see how I am. Hey‒you’re even following me around when I’m with other people. I think you’ve got it covered.”
He walks around the coffee table, but doesn’t reach for me. Instead he shoves his hands in his pockets. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
What does he mean? A relationship? Or at least a continuation of whatever it was we started?
Before I can answer, he says, “It’s Logan, isn’t it?”
“What about Logan?”
“There’s something going on between you two.”
I don’t deny it because he’s right. There is something. I don’t know what it is, but something is there. And he listens to me, and lets me be who I am and maybe…that’s something I haven’t had in my life for a long time.
“I like you, Willow,” Ryan says. This time he reaches out, curls his fingers around mine. “I want to spend time with you. I…” He clears his throat. “I understand if you’ve got a thing for Logan, but he hasn
’t really been the best guy for you to be around. I’m steady‒and also not a vampire, so I should get points for that.”
I can’t help my low laugh and it makes him smile. “I think I need a little space. To figure out what’s going on. To figure out where I fit here. And I need to help Myra.”
He dips his chin in a half-nod. “Right. Well, I’m here. And I want to help. So, let me know what you need.”
I nod. “You should get home, get some rest.”
“Yeah.” He scrubs his hand across his eyes again. He brushes his lips on my cheek before heading for the door. “Bye, Willow.”
“Bye.”
Once he’s gone, I call Cheyenne.
“Hey, sexy,” she says. “You totally disappeared. What’s up?”
I laugh, feeling better already at her joking tone. “I have too much testosterone in my life. I need a girl’s night.”
“I’m all over that. Stay in or go out?”
I consider this, thinking of the quietness of my house and how Selena can reach me easier that way. “Out,” I tell her. “I want to get dressed up.”
“Come to my place. I’ve got wardrobe and makeup covered.”
“I know you said you have too much testosterone in your life,” Cheyenne says, “but I think you might be inviting more looking like that.”
We arrive at Riverside Bar, wearing tight dresses and expertly done makeup and hair. Cheyenne’s doing, of course.
“You made me look like this,” I tell her, scanning my outfit all the way down to the heels, which are the only thing on my body that’s actually mine. The royal blue dress is skin tight, shadow shimmering at my eyes, and lips full and red.
“Come on, you feel great, don’t you?”
“Actually, I do.” I smile at her as we walk into the bar. “You get so busy fighting evil, it’s hard to remember we’re still young.”
“And hot.”
I look to a table in the corner and my smile fades. “And stalked.”
She follows my gaze and lifts her eyebrows when she sees Logan at a cozy, candlelit table with Myra, who’s looking dressed up herself. And like she’s feeling well.
“Do you want to go somewhere else?” Cheyenne asks.
“No,” I grumble. “Technically they were here first.”
