Northwoods Magic (Northwoods Fairy Tales Book 1)

by Desiree Lafawn

  “Because you know what, Quinn? Magic exists, and miracles happen. Bad things and good things, anything is possible. I know that now. So you see, I most certainly will touch you again. I would like nothing more in this world than to touch you right now, but if you want me to put my hands on you again, you are going to have to come to me. I mean it, Quinn. You made it all the way here on your own. You have a power inside you that makes the grass bow at your feet – you are a force of fucking nature. It’s time you act like one. You are not under anyone’s control anymore, Quinn, not the doctors, not the medication, and not me. Figure out what you want, and if that includes me, then you come to me, and you tell me. You let me know that I am worth the struggle and the pain and I am enough because I have done that for you and I deserve the same.”

  He was so close she could feel his breath on her skin. The entire time he had been talking, he had not moved one inch back from when he had come to her and forced her to take the knife. His eyes were dark and dangerous, and she couldn’t keep hers open under his scrutiny. She closed her eyes against the raw emotion she saw there, and when she opened them again, he was walking away from her, shirt pulled tight against his broad shoulders. She had never felt such pain watching someone walk away from her before.

  Quinn heard the door to his cabin shut and realized she was standing alone in his garden, in his private space. Looking to the small green herbs growing in the dirt for any inclination of what her next move should be proved fruitless. They ignored her questioning gaze, her gentle prodding for answers, as their allegiance was to Corbin. Even with sending out little tendrils of power like the old man had shown her, they didn’t respond.

  The silent treatment, huh, she thought to herself. She probably deserved it.

  Corbin did not act like she had thought he would, but maybe that was the problem. All this time, Quinn had been wallowing in depression and feeling sorry for herself, but in reality, she had been driving the bus the entire time. She didn’t know why she thought he would be happy to see her go, Quinn sure as hell wasn’t glad to be doing it. It was very possible that she was overthinking things, but she didn’t know what else to do.

  Corbin was right though; she wasn’t a victim, she was a grown ass woman. It was time to start acting like one.

  Of course he had watched her through the window of his cabin as she had chewed over his words, standing there in his garden. Corbin had used up all of the self-control he had by turning his back on her and walking away. As long as she didn’t know he was doing it, no one was going to stop him from peeking at her through his window. She was still in his yard anyway. It wasn’t peeping if it was your own yard, probably.

  There was nothing in any of his coveted romance books that would explain to him how to handle this particular situation. Corbin was flying blind, and he didn’t like it. A part of his soul died when he forced himself to walk away from her like he had, especially after last night, but this was something she had to overcome on her own. He wasn’t going anywhere; he would wait for her to come to the realization that she needed him as much as he needed her, that no matter what the reason they were drawn together, it was real. It was as real and as tangible as they were themselves. He just hoped it wouldn’t take her as long to come around the second time as it did the first. She was so much stronger than she thought she was. He believed in her ability to come to the right conclusion.

  After making sure an appropriate amount of time had passed so that Quinn would be well on her way back around to her side of the lake, Corbin returned to the garden. Something was soothing about being amongst the tiny plants all standing in their rows. It wasn’t the same as perching amongst the tree limbs and flexing his feathers, but he would take whatever closeness to nature he could get.

  He worked his way up and down the rows, crouched over and pinching off the various leaves and stems that he needed. He would have preferred to cut them, but he had given Quinn his knife in a fit of anger. He didn’t regret it, she would see that knife and remember his resolve. He meant it when he said he would bleed for her; that was the depth of his feelings for her.

  It had been some time since he had stood up, and he did so slowly, stretching his aching back as he rose and almost dropped the container of fresh cut herbs he had been holding. Mara stood a mere handful of feet away from him, hands clasped behind her back, pale blue eyes focused on him while he worked, watching him silently.

  She scared the shit out of him.

  Her eyes and skin were washed out, almost blending in with the white blonde of her hair. She had purple bruising under her eyes, and they looked sunken in slightly. She looked like she needed a damn doctor.

  “Hey Mara, when did you get here? You scared the crap out of me.” When she didn’t answer him, he added gently, “You don’t look so good. You getting enough sleep, Mara? Maybe you should go home and get some rest.”

  He held the container of herbs out to her, but she made no move to take them from him. Instead, she giggled like he had said something hysterical. The giggle grew until it was outright laughter and she threw her head back and cackled. In between laughing breaths, she warbled in a sing-song tone, “To sleep? To dream?” and then returned to giggling.

  She was creeping him the fuck out.

  The sound cut off abruptly, and almost like an afterthought, her head swiveled around until she was looking at Corbin again, “Have you seen, William?” Blinking rapidly, her eyes focused on something further away than either of them, staring into the distance. “He has not been himself lately. I tried to get him to stay home and rest. He is unwell, you know? But he just won’t listen to me anymore” she pouted. “He's not been a very good pet lately, you see.”

  Well, that was also pretty disturbing.

  “You call your brother your pet?” That was some kind of kink that Corbin had no interest in learning about.

  “Oh, that’s right” she shrugged absentmindedly, “my brother. Yes. My brother. Have you seen my brother?” Mara spun around, so fast Corbin didn’t even have time to move before she grabbed his arm with the grip of an arm wrestler. There was something not right with her, but she was strong as fuck and he couldn’t shake her loose. Invisible hands held him immobile just as surely as her ice cold fingers held his arm.

  He felt a numbness then, growing out of the cold, and realized that Mara was more than she appeared. The docile little sheep in front of him housed a big bad wolf, and her disguise was starting to slip, cracking and peeling around the edges. As the cold, empty feeling started spreading from where she touched him, slowly moving up his arm and across his entire body, he managed to stutter out,

  “Wh…what are you?”

  To which she replied, “I’m Mara, the dark giver, the bringer of dreams. I’m Nightmare; now sleep.”

  Then the cold spread to his face and neck, and as it swallowed him up and covered the top of his head, the darkness took him.

  When next he opened his eyes, Corbin saw his own knees, and past his own knees, he saw dusty bare wooden floors. There was an ache in between his shoulders and when he tried to roll them, he realized he couldn’t. The rough coil around his hands and his inability to move told him that he was tied to a chair, and he shook his head back and forth trying the shake the haze in his skull.

  He had no idea how long he had been unconscious or even how Mara had gotten him to wherever the hell he currently was, but as he lifted his head, she scared the shit out of him again by being right in front of him, staring silently. He had the presence of mind not to jump; she looked disappointed that he didn’t.

  She leaned over his lap and put her lips close to his ear. He tried to pull away, but his mobility was limited, and she was really fucking strong. With a vice-like grip on his chin, she forced his face toward her, and with her free hand, caressed his neck and cheek. Forced to look at her under such close conditions, he couldn’t quite mask the fear in his eyes. She smiled at his pain, and her disguise slipped again. Spider web like fissures formed in the s
mooth pale of her skin, spreading out like cracks in a windshield. He was starting to get a look at what was hiding under that facade, and it filled him with terror.

  Her breath was putrid, and her face was so very close. Corbin thought he would vomit from the stink of it, and she seemed to like that reaction from him too. Mara smiled as she whispered right in his face, her fetid breath snaking up his nostrils, searing into his nasal cavities, and making him dizzy.

  “Welcome to my home.”

  Corbin was starting to get an idea of what was going on, but he didn’t want to acknowledge the sight in front of him, the horror was too much to absorb.

  The inside of the cabin was decorated with raven bones of varying sizes. They were hanging from the walls and decorated every available surface. There was even a mobile dangling from the ceiling in the middle of the room, and entire raven skeleton strung together like dinosaur bones displayed in a museum. On a shelf on the wall directly in front of Corbin were two small glass jars; they were full of round black eyes. Raven eyes.

  His chest rose and fell unevenly, and his vision swam in front of him. Do not pass out, do not pass out, do NOT pass out, he told himself firmly. At first glance, he hadn’t been able to tell because the interior of the cabin was so dark, and the raven bones were so white in contrast, but as his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he could see the feathers everywhere. They painted designs on the walls as if someone had glued them there and stuck out of vases like macabre floral arrangements. He was in a horror funhouse, and Mara was the ringmaster of the shitshow.

  “Where did you get all the ravens, Mara?” he breathed out, but he thought he probably already knew the answer.

  Her answering grin split her face impossibly wide. The spider web cracks spread even further, and her eyes glowed pale blue under a white film. Corpse eyes, that’s what they were. Corbin shuddered in revulsion.

  “Did you like my presents?” she squealed like a happy child. “But I have more surprises! More surprises!” Mara clapped her hands and hopped up and down, clearly entertained by her new game.

  Corbin tried to swallow down the lump in his throat and still struggled to get out the words.

  “What happened to William?” and fuck if his voice didn’t break a little when he asked the question. He didn’t want to show her he was afraid, even though he was. He was fucking terrified.

  “William?” Mara snapped. Her previous jovial attitude was instantly replaced by one of visible irritation. “William was a good pet for so long, but he has grown so disobedient!” She stomped her foot on the ground, mid-tantrum. “He needs more discipline, that’s what he needs. Discipline!” Her voice deepened on the last word and grew clotted and thick.

  Corbin didn’t want to know what was making the sound of her voice change like that. He had zero interest in pledging himself as a pet to whatever the hell kind of fucked up nasty Mara claimed to be. Nope, he would rather die.

  “You are going to have to kill me because I won’t do a fucking thing for you,” Corbin bit out. He hesitated to think of what horrors had befallen poor William. The sibling story was clearly a farce. Whatever reason for the lie, poor William had been a pawn as well, and now he was most likely dead. Corbin wondered if William’s eyes were stuck in a jar somewhere too, like the ravens whose carcasses decorated the small space.

  “I’ll never be your pet,” he spat, his words coated in acid. His arms and his back hurt from being tied to a chair. His head throbbed, and his heart ached because he was for sure going to die here. He was going to die here with a batshit crazy nutter and never be able to hold Quinn in his arms again. He was so goddamn pissed.

  Corbin raged violently against his bonds and thumped the chair up and down on the floor, almost upending himself. ‘I’ll never do shit for you!” he screamed into Mara’s face.

  “Oh, you’ll be perfect for what I need, raven” she whispered, completely unruffled by his outburst.

  “You’ll do just fine, just fine. I’ll hang you on the hook, and you’ll dance for me, wormy, you will. Hook me the big fish, the big fish, yes!”

  Mara went into fresh peals of maniacal laughter, and Corbin watched as her lower jaw unhinged like a snake, mouth opening impossibly wide to let out gobs of thick black smoke. Corbin remembered that cloud of smoke, the one that smelled of decay and scorched things.

  He gasped at the stench, and before he could snap his mouth shut, the noxious gas flew into his mouth and up his nose, filling his lungs completely. As the last tendril of inky vapor snaked into him, filling up all the empty spaces and forcing the oxygen out of his body, the lights blinked out in Corbin’s consciousness, both a blessing and a curse.

  Quinn stared down at the contents of her refrigerator, hand over her mouth and heart in her throat. The man had gone to the grocery store for her. He had gotten her necessities when she hadn’t the time to do it herself. He wanted to make sure she was fed. She had seen the loaf of bread on the counter and the other in the cabin freezer. Strange how two loaves of bread could bring tears to her eyes, but it was more than just food. A loaf of bread in the freezer was bread to be saved for when the first loaf ran out. He bought her future bread because he expected her to stay long enough to need it, and she had thrown that right back in his face because of her own guilt.

  She looked down at the petite mousse cups sitting in their clear package in the fridge, the two chocolate lovebirds perched on spun sugar branches. Where did Corbin even get those? They were much too fine to have been purchased at a little pit stop on the mountain, weren’t they? The small birds never moved from their sweet perch, for they had no answers to give. Quinn’s breath caught on a sob; she was such an asshole.

  Barring his initial harsh treatment, which if she was honest with herself, she couldn’t blame him for, he had been nothing but accommodating to her. He had given and given of himself, and she had just taken from him. It would be different, she supposed, if she didn’t feel attracted to him as well, but the bond went both ways. Both ways.

  She had been dreaming of him for ages in some form or another, and now that she was here and had him, she was sabotaging her chance at happiness by pushing him away. By making herself feel like she didn’t deserve him because of what? A technicality? How was being attracted to her because of her power any different than being attracted to someone’s sense of humor or their eyes, for God’s sake?

  She was an absolute idiot.

  He was the epitome of loyalty and entirely devoted to her, even when she wasn’t there. Who cared if their relationship started from what essentially amounted to a magical lure? Who cared? WHO CARED? Maybe that had been how it started, but that wasn’t going to designate their relationship in the future. Quinn didn’t want to leave; she wanted to stay long enough to eat the bread in the freezer and make grocery trips together. She wanted to sleep in the same bed with Corbin, and she for holy shit sure wanted him to touch her again. Her body grew warm at the memory of his touch; Quinn couldn’t go back to a half-life of being cold and alone. She could do better, she deserved better – they both did.

  He had said that she would need to come to him. She would have to swallow her pride and nervousness and reach out to him to show that she was willing to meet halfway. To hell with halfway, she would go all the way. She needed to know more about Corbin. While she was pretty sure she was going to enjoy getting to know more about his body, she wanted to know his likes and dislikes, his favorite food, and favorite color. She wanted to know everything.

  She needed help.

  Quinn didn’t have Rose’s phone number, but she bet she could catch her up at the lodge. As soon as Quinn had the thought in her head, she was off like a shot, flip flops slapping on the packed dirt path as she raced up the hill to the Happ House main building.

  She was so wrapped up in her tunnel vision that she almost didn’t even see it. The truth was if it had been a snake in the path, it would have bitten her, but it wasn’t a snake. No, the crumpled pile of clothes and matted blood and h
air on the ground was William, and when she made the realization, she let loose a scream to shake the heavens.

  The cry brought two bodies running to the rescue. Both Rose and Miss Benny came flying down the lodge steps and skidded to a halt beside her. Still, Quinn screamed. She screamed until no more sound came out of her mouth and still the force came up from her diaphragm and out from her throat, her lips stretched wide, unable to cease the motions even though she was silent. Every muscle in her body was pulled tight, fight or flight begging her to run, to get away, to just do something. It was Miss Benny’s gentle hands on her shoulders that brought her back to calm, that made her fists unclench, her throat relax, and the tension mostly leave her back.

  That was William down there. He was a mess and most probably not living, and there was no real way know what had happened to him because the dead don’t talk. At least, not as far as Quinn knew, and the body in front of her most certainly did not look alive.

  As if to call her a liar even in his broken state, the crumpled, blood crusted body on the ground stirred, and everyone took a huge step back.

  Miss Benny regained her composure first. “Oh, William” she cried, “What happened to you?” The older woman’s voice was choked with tears, but as she stepped forward, hand out to touch him, William shook his head and put his own hands out to ward her off. He was dirty, unfit, unclean.

  Rose said nothing, but Quinn could hear her ragged breaths as she tried to calm herself down. Everyone was worked up; everyone was appalled at the state of the man whom Quinn had practically launched over on the way to the lodge. He had looked like he had keeled over on his way in as well. What had he been coming here for, and how had he gotten this far in his condition?