“You want to tell me what the hell you’re doing out here?” he asked in a low voice that made me shiver both from attraction and uncertainty about my own survival.
“You look warm. Would you like to sit down?” I asked. My voice only squeaked a little.
His eyes narrowed and I decided not to comment again on his appearance. Or how it was possible for him to talk so clearly through closed teeth.
“I’m not fucking around, Knight. Start talking.”
I yanked my wrist free, shooting him a glare for good measure, but then my shoulders sagged and I looked away as I said, “I’m here to find the Obupa Forest.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Why do you think?” I said, my voice rising.
He didn’t answer, and finally, I dragged my guilty gaze up to his. “I need answers, Alex. I can’t live like this—knowing I have this power inside me and not being able to use it is killing me.” I winced at my own word choice but it was too late to take it back.
Alex barely flinched. “How do you even know where to look?” he asked and I relaxed at how much calmer he sounded. Like he might actually not kill me after all.
“My friend Harold—”
“Yes, I know about him. RJ tracked him down. What I mean is that all he told you was where to enter the trail from the road. How did you know to get this far? To find the western gate?”
My jaw fell open. “The … Did I find it?” I asked, craning my neck as I looked around wildly for some clue that I’d passed from an earthly forest into a magical one.
But other than the creep-factor, thanks to the dampened sunlight, there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.
Alex shook his head. He was still breathing heavily, still sweating, and he still looked exhausted—but he wasn’t shooting daggers with his eyes. That was something, at least. “Sam, the entry point is just ahead. You didn’t know?” I shook my head. “You really just ended up here by accident?”
I shrugged. “Intuition?”
He took a deep breath and then looked into the trees, studying the thicket that lay ahead. “Sushna is dangerous,” he said.
“How do you know?” I asked.
“She’s tricky too. If we go in there, you would have to do exactly as I say and exactly when I say it.”
“Okay, but how—”
“Do you have something for her? A gift of some kind?” he asked.
“I didn’t know I was supposed to bring a gift.” I bit my lip and then brightened when I remembered. “Wait. Yes, Harold gave me this.” I showed him the stone wrapped inside my pocket.
“Epidote?” he asked. I nodded. “That could work. If she doesn’t have it already.”
“Harold seemed to think it was right,” I said.
I waited while he seemed to wrestle with himself, watching the quick rise and fall of his chest. “I don’t want to keep you from your magic,” he said. “I’m sorry you think I was trying to sabotage you.”
“Thanks. I’m sorry too.”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Sam. I… I haven’t been honest with you.” He pressed his lips together hard enough to make a frown and then sighed. “My mother could do magic, too.”
My mouth fell open. Out of all the things he could have said, this was not what I’d expected. “She was a hunter, though, right?” I asked, trying to recall the little bit he’d told me about them.
“Yes. But her magic was in her blood. Her family was gifted and it was strong.” He faced me and leveled a hard gaze at me. “She had old magic, Sam.”
“Wow. I didn’t… I mean, I had no idea.”
“I’ve never told anyone. My father made us keep it a secret because he could see… he could see what it did to her.”
“What did it do to her?” My brows knitted as I tried to understand—and then with a jolt of clarity I knew. “The price.”
He nodded grimly. “The magic ate at her. The more she did, the worse it got. I don’t want to see that happen to you and more than that, I refuse to be the reason why.”
“Alex.” I stopped.
What could I say? He didn’t have to explain for me to know that this was what held him back. He’d obviously been carrying this burden for a long time. I could try to explain what Tara had told me. That it was worse to hold the magic back, but what good would it do?
One look at his hardened expression and I knew it would be like talking to a wall. “Thank you for telling me about her,” I said quietly. I wanted to reach for him but I held back, noting the rigid way he stood.
And here I’d thought we’d come so far together. That being together the way we had, sharing our bodies, that he’d opened up and begun to trust me. But no. He was still carrying around the same stubborn determination to keep me from using my magic on him. Maybe on anyone. I tried not to let it hurt my feelings.
Finally, he sighed. “All right then. We’ll go.”
“Thank you, Alex. I want you to know how much this means to me. How much you mean—”
“We’ll talk about it later. And we’ll also talk about how to not leave such an obvious trail.” He rolled his eyes, lightening the heaviness between us. “You were the easiest thing I’ve ever tracked.”
I tried not to be hurt by that either, because, really, he wasn’t wrong. I had no training or even innate skill when it came to being stealthy. And I liked that he’d said “later” and “we” in the same sentence.
“Sure, that would be great,” I said, forcing a smile.
His eyes flashed again; clearly, my running off wasn’t going to be that easy to forget. “I mean it, Sam. Once we get in there, you cannot decide your quest for knowledge is more important than listening to me. Most of Sushna’s visitors don’t return.”
I sucked in a breath as I finally realized how he knew so much about her. “You’ve been to see her before,” I said.
He hesitated but in the end, he nodded. “Once.”
I studied him but his expression was unreadable. “Will you tell me what happened?”
He glanced up into the shadowy treetops and took my elbow, abruptly leading me from where we stood. “Afterward,” he said simply.
This close, I could hear him wheezing softly every time he inhaled. He was getting worse. I decided not to push it.
“Thank you,” I said instead.
He didn’t answer and together, we made our way off the path and into the thicker brush. Whatever had made him change his mind about helping me would have to wait, I decided. For now, we needed to get in and get out—and then I could find a way to save the guy who kept saving me.
The forest was thick here, and the air smelled moldy and damp. I yanked my jacket more tightly around me and folded my arms as I ducked underneath a low-hanging branch. The sounds had returned as Alex and I had made our way along. The birds were back but their songs were lower-pitched—in a different key than any bird I’d heard before. Alex kept glancing up as if he expected one of them to swoop down at us any moment. My footsteps sounded louder against the stillness. Even the air felt colder.
Behind me, Alex’s boots trudged out a steady rhythm that was comforting. Or maybe it just felt good to know I wasn’t out here alone. Because it was lonely here in the overgrown corners of what felt like a forgotten forest. And I had the distinct sense that whoever guarded this stretch of wood wanted it that way.
Lower and lower, we descended slowly, picking our way over gnarled tree roots that rose so big and thick, they blocked our path. I put a hand out to steady myself around the largest one, and paused when I realized I could taste the moss in my mouth when I touched it. I turned back to ask Alex about it but then I changed my mind.
His wheezes were louder now. His steps slower.
I slowed our pace again, for his sake, but I didn’t stop or ask him if he was okay. The truth was that he wasn’t okay. And until Sushna gave me some answers, there wasn’t shit I could do about it. I didn’t even touch him for fear I’d accidentally shoot him with whatever
I’d sent Mason and make him worse.
With my heart aching, I made my way around the root and kept going.
I slowed when I spotted what looked like an embankment rising high above us. To my left, a stream cut through the path, effectively offering a dead end.
“Now what?” I asked.
Alex came up behind me and the heat from his body emanated far enough that I knew he had a fever. My heart ached for his stubborn silence. Despite the fact that we were still mad at each other, I slipped my hand into his. He let me. “We go this way,” he said, point toward the right.
I frowned. “That’s a dead end.”
“No.” He sighed, resigned and clearly not happy about proving me wrong. “It’s not. Come on.”
I moved aside to let him take the lead, noting with revulsion that he carried a spear gun. I hadn’t even seen him draw the weapon and hated to imagine him having to use it.
The way his shoulders drooped, he didn’t even seem strong enough to lift it right now.
My heart ached again and fear pulsed through me in adrenaline-filled waves. I couldn’t breathe as I thought about what could happen to him at any moment—and me, helpless to stop it. I hurried to catch up and slid my hand into his. Despite the risks, I tried calling up the same feeling of healing I’d managed earlier in our shared hospital bed—the sensations that had felt right before they’d gone wrong with Mason and RJ.
I concentrated on giving him white light—the same light I’d seen when my memory had returned weeks ago. A spurt of heat shot into my hands and chest, but it waned quickly. When it was gone, I felt exhausted and Alex stopped walking, studying me with a frown.
“Whatever you’re doing, don’t,” he said. But despite his irritation, he did look mildly better. I opened my mouth to tell him that, but he stopped me. “It’s not about the healing,” he said. “Magic out here is too risky. She will feel it.”
“Is that bad?” I asked even though his tone made it clear it wasn’t good.
“It’s … not the best way to announce our presence,” he muttered.
I bit my lip and looked around but saw nothing beyond the rich green moss coating the ground and half of the tree trunks we passed. We were alone.
For now.
“Come on,” he said again and we resumed our trek toward what looked like a moss-covered dead end against the embankment. A tree had fallen and its roots lay exposed in a gnarled web. Alex made his way toward it but I hung back, caught up in the beauty of its death giving life to the grass and moss and mushrooms that grew along its trunk.
Up ahead, Alex ducked and twisted sideways, disappearing right before my eyes, and I stopped short in surprise.
“What the—?” I began. Where had he gone?
“I’m here,” he said, his head popping back into view.
I leaned in and saw that there was, in fact, a small opening between the hillside and the upended tree. Alex held out his hand and I took it, letting him lead me through the small space.
On the other side, I straightened, eyes wide as I scanned the forest.
“It looks the same as it did before, but it feels so different,” I said in a low voice, and even though it sounded absurd, Alex nodded in agreement.
“Let’s keep moving,” he said, his eyes also scanning but he looked much more on edge than he had before. He took my hand and, instead of single file, we walked side by side.
Everywhere, I looked it was green. Grass. Moss. Leaves. Even the sunlight felt green or maybe it was a taste in my mouth. I wasn’t sure. The trees were evenly spaced and while there wasn’t a path to speak of, there was plenty of room to stay together. I was glad. Even though it looked like the same forest—sunshine filtering in overhead through the treetops, birds singing albeit mournfully—it felt off.
Heavier.
Busy. Like it was breathing.
I didn’t really know what “it” was, exactly, but I also didn’t want to keep it waiting too long. Alex hurried forward and I stayed right next to him as we wound our way farther in. Within minutes, I was lost and desperately glad that Alex seemed to know where we were going. I just hoped he also knew how to get back when we were done.
“We’re here.” Alex’s words were unexpected, and I stopped only because he had. Slowly, I looked around for some indication of where “here” was but there was nothing. Only more trees, their trunks covered in moss. And a soft coating of the same on the forest floor.
“Is this the Obupa?” I asked.
“Sshh. Don’t talk,” he said quickly, an ear cocked upward as he listened to something that evidently I couldn’t hear. “If it wants to see us, it will come.”
It? Weren’t we looking for a “she?” Breathless, and a little unsure of the plan for the first time, I waited.
A moment later, I heard it: the faintest of whimpers that slowly became a wail. Louder and louder until the wind kicked up and the wail became a howl, tossing leaves and pine needles against my skin like tiny pin-pricks. I clung to Alex’s hand, heart galloping against my chest, my breath coming in short bursts.
I had only ever seen the wind do something so magical when I’d attempted to heal Mason. And that hadn’t ended well.
“I’m not the one doing this,” I yelled.
“I know,” Alex yelled back.
For some reason, the fact that he seemed to know and understand whatever was happening made me more anxious.
I tightened my grip on his hand and watched as the wind retracted and seemed to concentrate itself against the copse of trees on my right. My hair fell flat against my shoulders as the gusts suddenly vanished from where we stood. Across the way, the leaves danced and twirled and I had a sudden thought that if fairies were real, this is exactly the sort of place they’d live. In these woods. And they wouldn’t necessarily be friendly to visitors.
The air itself seemed to bite into my skin and land bitterly on my tongue. Out of pure instinct, I took a step back and rather than coax me to stay, Alex tucked me in behind him, still gripping my hand in one of his. In the other, he held the spear gun loosely at his side.
A figure appeared in the middle of the tiny cyclone. I blinked hard, trying to make out the details, but it was only a murky outline. Muddy, brown, and blurred at the edges. If it was a person, it was malformed and hunched over.
“What is that?” I whispered against Alex’s ear.
Even as I asked the question, the wind died and I saw that I’d been right. It was a person—and then again, maybe it wasn’t. Mud coated its skin. Decaying leaves and dirt covered every inch of flesh and a head of matted hair hung limp from a face that wasn’t male or female. Or maybe it was too dirty to tell. So, Alex had it right: “it.”
The eyes glared at us and it took a step, then another, shuffling closer and closer.
Alex didn’t move.
My heart thudded wildly and I tugged on Alex, completely ready to forgo the entire thing and leave. It wasn’t even the appearance of the … thing coming toward us so much as the feeling it gave off. Like the polarized end of a magnet, I wanted to retreat as it approached.
But Alex planted his feet and remained.
“I know you,” it said. The voice was female although creaky—like it hadn’t been used in a long time. “You have grown since last we met.”
I gasped as I realized it was speaking to Alex.
“You have as well,” Alex said and his tone made it clear he wasn’t thrilled about it. In fact, he sounded a little more pissed than I thought might be good for us. “You’ve outgrown your own community. I hear your name from the mouths of my own kind now.”
The creature shrugged and some mud fell from its shoulder. It stopped several feet from where we stood and even this close, the only thing I could make out clearly were its eyes—sharp and roaming, its dark orbs seemed to see everything and still it remained unsatisfied by it all. Until they settled on me. At once, a sharp focus and interest settled on its features.
“What have you brought me?”
it asked, cocking its head as it studied me.
Alex tensed. “She wishes to ask you about magic,” he said. “But she is not yours to keep.”
“So you say,” it said, clucking a tongue that I couldn’t see for all the dirt and mud caked on its mouth. “Come.”
It turned and walked into the brush. Alex followed, tugging me along. I went reluctantly, keeping close to his back—full of questions and reservations. How did this thing know Alex? When had they met? And why hadn’t he told me about it before?
We ended up in a sort of hovel that apparently doubled as a home for the creature. A low overhang of thick burrs and leaves that was more stacked than woven offered a rooftop covering that managed to blot out what little sunlight made it in through the thick canopy overhead. Even the birds had gone silent and if I thought it had felt lonely before, it was downright desolate here. Except for the presence of the creature—whom I suspected was responsible for the feelings pressing down upon me now.
“You have the yin inside you,” it said, its dark eyes fastened once again on me. Alex motioned for me to sit and I did, not bothering to scoot even an inch closer than the space allowed for. Beside me, Alex crouched but didn’t sit.
I shot him a glance and when he nodded, I looked back at the creature.
“I have magic inside me,” I said uncertainly. It didn’t answer except to continue to watch me and although I couldn’t be sure through the dirt coating its face, I had the sense it was smirking at me. “Are you Sushna?” I asked when the silence dragged.
“What have you brought me?” it asked.
I looked at Alex, lost.
“Give her the stone,” Alex said.
I fished the stone of out of my jacket pocket and set it on the ground between us. The creature snatched it with gnarled fingers and unwrapped it from the cloth, holding it out like a prized jewel.
“Mm. For this, I let you keep your legs.”
“My what?!” I turned sharply to look at Alex but he just rolled his eyes.
“Sushna. I’m serious,” he said and the creature cackled.
I was not amused.
Inheritance: (A New Adult Paranormal Romance) (Heart Lines Series Book 2) Page 19
