Zion: A Doctor Shifter Romance (Bradford Bears Book 2)

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Zion: A Doctor Shifter Romance (Bradford Bears Book 2) Page 14

by Terra Wolf


  I swallowed my ice cream and said, “Weird, I mean shouldn’t they be into all that stuff?”

  “You would think so, but some strange things have happened there.” We stopped about twenty feet in front of the dilapidated structure. It was completely falling apart. The roof was missing over a large part of the back of the house and none of the windows had shutters anymore. Most of what was left of the windows were covered up with particle board. There were vines strangling what was remaining of the walls and they snaked inside the roof.

  The house gave me a creepy feeling. It was rare that I got those feelings, but sometimes, when I was a kid, I used to feel like someone was watching me. I asked my mom about it one time but she just shrugged it off and told me to stop watching scary movies. Whenever I felt like that I would get goosebumps and the hair on the back my neck would stand up. Sometimes, if it was really bad, I would get this feeling in my stomach like I had just swallowed a brick or something. And I could feel it in the pit of my stomach.

  Joy didn’t notice my distress and continued with her tale. “Last year two kids I know broke in. I guess they thought they were being funny, or that it was some type of joke. Nobody really knows what happened to them in there, but they’re on some serious meds now, one of them is practically a vegetable.”

  I stared at her, “Oh my God, really?” This place was really horrifying. I didn’t know anybody that had been in the hospital. Even when things were really bad with me, I avoided the place like the plague.

  “Yeah, some people say he fell through the second story and hit his head on some of the metal that was remaining in the kitchen. I do know that the police had to go and get them, and fire and rescue were here and everything. One of my friends was a cop on the scene and he said that most of the other police refused to even go in after they got the kid out. My friend wanted to make sure they had secured the scene so he went in to check on things. Nothing happened to him right then, but two days later he got really sick. He was in the hospital for like a week. No one knows what he had, the doctors couldn’t figure it out. I went to visit him once, but he was sleeping. But as I turned to leave the hospital room he started talking.” She shook her head, almost like the story was too much to bear.

  “He just kept saying over and over, ‘No, I won’t go with you. I don’t want to be one of them, I’m a good person.’ It was really weird.”

  The shivers were getting really bad by then and I wanted to get out of there. Her story, which probably wasn’t true, had really freaked me out and I was ready to go home. But then I saw something out of the corner of my eye. Directly under the street lamp was a high-heeled shoe.

  “Joy,” I whispered pointing, “do you see that?” I was hoping her story had just scared me enough that my mind was playing tricks on me, but as I saw her eyes travel over to the shoe I realized it was really there.

  Her mouth opened slightly but no words came out, she just took a deep breath and walked over to the pool of light. I didn’t hear her say any words, I just heard the whoosh of the milkshake hitting the ground.

  I ran over to see what was wrong. My whole body shook when I screamed.

  7

  It was high pitched and blood curdling. But I wasn’t the only one screaming. Joy had begun screaming as well. It took us almost thirty seconds to stop and attempt to get ourselves together. But I could only stop screaming. I couldn’t stop my shaking limbs from moving any way they wanted to.

  Lying in the grass, just past the home’s iron fence, was a girl about our age. The way her body was laying she was clearly dead. She lay face up with her right arm in an odd angle above her head and her legs were placed sideways, it almost looked as though she had been running. The worst of it was that her left arm was completely missing. I turned away. It didn’t feel right looking at her like this. I didn’t even know her name and here I was staring at her lifeless body, like she was on some television show.

  I could hear Joy murmuring to herself as she pulled out her cell phone, “Not again, not again.”

  “Hello 911, yes, my name is Joy Christensen. I think… I think there’s been a murder.” She paused and started to cry. I could hear the operator asking her questions, but I couldn’t understand what they were. I remember vaguely thinking that I didn’t know Joy even had a last name. “Yes, the address is 1551 Mulberry St. Yes, we’re in Salem. Please hurry, her arm... Her arm is missing.”

  Her arm! Jesus. I took another look at the victim. She was a pretty girl, no older than I was. With long brown curly hair and green eyes. Her skin had become a waxy color, I assumed after her death. Her throat was also slit, but when I looked past her throat I realized that she was wearing a necklace with a pentagram on it. The same necklace my Gran had given me as a child. As I further examined the girl, I put together something else. She looked exactly like me.

  Ultan

  I had been out in the woods, just taking a break to be free. The wild always made me feel more at home. Better than I ever did with humans. But then I felt it, her fear. It was palpable. My bear took off through the trees to find her. I arrived behind an old home, and then I saw her, crying under a streetlamp.

  I wanted to reach out to her, but I couldn’t yet. She didn’t know. I couldn’t properly protect her, Joy would have to do for the night. But I wouldn’t let her out of my sight, no free runs anymore. I had to be closer to her, to keep her safe.

  I lifted my snout and sniffed. I could smell the death as it hung in the night air. Death and magic.

  A witch had been here. A witch with blood on her hands.

  About the Author - Terra Wolf

  I love to write about romance that isn’t your typical love story. My books allow my imagination to run free and explore every possible idea I have. That makes writing less like a job and more like a fantasy come to life.

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