Bound

by Kirsten Weiss

  I’d never come here at night before, and in the darkness the place was transformed, enchanted. In spite of my urgent need to get to the hospital, I was seized by the desire to stay, to rest in the soft ferns, dip my bare feet into that cold pool. I wandered to a clutch of flowers, gleaming white in the darkness, and brushed my fingertips across their whispered petals.

  A figure in a long coat emerged from the redwoods on the opposite side of the spring. He squatted beside the water, dipped in his hand.

  Nick touched my arm, and I shivered. He pressed a finger to his lips.

  I nodded and edged behind a redwood, out of sight.

  Bending low, Nick crept around the edge of the spring, disappearing in the bushes leading up the hill. I couldn’t see him moving above the spring. He made no sound. Where had he learned that skill?

  I peeked around the tree.

  The man in the long coat rose, head cocked. Abruptly, he burst into motion, a startled deer, splashing across the low stream fed by the spring and toward me.

  Nick appeared above the spring. “Wait!” He loped down the hill and crashed through the bushes.

  The man raced toward me.

  Not thinking about it, I stepped from behind the tree. “It’s me, from the coffee shop. We only want to talk—”

  He slammed into me, the blow knocking the air from my lungs and my feet from beneath me. I twisted, falling, and my hands hit the damp soil first.

  His footsteps padded past, and I smelled urine and sweat and fear.

  Winded, I scrambled to my feet. “Wait,” I croaked, clutching my side. Damn, that had hurt.

  Nick skidded to a stop beside me. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. Go.” I panted, palms burning.

  He charged after our quarry.

  Leaning against the redwood, I inspected myself for damage. My hands had taken the brunt of the impact, and they stung, dark lines of blood marking my palms.

  I trudged to the spring. Kneeling, I thrust my hands into the water and smothered a gasp. It was icy, numbing. I rubbed my hands together, ridding them of dirt.

  The moonlight rippled in the water, mesmerizing.

  I smothered a curse. Some help I’d been. I hadn’t even slowed the man. At least Nick was a more interesting lawyer than I’d given him credit for.

  The joints in my hands throbbed, and I rose, blotting my palms on my slacks.

  Footsteps clomped toward me. I tensed.

  Nick stepped from the trail. “I lost him.”

  Dammit. “We’ll find him.” Our quest might be moot — the man might not have seen anything. But at least Nick was trying, and a rush of gratitude swelled inside me.

  “Did he hurt you?” he asked.

  “No. I’m fine. Really.”

  He took my hands, examining them. “You’re bleeding.”

  “Not much.” I pulled free, awkward. “I’m fine.”

  “No, those are deep cuts. I’ve got some antiseptic in my pack.”

  “You come prepared,” I said.

  He shrugged out of his backpack and unzipped it. “I keep the pack in my car, ready to go if I come across a good hiking trail.”

  “You didn’t strike me as an outdoorsman.”

  “I’m full of surprises.” He found a small tube in an inside pocket, and unscrewed the top. His touch light, he dabbed it on my palm.

  I twitched, my body heating at his touch, and looked away. This was embarrassing. I barely knew the man.

  “You’ve got some surprises too,” he said. “Do you come out here often?”

  “There’s a trailhead not far from my house.”

  “You shouldn’t hike alone, especially after dark. People get lost in these woods.”

  “It wasn’t dark when I left.” I lived here, and I knew the forest. He didn’t need to sound so bossy. “I must have lost track of time.”

  He released me, returning the antiseptic to his pack. “We should go back.”

  “Right,” I said, oddly disappointed.

  We climbed the steps, leaving the spring. The trees hooded the sky, blotting the light from moon and stars.

  I stumbled over a loose rock.

  Nick turned on his flashlight. “Mind if I use the light? Normally, I’d let my eyes adjust to build my night vision, but I’d rather not break a leg tonight.”

  “What are you? Some sort of woodsman?”

  “What else is there to do around here?”

  We walked in silence. I was late. I was sore. I was falling for Nick’s charms. And I wasn’t happy about any of it.

  “We don’t need to be quiet anymore,” he finally said. “He knows we’re out here.”

  “Do you have any news on the case?”

  “My big lead vanished into the woods. So, no. What about you?”

  “No leads on my end.”

  “I meant… Have you and your sisters always lived here?”

  “We ran away to college,” I said, “but we all returned to Doyle. It’s home. What about you? You said you’re from San Francisco?”

  “Born and raised.”

  “What brought you to Angels Camp?”

  “I was looking for a change,” he said.

  He’s lying. I swatted at my left ear. Where had I gotten that idea? His voice and manner hadn’t changed. But something was false. His Armani suit, his demeanor, he belonged in a big-city law firm, not in a small town in the California foothills.

  Nick stopped and shined the flashlight down the hill.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Nothing.” He continued on. But his light scanned back and forth, searching.

  The landscape changed to a rolling slope covered in oak trees and dried grass brushing our knees. We were nearing my house, but my brow wrinkled. At night, it was difficult to pick out the familiar markers in the landscape. I felt as if I were in one of my recurring dreams, struggling toward a destination on a road I knew, but the journey had subtly changed.

  I extended my senses. Magic whispered against my skin, and my flesh pebbled. I love magic. But I wasn’t thrilled about magic I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand this.

  He stopped. “Is this right?”

  “We’ve passed the first branch, where we met.” My voice wavered. “After that, there’s only one trail out of here.”

  He turned. “I don’t remember this place.”

  “We’re not far…” I didn’t recognize it either. Magic. Someone else’s magic was causing this, and suddenly the curse was all too real, primitive superstitions crowding my mind. I forced my breathing to slow. The curse was about childbirth, not getting lost in the woods. “We are on the path, aren’t we?”

  He shined the light at our feet. A pale, dirt trail cut through the amber grass. “We’re definitely on a trail.”

  Then we were on the trail. At this point, there was only one option. But the sense of wrongness intensified. There was magic here, a magic I’d never felt in these woods before. I fought down my rising panic. Fear wasn’t going to get us out of here. I cleared my throat. “Maybe it’s the darkness that makes it seem unfamiliar.”

  “Then you think we’re on the wrong track too.”

  I bit my lower lip. “I don’t recognize this place either, but there’s no way we could have jumped trails.”

  “All right. Let’s walk on a bit further. This trail must go somewhere.”

  The path twisted, looping up into cool stands of redwoods and pines and down into dry, open areas spotted with oaks. Fifteen minutes later, we stopped in a gully.

  “We’re on the wrong track.” Nick unzipped his pack and pulled out a bottle of water, offered it to me.

  I took a gulp, handed it to him. By now I should have been home. I was a pathfinder. My knot magic was about more than strings — it was about connections, paths, understanding what led from point A to point B. Even if there was a spell at work, I shouldn’t have gotten so confused.

  “Let’s turn around,” he said. “We’ll find where
ver we got off track. Worst case scenario, we can make our way back to the spring and retrace our steps from there.”

  I nodded and followed the dancing beam of his flashlight. Nick’s logical approach made sense when my natural magic wasn’t helping. We crossed into a mass of trees. Thick roots knotted across the path, bent arms and legs, round whorls like human faces, and I shuddered, imagining I was picking my way across human bodies.

  I didn’t recognize this place.

  “You were looking for something earlier,” I said, and my voice was steady. “Did you suspect we’d gone off trail then?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “What? Oh. Yeah. Just paranoid, I guess. When you’re a lawyer, you assume everyone is lying and plan for the worst-case scenario.”

  I forced a laugh, again sensing an untruth. “Such as getting lost in the woods?”

  “We’re not lost. We’re on a trail.”

  But we were lost. Yes, each trail began and ended somewhere, but for the life of me, I didn’t remember walking this trail. And I never got lost. No, that wasn’t true. I had gotten lost, once in these very woods, when I was young. The terror of that memory gripped me now, its tentacles sending a chill up my spine.

  I shook the fear loose. We were on a trail. We might have a long walk, but spell or no, we’d find our way home. All the spell could do was alter our perception of reality. It couldn’t actually change the path.

  Or could it?

  My jaw clenched. Dammit, by now I was supposed to be with Ellen at the hospital.

  We marched on for another thirty minutes, and Nick stopped again. “We should have reached the spring.”

  The trail had become a tangled thread, and I didn’t know which end to grasp to unravel the knot. “I didn’t see any forks off this trail, did you?”

  “No, and I was looking.”

  “Hold on.” This was ridiculous. I knew these trails, and if this was a spell, I wasn’t going to let it lead me around by the nose. I closed my eyes, willed my pounding heart to calm, imagined the curves of the trail I knew so well. A stream trickled off to my right, enticing. I ignored it.

  Following an intuition, I knelt, laying my palm flat on the path. Where are you going? Energy surged up my arm. Something snapped, wrenching me sideways. I gasped and fell onto my butt.

  “Karin?” Nick grasped my arm and gently pulled me to standing.

  Dizzy, I sagged against him, the hard planes of his body fitting to my curves. His arms were steel bands — comforting steel bands.

  I’d been without a boyfriend for way too long.

  Embarrassed, I stepped away.

  His arms dropped to his sides, unresisting.

  I pointed at a lightning-struck oak. “There. I recognize that tree. We’re on the right trail. This way.” Grinning with relief, I pointed the way we’d come. Magic. So it had been magic, and I’d beaten it. Take that, dark magic!

  His brow furrowed. “Weird. I remember that tree. But I’d swear it wasn’t here a minute ago. Why didn’t I see it earlier?”

  “The moonlight messes with your vision. Come on.” I hurried down the trail. I was late. My sisters were going to kill me. But at least the trail was familiar now. The slope of the hills. A broken fence. An abandoned barn. I trotted forward, eager to escape.

  “Careful,” Nick said.

  “There it is!” My house shone through the trees, the solar lights in my lavender and sage garden dotting the clearing below.

  He helped me over the stile, and I turned to him. He was close, standing on the other side of the low fence.

  In my imagination I saw myself leaning in, brushing my lips across his. Heat flushed my cheeks. “Can I drive you to your car?”

  “No. I’m in the parking lot not far from here. But thanks.” He studied the garden, and his expression softened. The scent of lavender coiled about us.

  “Can I get you some coffee? Or maybe something stronger?” No. No! Why had I said that? I had to get to Ellen at the hospital.

  Nick stepped away. “I’d better get back.”

  I was off the hook. So why did I feel let down?

  He hesitated, as if he wanted to say more. Then he turned and walked down the path, along the fence line.

  I swallowed. What would have happened if I’d acted on that impulse, leaned in for a kiss? If we’d been in one of my romance novels, he’d have made love to me amidst the lavender, never mind the rocks pressing into our backs and the leaves sticking to our hair.

  Too bad life wasn’t a romance novel. Unlike Lenore, who walked between this world and other planes, my feet were planted in the real world. And now someone else’s magic had entered my world, changed the trail, and for what? To frighten me? Get me lost for good? I remembered what my aunt had said, about someone keeping the curse alive, and my muscles tightened.

  Had I brushed up against that someone?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Blowing out my breath, I returned to my house and checked my cell phone. As feared, there were half a dozen voice and text messages from my sisters. And they hated leaving messages. I put it on speaker and pressed play.

  “It’s Jayce. Where are you? You’re never late, and I’m getting worried. Call me.”

  Dammit. Well, what had I expected?

  The message service beeped.

  “Lenore here. Karin, are you all right? We’re really worried.”

  I checked my watch. It was nearly eleven, but my sisters would be awake. I texted them both: AM FINE. SORRY. LONG STORY.

  Laying the phone down, I stripped off my filthy top. The phone rang, and I picked it up. Jayce.

  “Karin! What happened?”

  “Are you at the hospital?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Unless that’s too late?”

  “Are you kidding? I can’t sleep with all the machines beeping and alarms going off down the hall. And a nurse comes in every twenty minutes to check on a machine. I mean, these pull-out couches are great, but who are they kidding? You have to be drugged and unconscious to sleep in this place. Can you swing by the drug store and pick up some earplugs for me? Either that or something to drug and knock me unconscious. Where were you?”

  “I’ll stick with the earplugs. See you soon.”

  I took a quick shower and changed into jeans and a soft, gray t-shirt.

  I grabbed my keys and purse and drove over the low stone bridge to the pharmacy on Main Street. It didn’t take long for me to find ear plugs. At the counter, I added a Snickers bar — well-earned calories after my hike in the woods.

  I stepped onto the concrete sidewalk, pausing to stuff the paper bag inside my purse. Light and music and raucous laughter poured from a bar across the street. Unlike Jayce, I’d never been one for the bar scene. The siren call of this bar did nothing for me now.

  A storm of crows erupted from behind the pharmacy, billowed over its false front. Their wings blotted out the stars, and their harsh voices screamed like machinery. The flock twisted higher. Then the black cloud shattered, birds whirling in every direction.

  My hands tightened on the paper bag, crumpling it. Even I knew an omen when I saw it.

  Head down, I zipped my bag and walked toward my car, parked along the road.

  Someone slammed into me.

  I stumbled against a wooden beam holding up a balcony. “Ow.”

  “Sorry.” Brayden laid his broad hands on my shoulders. The scent of stale alcohol wafted on his breath.

  “No harm done.” He’d hit me in exactly the same place as the homeless guy, and my bones felt bruised. I’d never seen Brayden drunk before and didn’t like it now. But then I caught the look in his eyes, the confused ache, the terrible, ripping pain, and my own heart squeezed with misery. “Brayden—”

  “Have you seen Jayce?” he slurred.

  “Not lately. Have you had anything to eat?” I tried to pull away, but his grip tightened.

  He leaned on me, and I fought not to buckle beneath his
weight.

  “I need to talk to her about the computer,” Brayden said.

  My stomach fluttered. Had he found a lead? My mouth compressed. I shouldn’t be encouraging him. I should be getting him food or getting him home. But I had no idea how to accomplish either. “Alicia’s computer?”

  “Stories she was writing. She. Alicia.”

  “Your wife, I know. What stories was she working on?”

  “Puff piece on the good doctor. An ode to Toeller’s wonderful service.”

  “Oh,” I said, disappointed. Definitely not an article to kill for.

  “And about the council. City council. Someone selling votes.”

  That sounded promising. And awful. “Corruption on the city council? Who?”

  He yawned, bleary-eyed. “Don’t know. Tell Jayce.” He released me.

  I staggered sideways and gripped the beam for balance. “Wait. Brayden. You should eat. Let me…”

  He stumbled across the street and into the bar.

  “Oh, Brayden,” I murmured. I should follow him, help him sober up. But he didn’t want my help. He wanted Jayce, the one woman he needed to avoid. And I had an obligation to my own family to fulfill.

  Shaking my head, I slid into my Ford and drove to the hospital.

  Jayce, in yoga pants and a slouchy, purple t-shirt, sat in the lounge chair by our aunt’s bed.

  Ellen slept, her face turned toward the darkened window.

  Rising, Jayce nodded toward the door. She led me down a hallway and outside, onto a patio decorated with cement planter boxes and wooden benches. The branches of a redwood tree brushed the edge of the metal railing.

  “What happened?” Jayce asked, voice low. “You’re never late, and when you didn’t answer your phone—”

  “I went for a walk on the path behind my house. I needed to clear my head.”

  Jayce snorted. “Did you get lost?”

  I hesitated.

  “Oh. My. God. You got lost.”

  A nurse walked past.

  “Jayce, something weird happened,” I whispered. “I’m not sure how to explain it. I went into the woods, and then all of the sudden, hours had passed. It was… Is there such a thing as lost time? And then walking back, I ran into your lawyer—”