Night Tide

by Kory M. Shrum

When Abby and Grayson hesitated, she jerked her head.

  “You too,” she said, throwing open her car door. “He might need to speak to you.”

  They departed, with Grayson driving his car. Abby rode shotgun as they followed Miriam’s Prius onto Canyon Road then Midnight Pass.

  He thought they might make it all the way to the interstate when the Prius suddenly slowed and its blinker came on. It flashed, signaling a turn.

  “There’s nothing here,” he said, incredulously.

  “You can’t see it?” Abby asked. She gave him a curious look. When he shook his head, she added. “There’s a road there. On the left. It must be concealed with magic.”

  Again he was confronted with the idea that Abby was a witch. That Abby, unbeknownst to him, had crossed that line without his knowing.

  Had they been heading for this shift even before the horrible night in the cove? Had it always been only a matter of time before they crossed the line between worlds?

  Abby was fully on the other side of that line now. But where was he?

  Maybe that’s what his question about college—about what kind of life he saw his future self in—was really about. What kind of life did he want? Which world did he want to live in?

  “What are you thinking about so hard?” Abby asked.

  “Nothing,” he said. He turned onto the dirt road.

  The smell of salty ocean air filled the car.

  The road was clogged with thick foliage from overgrown brush on both sides of the road. Grayson hissed as branches scraped at the sides of his car. He expected dips and ruts, but the road was smooth.

  “He probably forces the branches back,” Abby said.

  “What do you mean?”

  She makes a motion with her hands. “Like with his mind. Ethan is really powerful, probably the most powerful demon in town, from what I hear.”

  “We are driving to a demon’s house?” he asked. He wasn’t sure how he should feel about that.

  “Honestly, no one can be sure of what he is. He walks in daylight, and demons can’t do that.” The trees broke open and a two-story Spanish villa sprang into view. The dirt road turned to beautiful paving stones that circled in front of the house. In the center of the roundabout was a fountain bubbling softly with turquoise water.

  Miriam parked her car in front of the cream-colored steps. Grayson parked behind her and got out of the car. With his dirty clothes he felt wholly underdressed for a place like this. He was sure someone who’d just run more than half a marathon through the woods to save their lives didn’t look or smell too great. But his self-consciousness was obliterated by the gorgeous ocean view. It sparkled like champagne in the late afternoon sun.

  “Somethin’ is wrong,” Dante said behind him, breaking the spell.

  “Yes, I see that,” Miriam answered.

  Grayson followed their gaze and found the front door to Ethan’s house had a giant hole blasted out of it. It hung on its hinges.

  “What in the world could do that?” Abby asked.

  “Hope,” said Naomi and Ms. Monroe at the same time.

  “They should stay in the car,” Miriam said and Grayson realized that she meant him and Abby.

  “What if she finds ‘im there and kills ‘im?” Dante asked.

  “I could stay with them,” Ms. Monroe offered, a hand resting on top of her bristly orange hair. The hope was evident in her tone.

  “No, Tabby, I want you to be my eyes.” Miriam sighed. “We’d better stay together then.”

  Ms. Monroe visibly deflated as Miriam nodded toward the door. “You first.”

  “I was afraid you’d say that.” Ms. Monroe sighed. “All right.”

  Then the woman who’d been Grayson’s boss for the last two years did something he’d never expected. She transformed.

  Into a cat.

  The stark orange hair that always jutted uncontrollably from her head smoothed itself onto the sleek, lithe body of a house cat. And not just any cat. But the cat that he’d known as Pumpkin.

  “She—” he began but could only point at the cat. “Shit.”

  Abby grinned. “You didn’t know? At least I’m not the only one.”

  Ms. Monroe stepped out of her human clothes and trotted up the cream-colored steps into the house. The five of them—Miriam, Dante, Naomi, Abigail and himself—lingered on the steps, looking around at the approaching night darkening the distant horizon.

  It was nearly fifteen minutes before Ms. Monroe returned. By then the cricket song had swollen to a full cacophony and the ocean waves had nearly lulled Grayson into a doze.

  As soon as he realized Ms. Monroe was transforming back into her human form, Grayson turned around quickly. He didn’t want to see the woman whose shelves he stocked, naked, even in twilight.

  “They’re in the crypt below. There’s only one way in and out. I heard voices.”

  “Hope?” Miriam asked.

  Ms. Monroe shrugged. “Maybe. It was hard to tell.”

  “We need to see him,” Miriam decided at last. Then she turned on Abigail and gave her a stern look. “You’ll have to keep him close.”

  Abigail nodded, stepping closer to Grayson.

  They followed Ms. Monroe into the house as she led them through the labyrinth of lavish rooms. Grayson had always suspected that the mayor of the town was wealthy. Not only because of his position but because he was one of the oldest residents in town. It was likely he’d had centuries to acquire and stockpile his wealth.

  But seeing it with his own eyes was something else. He felt like he was in a museum, surrounded by paintings and tapestries. It looked like Ethan had raided the Palace of Versailles or something.

  Finally they came to a study. The walls were replaced with floor-to-ceiling bookcases made of dark wood. Red fabric couches and highbacked chairs rounded out the decor. Ms. Monroe approached a fireplace with twin carved panthers of black stone flanking each side. She placed her hand on the right panther and the fireplace shifted. A passageway appeared behind the flames.

  “It won’t burn you,” Ms. Monroe whispered. “Just step through.”

  She waited for someone else to take the lead and Miriam obliged. Dante crossed in after her with Naomi in third position.

  Then Ms. Monroe was waving Grayson and Abby forward. “I’ll be right behind you!”

  Grayson crossed the threshold. The flames felt like a cool breeze on his skin, but he passed through them without feeling pain.

  Ahead was a spiral staircase. Grayson was behind Abigail, following her down. The air grew colder with each step. It felt as if they were underground now, with only the cold earth pressing in against them in all directions.

  When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he saw several things at once.

  First, the walkway that he was forced to step out onto in order for Ms. Monroe to exit the stairs. The walkway had only one direction, straight ahead to a stone coffin. The lid of this coffin had been thrown across the room. It lay broken in three large pieces against the far wall.

  It had collided with some of the stone carvings lining the walls. It gave Grayson the impression he was in an old temple, surveying ancient etchings of fallen gods.

  The only two people in the room—Ethan and the woman—each stood on one side of the stone coffin. Ethan was on the left, the woman on the right. Their gazes were locked.

  Then a shadow moved and Grayson realized there was a third person. A tall, attractive man who looked vaguely familiar. He’d seen him before, but he couldn’t be sure where.

  “Do not mind the mess, my friends,” Ethan said calmly. But he didn’t take his gaze off of the woman. “Hope is a chaos demon. She can hardly help herself.”

  “I’m so much more than that!” the woman hissed. Her face took on a hideous snarl. “I’m her chevalier. Just as well as you! You have no more right to her than I do!”

  Hope jabbed her finger into the center of the coffin each time she said the word her.

  Grayson wasn’t su
re he wanted to see her, whoever might be entombed here.

  “You weren’t successful in getting the blade,” Ethan said calmly. “This isn’t going to work.”

  “It will work,” Hope snarled. “It will.”

  “All that Ydril told you was untrue,” Ethan said calmly. He placed one hand on the coffin’s stone. “I know you spoke to him at Crossroads, but you didn’t like his answer.”

  “He said the blade was in the ocean. That the sirens had it.”

  “He deceived you,” Ethan said.

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t realize every piece of shit in this town was loyal to you,” Hope hissed, her fingers gripping her edge of the coffin. “They won’t be once they know what a coward you are.”

  “So how did you learn the blade was in the forest?” Ethan asked.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Hope said.

  “Because you didn’t manage to get it. You can’t do a full resurrection without it.”

  “I don’t need to! I’m her chevalier. She chose me, Ethan. And you’ve hated me ever since.”

  “My queen does as she pleases. I would never question her will.”

  Hope snorted. “Then watch this.”

  “I wouldn’t,” Ethan warned.

  But Hope’s eyes had already filled with red fire. Her teeth elongated and tore open her wrist in a single vicious bite.

  Ethan made the smallest movement in Miriam’s direction and all hell broke loose. Three curses, thrown by three witches—Miriam, Naomi, and Dante—flew across the room at once.

  A second after the red sparks flew from the end of her fingertips, Miriam shouted at them over her shoulder. “Shield, Tabby! Now!”

  Before he understood what was happening, Ms. Monroe had shoved Grayson and Abby into the far corner of the room. She’d forced them both down into crouches, as if making them the smallest targets possible and with walls on their sides and back.

  The only problem, was Ms. Monroe looked ridiculous with her arms thrown out in front of her, as if she would physically intercept any attack thrown their way. Until one of the dozens of curses hurled around the room did in fact sail in their direction.

  “Ms. Monroe!” Grayson screamed. But he needn’t have bothered. The spell hit the air inches in front of the bookshop owner and rippled the air around them. Ms. Monroe was in fact, somehow shielding them.

  Dante flew across the room and slammed into the wall with a humph.

  “Come on!” Ms. Monroe cried and the three of them crossed the rubble strewn floor toward the unconscious witch. “Abby!”

  “On it!” Once she was in range and safely behind Ms. Monroe’s shield, Abby began working on Dante. She rolled the man over and without a second thought, opened his shirt.

  Grayson’s mouth fell open

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Abby hissed. “I need to concentrate.”

  “Sorry,” Grayson said and did his best to school his features. But he was sure that his shock and amazement was showing through as he watched the tips of Abby’s fingers begin to glow. Soft, light seeped into Dante’s chest, building and brightening with each passing moment.

  Abby’s eyes were closed, her mouth moving in an inaudible incantation. With her face in concentration like that and her face awash in the soft, magical light, Grayson thought she’d never looked so beautiful.

  I’ll be with her forever, he thought. He wasn’t sure if this was precognition or wishful thinking, but the words felt true either way. From right now until the day I die.

  Dante’s eyes fluttered open.

  “How do you feel?” Abby asked.

  Dante grinned. “All right. Thanks for stitching me up, love.”

  Abby grabbed his hand and squeezed.

  A blood curdling scream tore through the room and all eyes went to it.

  Ethan had the woman by the throat. Blood was burbling up between his fingers as her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.

  “You shouldn’t have come here,” he said. The calm didn’t match the violence.

  And with one furious throw, he dashed the woman against the wall. Her skull cracked open and its contents sprayed across the floor.

  Everyone else stood there as if unsure what to do next.

  Ethan looked around the broken wreckage of the temple. He stepped on a piece of stone and crushed it under his foot, rendering it to powder on the bottom of his black dress shoe.

  “That’s twice someone has come into my house looking for her,” Ethan said, touching the edge of the stone coffin lovingly. “Liam, I will have to move her.”

  The tall man that Grayson recognized from somewhere, hooked his arms around the demon’s waist. “We’ll find somewhere safe.”

  Ms. Monroe tugged on Grayson’s sleeve and nodded toward the stairs. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Before you go,” Ethan called as the five of them stood crowded at the base of the stone steps.

  Miriam spoke for them. “We came to tell you what we learned of Hope’s plans—now that we’re not needed—”

  “I know.” Ethan held up his hands, making it clear he didn’t intend to keep them. “I only wanted to thank you, heartily, for your assistance here tonight. If your arrival had not distracted her, perhaps it would have gone quite differently.”

  “You’re welcome,” Miriam said. She seemed to be the only one with the courage to speak to the man who was soaked up to his elbows in the dead woman’s blood.

  They left the villa in silence. Before Grayson and Abigail climbed into his car, Miriam called out. “Abigail.”

  “Yes?” Abigail sounded nervous, even to Grayson.

  “You did well today. Be proud of yourself.”

  Abigail beamed. “Thank you, Miriam.”

  They waved toward the departing coven and followed the car back to the road.

  “Do you want me to take you straight home?” Grayson asked as Castle Cove’s lights came into view. Night had arrived. The city was awake.

  “No,” she said. “I’m too wound up after everything. You would think I wouldn’t be after the hike but—”

  “I know what you mean,” he said. “How about Sam’s Soda and Shakes? We did cover like seventeen miles and a full-out monster battle—twice. I think that merits milkshakes.”

  It was a diner in Old Town a couple blocks from the First Night Theater. They specialized in burgers, fries and had an old-fashioned soda counter. After the long and physically exhausting day, Grayson thought he could eat three burgers alone.

  Abigail smiled. “Sure. And then we’ll live happily ever after.”

  Grayson couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

  “After we go to UCLA for four years,” she said. “Of course.”

  “UCLA?” he stuttered.

  “I was accepted. Or we could go to CCU if you want. I got in there, too. Oh, don’t look so surprised. My grades are way better than yours.” Abigail smiled and twined her fingers in his.

  He wanted Abby, without a doubt. The events of the last few days had made her time with him seem incredibly precious. But he was still surprised that she wanted him.

  “Are you sure you want to be with me?” he asked. “You can have anyone.”

  “But I deserve to have who I want, don’t I?”

  “Yes. But are you sure—?”

  She didn’t even let him finish. “Grayson. I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

  Create a new story

  Grayson: Leave the onyx on

  Grayson wrapped his hand around the onyx. “But I don’t want to take it off.”

  “Of course you do.” She looked out the window, searching Canyon Road. No doubt she was hoping the cavalry would arrive.

  “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he was quick to add, only that he wasn’t sure how to end that statement. “I just want to wear it.”

  “That’s fine.” She grabbed the pack between her legs and threw open the passenger side door. “We better get a move on.”

  Gray
son looked at the dashboard clock. It was 12:12. She was right. They were losing daylight.

  He stepped from the car into the tall grass. He hefted the pack onto his shoulders and locked up his car. With several long, loping strides he was able to catch Abigail at the edge of the woods.

  A shiver ran down his spine as he recollected the illustration from The Dark Mother and Her Children. He didn’t see any eyes watching him, waiting for him to step vulnerable into the woods. But he suspected there might be creatures here that he couldn’t see. This was Castle Cove after all.

  Abby took his hand and pulled him into the forest. “I want us out of here before dark. Come on.”

  The dense canopy overhead immediately blotted out most of the sunlight.

  They hadn’t even gone twenty feet before he realized he was right about the low light. He’d suspected the covering in this part of the forest was thick, dappling what little sunlight they had.

  In the Wayward Woods, he could walk until nearly sunset and count upon the light. The trees weren’t as crowded and the wide expanse of bright sky overhead invited hikers to linger in any of the beautiful, open fields surrounding the trails. Lake Trail, in particular, offered a gorgeous view for stargazing. And it was close enough to Sunset Park that one could linger well into the evening and feel relatively safe.

  Here the trees seemed to stand almost on top of one another.

  They are crowding in on us, he thought. He shivered again.

  “We need to get to The Crone Tree within three hours if we can. We can make it if we keep a good pace,” he said.

  Her head was up. Her eyes were bright. He respected her even more for that. She’d always been smart, probably one of the most brilliant students at their school, but her seriousness—when seriousness was merited—is what impressed him. Landon had been a jokester. He’d laughed at all the wrong moments and whenever the moments had been tense, like when Abigail’s father left town and never came back, he’d tried to use laughter to dispel the gloom.

  “I don’t think we should talk,” she whispered.

  Grayson agreed so they walked in silence.

  First a mile. Then two. By the third mile, his mind had entered a sort of trance state as it often did when he walked. His thoughts flittered away and left him only with the sensation of the experience. His body laboring. Fresh air moving in and out of his chest. A slight sweat forming on his brow and the back of his neck. The shirt trapped between his skin and backpack had grown damp.