“I’m glad you came along when you did, Mr. Ash—” I said, though I didn’t like to confess we had needed saving.
“Please call me Ash.”
“Ash.” The name settled in my mouth, at once familiar and sweet. “I think some wild animal was following us, though I never saw it clearly. It disappeared when you showed up.”
“There’s not much tame and safe in Ticonderoga Falls.” He grinned at me in the moonlight, and he chuckled, low and soft. “That’s one reason why I love it here.”
That was when we cleared the last stand of trees.
The sky and the surrounding landscape had darkened to violet. We now stood at the edge of a twisted black wood and, save the beam from his tiny lamp, we were engulfed in darkness. I shivered as a brisk wind greeted us and we stepped away from the forest.
“Come, you’re almost home,” he said, and he put one hand gently on my shoulder.
From the moment he touched me I felt safe, something I hadn’t felt for a very long time. Then together, we walked toward the cabin, silhouetted in the near distance behind the rising moon.
Chapter 11
Autumn Skies
Thane:
One moment Ash was walking the human woman and her boy through the wood, the next he was a winged shadow that flew through autumn skies, nightmarish and dark, carrying the fragrance of wind and rain. River joined me and together we hid in the forest gloom, both of our faces turned toward the little cottage on the green, watching as it lit with yellow light, as Maddie and her son transformed into black silhouettes.
We’d been so close to catching her earlier; if Cousin Ash hadn’t come along when he did, surely we’d have harvested her by now. She would have been delicious. I was sure of it. Even the trees and the wind had seemed to sense it.
And now she was walking toward the bed and breakfast, crossing the green meadow and then the road. Her boy remained back inside the cottage, playing in the front room with the dog.
All the while, I could see Sage watching us from the widow’s walk. She knew we were here, hiding in the wood. A shiver of regret ran through me as I realized that it was now too late to go back and dispose of the dead human.
Chapter 12
A Glass Jar
Maddie:
The door swung closed behind me and from the moment my foot crossed the threshold, I felt like I was in another world. Outside the moon cast broad silver beams, the forest clung possessively to the colors of summer and the air was electric. But here, inside the Ticonderoga Falls Bed and Breakfast, I felt suddenly trapped.
Like I had just walked inside a glass jar and someone had spun the lid closed.
It’s my imagination, I thought, forcing myself through the foyer into a large entryway, toward the registration desk. I’ve always hated Victorian houses, with all their nooks and crannies, pantries and closets, their doors within doors and hallways that seem to lead nowhere. Hitchcock got it right when he staged Psycho in that mausoleum. Ever since that movie, my heart would ricochet in my chest whenever I saw turn-of-the-century architecture. Like this place.
Part Victorian Gothic, part Queen Anne romantic, part Herman Munster scary.
I crossed the lifeless room filled with swirling dust motes, shadows melting in corners, time standing still. My body the only thing moving as reality seemed to shift around me.
The rules are different here.
I stopped, remembering that thing I had seen back in the woods: Talons and skin the color of night—
My pulse sped and something flickered in the back of my mind, something that hadn’t happened for so long that I almost didn’t recognize it—an idea for a new character.
“Did you want something?” Professor Driscoll, the owner of the bed and breakfast, gloomed in the shadows, blending in like a chameleon. He crouched behind the desk, a wizened old man staring over wire-rimmed glasses. With his bowed stance and unflinching grimace, he looked like he had eaten something bad for lunch.
“Yeah, I—” I reached the registration counter, remembering that wild animal that had followed us in the woods. I swallowed with difficulty, my throat suddenly dry.
“Speak up.” Driscoll tilted his head, probably aiming his best ear in my direction.
“I want to rent the cabin for two more days.”
“No.” He shook his head. “You went off the Ticonderoga Trail. I warned you not to go up by the falls. That bridge isn’t safe after all the rain last week and I’m not gonna be liable for some idiot who tumbles over the edge out there.”
“But I—how do you know I went off the trail?”
“It’s written all over you. Eucalyptus leaves in your hair, red clay on your shoes. That stuff’s only on the Ponderosa Trail.”
I ran a hand through my hair and, sure enough, I pulled out a leaf. “Okay, I won’t go up that path again. I promise.” But even as I said it I knew I was lying. I suddenly needed to see what was up there, hoped that I would see that flying creature again.
Leathery wings, body that hovered in midair, staring at me.