Page 52 of Endless Terrors
Once that was done, I considered packing up some of my things, but that felt too much like tempting fate. Contrary to what Laurie thought, I did plan to come back. Or hoped to, anyway. I was trying to be realistic about the odds of that happening, and I wanted to ease the burden on my family if the spell failed or something else went wrong. I wavered a little longer, and then I imagined Emma putting my clothes in boxes. I gave in to the urge and went downstairs to get some of the storage totes we’d tucked away.
I spent the morning putting what few belongings I had into those totes, and then I hid them in the closet. If my family knew how much I doubted the success of our plan, they might refuse to go through with it. But as long as my brother was under Lucifer’s spell, there was no other option. Tonight was happening regardless of my own outcome.
After that, I changed into a sports bra and a pair of old track pants. Without the distraction of the letters or packing, my mind began to refocus on last night. I tugged on my running shoes and tied them distractedly, reliving the scene with Gil over and over again. The haze. The euphoria. The horror.
Shuddering, I tied my hair back and went into the kitchen, where I packed a small bag of provisions. I drew the zipper shut a minute later, and the sound it made was stark in the hushed stillness of the loft. I put my arms in the straps and tightened them. The solid weight of a water bottle rested against my spine as I hurried back down the stairwell, eager, for once, to be in the cold. The discomfort of winter’s teeth scraping over my skin would divert me from everything else. It would be difficult to think, much less obsess about the bleak shadow in Gil’s eyes or the broken pleading in his voice. Don’t make me stop.
With a deep breath, I left the driveway and entered a world of naked trees and untouched snow.
I’d stopped jogging during our time in hiding. It had seemed like too much of a risk. Unknown terrain, strangers everywhere, and we were always trying to avoid attracting attention.
All those reasons were gone now.
Today I ran like I’d been wanting to for months. Like the world was on fire, because it was, and all my efforts to put it out only seemed to fan the flames. I didn’t think, or obsess, or worry. There was just the burning in my lungs and the jolts of my feet against the ground. I ran for miles, until the sky lit up and sunlight sparkled over the snow. I finally slowed down when I comprehended how far I’d gone and that my mouth was dry with thirst. I pulled the bag off and sat on a flat rock, then rummaged for the water bottle. I drank deeply, enjoying the feel of the cool water sliding down my throat and warm sunlight on my skin. I ate one of the granola bars, too, chewing leisurely while I looked around. At last, the noise in my head had gone silent. The woods had become a peaceful place for me again.
I lingered there long after I’d finished eating. But eventually I stood and started walking in the direction of the house, my legs slow with reluctance. Part of me wished I could just keep going and see what awaited on the horizon.
The thought made me pause. I pictured the quiet loft I’d be returning to, and I remembered that ringing, awful stillness. Why was I in such a rush to get back, anyway? Wherever I was, all I could do was wait.
Decision made, I readjusted my grip on the backpack straps and turned around, facing that beckoning horizon.
I spent the entire day out there. Exploring parts of the woods I’d never ventured through before. Following the length of a dried-out creek, just to see if I could find the place where it ended. Trailing my fingers along every tree that I passed.
The sky began to deepen, the bright blue sinking into a brooding indigo. By the time I decided to go home, I almost felt ready to face the creature that was coming for me. Almost.
It took another hour or two to retrace my steps. When the barn came into sight again, I was cold, tired, and sore, but my roiling emotions had settled. I walked up the stairs with a heavy tread and quiet veins. The loft was dim, sunlight slanting over the floor in burnt ribbons. I’d been gone longer than I thought. I stopped in the kitchen, tapping my finger thoughtfully against the counter. I wasn’t sure when Laurie was coming, but there was still some time before sunset. I might as well take my last hot bubble bath.
Ten minutes later, I was doing exactly that. I sank into the tub and the bubbles closed in over me. Tension hovered in my shoulders and between my eyes as I waited for images to accost my thoughts. But my mind remained quiet, empty. Maybe it was the fact that midnight was only a few hours away now. I was feeling that strange numbness again, the sensation that seemed to keep happening whenever my life was in danger.
I was just starting to relax when the bathroom door opened.
Laurie came in and leaned against the counter. In a flash, I was standing, water streaming down my body. I was too startled and too aware of how naked I was to be furious. “I thought you’d be coming later,” I blurted.
Laurie’s eyes were dark. They scanned me quickly, and his fingers tightened around the edge of the counter. “I couldn’t wait any longer” was all he said.
There was something in his voice, some kind of tension or shadow that made my mind clear. I reached for the towel on the hook and wrapped it around myself. My voice was stiff as I said, “If you’re here to collect on my debt, this isn’t—”
“I didn’t know,” Laurie cut in.
I frowned, stepping out of the tub. My feet sank into the plush rug. “What?”
“When I made my choice,” he answered. The line of his shoulders was taut, and his body practically thrummed with energy. “When I retook the throne. I didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know what?” I asked. I tried to sound exasperated, but my heart was hammering. I knew exactly where this was leading. Don’t go there, Laurie. I tightened the towel and raised my gaze, knowing he’d see my apprehension, because he saw everything.
Just like I feared he would, Laurie pushed off the counter, his movements a little too fast. It was a blatant reminder of what he was. Faerie. His hair caught the light, strands of it glimmering like stars as he drew closer. One of his hands slid around my waist while the other cupped my cheek. In spite of the agitation coming off him—he’d really worked himself up before coming here—his touch was gentle. He skimmed his thumb along the edge of my jaw, and even that simple touch started a fire inside me. I closed my eyes. I knew this was a bad idea. At the moment, though, I was having trouble remembering why.
“This,” Laurie whispered, then he bent his head.
I turned my face away, but of its own volition, my hand reached up and took hold of Laurie’s wrist. I felt his nose skim my cheek, and a quake went through me when I heard his soft inhale, as if he was enjoying my scent. I looked at the mirror beside us, and the picture we made felt surreal. His moonlight hair gleamed, splaying starkly against the stiff, royal blue collar he was wearing. Never in a hundred years would I have believed I’d end up in this position with the Seelie King. When had I allowed myself to fall for this dangerous, beautiful creature? It was different than what I felt for Collith or Oliver, I thought as Laurie’s lips brushed my skin. With Ollie, what we had felt like water. Soothing, beautiful, familiar. Collith was wind and earth. Inevitable, powerful. Laurie was fire. Crackling, hot, hungry fire that affected everything in its path, no matter how fast you ran from it.
But I was good at running.
“You made the right choice,” I forced myself to say. “It would’ve destroyed us, the sacrifice you made. Both of us knowing what you gave up.”
“I didn’t realize you were a seer,” Laurie remarked. His hand was still on my jaw, but he didn’t try to turn my face. His breath teased the tender skin of my ear, and that’s when I found the strength to pull back. My towel had loosened, somehow, and I grabbed the edge of it with both hands, going toward the door. Why did Laurie always show up when I was naked? Near the threshold, I stopped and faced him again. I gathered a barely-perceptible breath, but his eyes still darted down, lightning-swift, noting the movement.
“I can see the writing on the wall, okay? I’m not an optimist like Collith. I’m not brave like you. Not when it comes to …” I swallowed. But of course Laurie knew what I’d been about to say.
