Authors: K R Thompson
“Okay,” I conceded. I was content to sit and hold his hand for however long it took.
It didn’t take long at all, and moments later we exited the interstate and made our way through downtown Beckley, West Virginia.
“Sorry,” Adam said as he took his hand from mine to concentrate on the traffic around us.
A couple of moments later, he had pulled us into a parking spot in front of an expensive-looking restaurant.
Dmitri’s
a sign said in simple, elegant cursive on a plaque near the door.
“Reservation?” An austere-looking man wearing a starched, white shirt and black pants asked us when we entered.
Adam nodded. “Black Water.”
“Of course, sir. This way.”
Our table sat in the back. It was a small, private place for two, illuminated by soft candlelight. Menus were handed to each of us as we sat down. I glanced over mine, then peeked over the top to look at Adam.
He looked up from his own menu and smiled. “What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful. How did you find this place?”
“Erik told me about it. He likes to surprise Penny sometimes. He said he highly recommends the steak.” Adam grinned. His eyes glowed in the flickering light.
The waiter came to take our order. We both ordered steaks. Adam ordered his rare. A band set up and started to play a song that was soft and seductive. The lead singer leaned into the microphone and began crooning soft lyrics.
Adam stood and held out his hand. “Would you like to dance?”
“Yes,” I smiled, taking his hand while the air around us warmed and sparked.
The atmosphere seemed to sparkle in the candlelight as we danced slowly, and I leaned my head on his chest, listening to his heart beat in rhythm to the music.
He leaned his head towards mine and sang softly, “You’re beautiful, you’re beautiful… it’s true…”
It was this moment, I knew I loved Adam.
ALL TOO SOON, we were back at my house and Adam was saying good night on the front porch. It started to rain.
“Thank you for a great night,” I said, still clinging to his hand.
“Thank you for coming,” His voice was low and deep.
I leaned forward and kissed him. I didn’t want this night to end.
He broke the kiss, leaned back the tiniest bit, and traced my chin with his thumb. “I love you, Nikki.”
“I love you,” I whispered before closing the gap between us. I kissed him again as the air sparked and swirled, and the rain pattered like music.
HE WAS SO alone. There was no one to help him, no one left who cared. She would never love him. Not the monster he was.
He watched her as she went inside and the Jeep drove away. She looked so happy and so complete. She closed the front door, and a moment later, he saw the upstairs light come on.
He stood outside her window and wished. He wished for a different world. One where she wouldn’t belong to someone else. He watched as she passed the window. She looked like an angel in powder blue with her hair surrounding her in a golden, curly halo.
Tears ran down his face and mingled with the rain. Thunder cracked overhead, echoing that of his broken heart.
I HAD SOLVED the mystery. I was sure of it. “We should ask Wynter.”
“Ask her what?” Adam asked, perplexed, as we sat waiting for English class to start.
“She may know who the trail killer is.”
“The elders thought of that a long time ago. She won’t interfere in anything that may alter the history of humankind. So, yes, it is a good idea, but it’s been done already.”
I wondered how hard the elders had tried. Somehow the fact that this particular Spriteblood was a reformed fairy, and one that used to feast on human flesh, had me questioning how hard they had asked for help. There was the fact that they didn’t want to ask her for any favors, too.
She hasn’t exactly been ruled out as a suspect, just so you know,
his voice whispered through my mind.
“Ah,” I nodded, deciding not to argue with him as the teacher took her place in front of the class.
But after school, I headed to the library. Something told me that I would find answers there if I asked the right questions.
Just before I stepped through the door, I stopped and took a deep breath. The last time I came through this door, Tiffany had ambushed me on the other side. I peeked through the crack. The coast was clear. I opened the door. The image of Mrs. Graham was leaned over a student at a far desk and pointing at a computer screen. She looked busy, so I took the opportunity to look around.
It was astounding.
Enormous oak bookcases with intricate carvings were set up in a complex, semi-circular maze around the room. This room didn’t look like it belonged in a high school. It was too intricate, too antique. A black metal staircase stood in the center of the room and spiraled upward to another level that you could partially see from the bottom. Straight back from the staircase sat the librarian’s desk, against the wall.
It was the wall behind her desk that caught my attention. The same wooden carvings covered it as the bookcases around me, but as I focused on it the wood rearranged itself, shifting and realigning as if it had a spirit of its own.
Each section moved, clicking into place to form a door that was only accessible by going behind the desk.
I looked over at the computer section as I walked around the staircase. There wasn’t anyone there now. A quick look the other way proved that I was alone in the bottom of the library, so I walked over to the desk and focused on the door again.
The carvings moved across the door and formed a sentence. The words written made no sense to me. I stared at them harder, thinking maybe they would shift again if I focused more.
“Wise am I and ancient in all things,” I murmured.
“Restricted section,” a cold voice said behind me.
I jumped and turned around to face Wynter, who looked at the door angrily, baring her pointed teeth.
“Show yourself to no one,” she commanded, her voice cracking like thunder. Afraid to turn around and watch, I listened as the wood of the door behind me snap sharply at her request, slamming itself back into its original form. The ancient oak wood splintered in protest.
Wynter turned the full effect of her ice blue eyes on me, demanding, “What is it you require?”
“Um, I came to return my book.” I held out the book she had given me. “It was very useful.” I stopped before I said “thank you.”
She noticed and a slight smile curved her lips as she took the book from me. She held it up in the air by its spine.
“Find your place,” she told the book. I watched in fascination as
A History of the County of Bland
picked itself out of her hand and went floating to one of the bookshelves, squeezing between two other volumes that shifted over to make room.
As if in approval, Wynter gave a slight nod. It left me wondering if her books ever misbehaved. The books that were her clothes fluttered softly and caught my attention. The pages flipped and I could see tiny, elaborate writing on the small squares of paper.
“Is there something else you need?” Wynter asked. Her voice hadn’t warmed even the slightest bit.
“Mrs…?” What did I call her? I wondered. She didn’t look like sour, old Mrs. Graham, so it didn’t seem right to call her that.
“I am Spriteblood. Those who know of me call me by name, and those who do not, shall never hear it. They will only hear the name of the woman whose image they see. I am known as Wynter,” she said, with a slight incline of her head.
Taking it as an introduction of sorts, I smiled at her. It felt as though I were making some small progress in the strange world of the supernatural.
“The others do not know you have come.” She bared her razor-sharp teeth in a way that did not imply friendliness.
Nope, no progress. She may eat me. I took a deep breath and decided to try anyway.
“No, ma’am. They don’t know I’m here, but they won’t ask you what they need to know, so I came alone.”
“Their old ones asked many years ago,” she corrected, looking thoughtful as her teeth were hidden again.
“Would you tell me what the truth is? Do you know who the monster is?” I asked.
“What you name monster lives in us all,” she said sadly, and turned to walk away from me.
I was afraid that she wasn’t going to tell me anything else, so I didn’t stop to think. I just acted. “Please, I’ll do anything.”
She stopped in mid-stride. I wasn’t the only one who realized my mistake, but now it was too late to take it back.
“They should walk their Deadlands,” Wynter said in a sorrowful voice. “Slowly.”
I ran out of the library with my heart racing. I had asked for help and gotten it, but I had also promised to help her, with anything.
The entire drive to the Res, I kept thinking of the bedtime story of the fairies that live under the hill, and wondered what payment I would have to give her when the time came.
I don’t know if they had heard my heart hammering that loud, or if it was the way I slid sideways into the driveway and parked, but Adam and Erik walked out to meet me before I could jump out of the car.
“What’s going on? Are you all right?” Adam opened the door of the Jeep and I jumped out.
“I just talked to Wynter,” I said in a puff, feeling as if I had run the entire way instead of driven.
“That explains the hurry.” Erik rolled his eyes. “What did ye ol’ fairy queen have to say?”
Please tell me that you didn’t thank her,
Adam’s voice begged through my mind.
I looked over at him and shook my head, “Well, no, I didn’t do that. She says you should walk through your cemetery, slowly.”
“Huh?” Erik’s face was utter confusion.
“Are you sure that’s what she said?” Adam asked. “Tell us word for word.”
“She said,
They should walk through their Deadlands. Slowly
.” I repeated.
“Ah, okay. That makes somewhat better sense,” Erik said with a nod.
What did you have to promise to get her help?
“I’d rather not say,” I said quietly.
Will you tell me everything later?
I nodded, and Adam turned to Erik. “Call the others. We’ll search.”
Erik ran around the corner of the house. A second later, an ear-splitting howl pierced the air. Within moments, Ed, Tommy and Michael arrived and the group shifted to wolves. Adam had been the only wolf I had seen, but the others looked exactly like those in my dreams. Five sleek, beautiful wolves turned to run into the woods.
“Can I go, too?” I asked.
Sure, come on,
Adam waited as I hopped up on his back.
“What are the Deadlands?” I asked as he started to run.
Magical places. I know with the name, that’s not the way it sounds. There are places in the forest where there was so much magic, it soaked into the earth. Anything that breathes stays away from the Deadlands since they have a foreboding feeling. It’s as if these places don’t want anyone or anything around. We can’t even scent anything there. The magic blocks us. I’m guessing that’s why Wynter said to walk slowly.
I felt his shoulders twitch in a shrug.
In a few moments, the atmosphere changed and the wolves slowed to a walk. The wind blew in a sudden gust that threw dead leaves into our faces as if it wanted us to stay away. The next instant, there was dead calm. There were no birds chirping high up in the trees, no bugs buzzing around us, no snakes slithering through the underbrush. The complete silence was unnerving and spooky. Tall, dark trees bent in strange angles. This place looked a lot like the one I had walked through to get berries. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.