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My blood family was so deep into the practice of “Earth’s harmony” that they failed me and my sibling on every level.
Though I couldn’t say I was the poster boy for comfort and stability anymore. Case in point staggered behind me. Allowing this young girl to get this far with me emphasized that very idea.
Scarlet tripped over her shuffling boots, nipping at my last thread of patience.
“We’re finding a place to settle for the night.” I peered around the dark night. Only the glow of the moon through the clouds gave the rolling farmland any distinction.
“We can’t.” She gritted her teeth, anger lining her forehead, peering behind us as if the Romanian guard would come around the corner right then. “We’re not far enough away.”
“Another three or four miles isn’t going to help. And you…” I tipped my head, feeling irritated for some reason. “Aren’t going to make even that.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
“I said keep going.” She shot daggers at me. “I. Am. Fine.”
“And I said…” I stomped back to her, getting right in her face. “You. Are. Not.”
Rage bloomed from her, and for a second I thought I saw something in her eyes, an orange tint to her green irises, and then it was gone.
A few more beats passed before I stepped back on my heel. “Look at you. You’re about to fall over.”
Her chest puffed up.
“Anyone would,” I instantly combated, motioning to her wrist. “Believe me, I understand what it does to your body. I would be on the ground right now.”
She stared down at the bracelet.
“And there is something extra about that one.”
Her head jerked up, swallowing. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, but it has another magic I can’t place.” My hand hovered around the metal, trying to sense it through the thick layers and complicated magic. It was right there, yet I couldn’t reach it. The tips of my fingers grazed the vein down her wrist, stopping at the metal. She stared down at where my hand was on her arm, her body stiff.
Stop touching her. I took a step back, clearing my throat.
“We need to find someone who can take it off.” I moved back more, my tone matter of fact.
She didn’t respond, her silence creating even more unease.
My mouth opened to speak when snowflakes started to float down, the temperature dipping low enough for winter to start shedding its skin. Scarlet was already shivering, and the night was only beginning. The temperature would plummet. Turning around, I headed down the one-lane road in search of shelter.
The night was so silent, but the sound of her boots scraping the pavement, her breathing labored because of her cracked ribs, her teeth chattering from the snowy air, pummeled my ears like spikes.
For the next mile, I flopped between blaming myself and blaming her for being here. Analyzing every incident that led us to this point. I tried to get her to go home. I demanded it, yet here she was. Wounded, exhausted, broke, and far from her friends and family because of me.
And what I had to do… the lengths I needed to go for my revenge? They did not entail a wealthy exchange student as my sidekick.
Up ahead, through the trees, I spotted a puff of smoke billowing from a chimney, a barn sitting to the far side of the house. The snow was getting thicker, the flakes padding our shoulders, soaking into our clothes. I needed to get her somewhere warm. Quickly.
“There,” I whispered, motioning for her to follow me. I would rather both the house and barn be vacant, but at this point, we couldn’t be fussy with lodging.
Fae might not die of hypothermia, but it was still extremely painful and took a huge toll on our bodies. I didn’t have time to sleep for a month to heal. Or have her go into a fae coma on me.
Sneaking across the field, I crept up to the old wooden barn door. The structure looked like it had been there for a century. Yet as fragile and decayed as it appeared, it probably would still be standing longer.
Making sure all was clear, I opened the door, peeking into the space. The strong scent of hay and wheat was absorbed into the wood, as if it was only yesterday the grains had been moved out, leaving just their scent like perfume. Old-fashioned wagons were stored on one end; the rest held equipment and some decaying straw left from the harvest.
