A moan of frustration lodged in my throat as I tore blindly at my cloak. It wasn’t working! I forced myself to go still and let magic flow from my hands. It singed a path through the fabric, but it was too late. As soon as I was free, someone tackled me to the ground.
A rough palm clamped over my mouth, and a harsh whisper filled my ears. “Don’t move, or you’re dead.”
Panic slid through my veins as the man’s ragged breath heated my temple. He pressed me deep into the snow, covering me with the length of his body. My heart cracked against my rib cage, and I fought to control my erratic breathing as darkness crept around my vision.
“Be quiet.” He flattened his palm against my shoulder when I tried to roll out from under him. “Someone’s still out there.”
The man didn’t attack me further, and it took a moment for me to realize he was shielding me from the arrows and not the one shooting them. My fear didn’t ebb; it only transferred to whoever hid in the trees.
Tense minutes passed, and neither of us moved. The snow seeped through my cloak, dampening my clothes and chilling my skin. Finally, the man shifted his weight, went up on one knee, and peered into the forest.
“I think whoever shot at you is gone.” He held out a hand and helped me to my feet. “Keep your head low. It isn’t too far to the house. I’ll stay behind you.” Nudging me forward, he led me out of the forest and back onto the safety of the garden path.
“Over here.” He maneuvered me toward a stone bench surrounded on three sides by tall shrubs. The alcove provided cover while he searched his pocket and removed a square of fabric, then applied pressure to my cheek. “Did you get a look at the shooter?”
“No. It happened too fast. I didn’t see anything—did you?”
“Just someone in a dark cloak, hood pulled up. It was probably an overzealous hunter. I heard there have been issues with poachers in these woods. They can attack without warning if they think someone’s after their game or they’re likely to get caught. You shouldn’t have gone out there by yourself.”
I took over the makeshift bandage, wincing as I dabbed at the cut. It could have been worse. Much worse.
“Thanks for the warning, even if it is after the fact. Who are you? And what were you doing out there, by yourself?”
He cocked a brow at my insinuation. “I’m Andrew Snow. My family is staying at Fairwood for the week. I was getting some fresh air when I saw you walking the grounds. I thought I should warn you not to go out too far, but the shooting started before I had a chance.”
“You’re Isabelle’s brother?”
The hint of a smile curved his lips. “Yeah, don’t hold it against me.”
“No promises.”
His grin widened. He was a handsome man, late twenties, with the raven-black hair that seemed to characterize the Snow family. It was cut short but maintained a visible curl that looked impossible to tame. Square jaw, a hawkish nose, and brown eyes that softened when he reached for the cloth pressed against my cheek.
“Let’s see if the bleeding stopped.”
The cut stung, but it felt more like a surface wound than anything deeper. “How bad is it? Will I live?”
Andrew angled his head and grimaced. “I don’t think so. It looks fatal to me.”
“What a shame… And here I was having such a wonderful time,” I deadpanned.
He chuckled. “Liar. You’re the infamous witch, Tessa Daniels. You’re all anyone’s talking about. I’m surprised Derrick let you out of his sight.” His brow creased, his voice turning ominous. “The vultures are hungry at Fairwood.”
“I can handle myself, thank you very much. Like you said, I’m infamous.” I stood, straightening my cloak, and tried not to cringe at my sore muscles. A nice hot soak would do them good. Cynthia owed me that much after sending me outside into a literal firing range.
“Tessa? Are you out here?” Derrick’s voice echoed through the garden.
I stepped out of the alcove and waved as he approached.
Andrew stood behind me, so close he warmed my back. Something flashed in Derrick’s eyes. A spark of anger?
Instinctively, I put distance between myself and Andrew, but it didn’t ease the tension in Derrick’s features. His gaze centered on my wounded cheek. Then it whipped to Andrew.
“What did you do, Snow?” he snapped, stepping between us.
An odd look crossed Andrew’s face. It was tinted with malice, and my stomach knotted in dread.
Andrew smirked. “You should really get a handle on the poachers hunting near your property. Someone could get killed.” Dismissing Derrick, he turned his attention to me and gave a slight bow. “It’s been an adventure, Tessa. Glad I was around when you needed me. I look forward to seeing you again at dinner.” He winked. “Save me a seat.”
