Page 34 of Carnival of Crows

I leaned in, my mouth brushing the sharp line of his jaw. Pleasure wound tighter, a spring about to snap, until it did, unraveling in waves that left me trembling, my breath hot against his neck. Damien locked his arms around me as he followed, our bodies crashing down together from a high I feared I may chase after for the rest of my life.

CHAPTER 15

Damien

The black 1969 Chevrolet Chevelle SS rumbled quietly beneath us as we left Graves Park behind. The dashboard glowed softly, bathing the inside in warm light while the old heater fought against the October chill. The car smelled faintly of leather, cedar, and the cinnamon cider we both drank during the evening.

Luci had insisted she wasn’t tired. She’d made it exactly fifteen minutes, just long enough to cross the town line. I glanced over just in time to watch her head slowly tip toward the window. She blinked once, twice, then surrendered. A tiny sigh escaped her as sleep claimed her completely.

I smiled to myself. It filled me with satisfaction that she felt comfortable enough to fall asleep with me. Her knees were tucked toward the dashboard, one hand curled beneath her cheek. Strands of dark hair spilled across her face, rising and falling with every slow breath.

I’d spent the evening watching her laugh, watching her run, watching her feed crows and look at my family’s park as though she’d stumbled into magic… now I watched her sleep.

For reasons I couldn’t quite explain, this somehow felt even more intimate than when we were tangled limbs and breathless kisses. She trusted me enough to fall asleep beside me. She simply closed her eyes and knew I would get her some safely.

The GPS quietly announced the next turn.

Continue for twelve miles.

I rested one hand on the wheel while the other tapped lightly against the worn leather. The farther we drove, the quieter the roads became. Streetlights gave way to old stone walls. Pumpkin displays. Farm stands long since closed for the night. New England looked different after midnight in October.

The GPS chimed again.

In one thousand feet, turn right onto Hemlock Circle.

Hemlock Circle.

I couldn’t help smiling. Luci had punched her address into my phone’s GPS before we left the park, but I didn’t know until this very moment the name of her street.

The neighborhood was small. There were Cape-style homes tucked beneath towering maples, mostly every yard was decorated for Halloween.

She must love living here, I thought to myself.

Ghosts swayed gently from tree branches, plastic gravestones lined front yards, and one house had enough orange lights I swear it had to be visible from space.

Then the GPS spoke again.

You have arrived.

I looked up. Number thirteen. Of course.

A laugh escaped before I could stop it.

“Thirteen Hemlock Circle.”

I looked from the numbers on the mailbox to the house itself.

It was a small white Cape with black shutters. There was an orange porch light glowing above the front steps. And in the front yard were two skeletons. One had to be twelve feet tall, the other was just a few feet shorter. Their bony fingers were linked together as though they were taking an evening stroll. Between them trotted a skeleton dog with an oversized grin.

I leaned back in my seat and chuckled. It was perfect.

Two weathered gargoyle statues guarded the front steps like silent sentries. Black mums overflowed from planters beside the porch. It looked like her. Spooky, but welcoming.

I switched off the engine and silence settled in the car. Luci hadn’t moved. I walked around to the passenger side and opened the door as quietly as I could. Cool night air drifted into the car and she stirred just enough to wrinkle her nose.

I smiled. Leaning down, I brushed the back of my fingers gently along her arm.

“Hey, Luci.”