Page 70 of Pareidolia

Yet.

“It’s a good thing.” Ewan interrupts my thoughts. “Don’t you know there are monsters in those woods?” He smiles when he says it, his soft brown eyes amused, and I force a laugh.

“That’s what you always used to tell us when we were small, yeah.”

When I say the word us, Ewan’s face falls. It wasn’t intentional, bringing up Rory, though a part of me has been curious how he’s handled the pain since his son passed. I can see it now in his eyes, still raw and real, boring holes into his skull so memories can flit into the sky like they could build him a bridge to find his son in heaven. At least I’m not telling him that the asshole is probably in hell for trying to kill me first.

“There’s nothing good in those woods, Alex,” he finally murmurs, and I nod once.

“I’ve been out there a while, though, Mr. Daniels… and I have to say, there’s nothing in there that isn’t out here.”

The little confession makes something in my chest sing, something in my blood hum. Looking him in the face and knowing that I’m the reason he probably cried himself to sleep because his little asshole of a son tried to kill me so I killed him first is intoxicating.

He’s going to have to spend the rest of his life living beside a murderer, and he’ll never know it.

“Still.” Ewan’s eyes flick to the trees, and I wonder if he’s ever seen a flash of red and white. Has he ever seen Nox lure someone into those depths and noticed they never came out again? “It doesn’t hurt to be careful.”

I do my best to offer another friendly smile and hitch my bag onto my shoulder. “You’re probably right…” I lift my key and swing it in a loop around my finger. “I’ll probably still go into the woods, but at least I have a house to come back to now, right?”

Ewan looks me over again and shakes his head. “I just don’t want you going missing, Alex. That’s all.”

That pain again, spilling from his body and slamming against my chest. It’s edged with anger.

I have to fight not to close my eyes and draw in a trembling breath. Being able to feel the agony of his loss all these years later is powerful.

Another gift Nox gave me without realizing.

“I probably won’t. Nothing’s gotten me yet.”

That’s not exactly the truth. The scars on my body, the bite and claw marks, are proof that something has gotten me more than once.

I’m just lucky enough that I’m apparently a complete slut for the pain and pleasure of being prey.

I spend the next few days cleaning the house as much as I can. It doesn’t surprise me that my parents left me a huge mess even after death. The only thing that does surprise me is the fact that Nox hasn’t shown up to drag me back into the woods kicking and screaming. By the third night, I have half the shit I don’t need moved into one of the spare rooms and new sheets on the king-sized bed in the main bedroom.

Ewan Daniels was a good neighbor and brought me some casserole and a dessert, with Noah standing behind him almost awkwardly. His delight that I’m here was so palpable that I nearly choked on it, and he told me if I needed anything, he was just a call away.

Apparently he does still live with his dad, taking care of him from what I gathered.

They wanted to make sure I felt at home now that I was back for good.

Home.

Fuck. It’s still such a strange word to me.

I never thought I’d buy a house, let alone something with four bedrooms and a basement. I was ready to live in my van and whatever campsites I could find for the rest of my life. It wasn’t exactly easy, but it felt free.

Things are different now. I can have an office here. I can actually settle down and really put effort into making my writing a full-time thing so I’d never have to venture into town again.

I could be a shadow of a person, play at being real. I could⁠—

A hand spills from behind me, claws digging painfully into my stomach. The feel of Nox’s body pressed against mine makes something inside me spark, flare to life, and then calm.

“Where have you been?” The danger in his voice drags a small moan from my chest. “I hunted and you weren’t in the cabin. I brought you back a squirming little camper and ended up killing them when you didn’t return.”

I gloss over the fact that there’s another dead body in our little murder cabin and move straight to the accusation in his voice.

“I told you I was going to get a job.” It’s not a good explanation.