6. Emi
Ishould have run anywhere but here when that beast first chased me. Now I was trapped with an even worse threat. One who had gotten under my skin, made me think he was like me in some way—both of us alone and just doing our best—when all that time, he knew exactly what he had done. He was a monster, and he knew it.
Anger flared hot and white inside me.
Unfortunately, the bright haze of it had faded enough for me to realize the danger I was in. Reality was a cold shock.
Wolf had killed Grandma Ruby. Would he kill me, too?
Of course he will, you’re nothing but a loose end, my mind taunted me in Jade’s voice. Leaving me alive wasn’t an option. The man had admitted to murder. He couldn’t let me live.
As the fight drained out of me, Wolf’s arms loosened their grip around my torso. He didn’t let me go, but neither did he move his hands to my throat or wrest the knife from my grip and plunge it into my heart. He would, soon. Right?
“Are you done?” he grumbled in my ear.
I couldn’t answer. A choked sob lodged in my throat.
How had this happened?
I was going to die before ever truly living. I’d never get to see more of Anterra, or meet people who didn’t judge me and call me witch-spawn and refuse to meet my eye. The only person who might have missed me was dead.
My death wouldn’t matter.
No one would be left to avenge Grandma Ruby.
No one would care enough to find either one of us.
Tears streamed down my cheeks, blurring my vision as I twisted free. To my surprise, Wolf didn’t stop me. He let me retreat across the kitchen with the knife held aloft in my fist.
Wild thoughts raced through my head. I could throw the knife, but if I failed to kill him I’d have lost my only protection. Could I dart for the door? I doubted this kitchen knife would be enough to get me past the monster prowling the woods. The clearing was small, but…could I hide? Then I could wait out the danger and escape.
If I made it back to Baines, I’d find a hunter. We’d come back and find Wolf. Then he would pay for what he’d done. I just had to get away first. The problem was I hadn”t the sunniest idea how. My first attack had been full of wild anger and no plan whatsoever. Now, I could hardly see through my tears, let alone gain an advantage. He was fixed on me, impossibly alert. All those muscles I’d admired at the woodpile tensed to form an unbeatable barrier between me and freedom.
“Why did you kill her? What did she ever do to you? Is this who you are, a murderer of sweet old ladies? I can’t believe I sat at a table with you. I can’t believe I almost—”
No. I wasn”t thinking about how I almost kissed him last night. I was definitely not thinking about how I imagined his arms around me as I went to sleep on the couch. Sunbeams, what sort of man claimed the only bed without discussion? That should have been enough for me to see the terrible person he was.
“Sweet?!” Wolf shouted. Then again, quieter, “Ruby was no sweet old anything. Are you insane? You”re obviously addled by whatever magic poisons your blood. That”s the only explanation. Or you”re a very good liar.”
“I’m a liar? You”re the one assassinating old women. You”re the monster here.”
“Never claimed otherwise. But I”m not the only one, witch.”
“I am not a witch! Neither was my grandmother. Why does everyone always say that?”
He gripped the countertop separating us, his knuckles turning white. I was heaving from adrenaline—first the terror in the woods and now him.
Faster than lightning, he vaulted the counter to land at my feet. In one sweeping motion, his hand flicked out from his rising body and snatched the knife from me. I didn’t even have time to scream.
A heartbeat later, he was two paces away again, and I couldn’t remember how to breathe. He held the knife casually, and it annoyed me to no end how he looked so much more at ease with it. A shiver crawled up my spine, and I backed away. He followed, prowling forward to keep the arm-span distance between us.
“Maybe, little witch, if everyone said it, that”s because it was true. Hmm? Do you expect me to believe you didn”t know? You don’t need to keep lying. She”s dead.”
“Yes, you made sure of that, didn”t you?” I refused to let my voice tremble even as Wolf backed me all the way up against the pantry door. There was nowhere to run. With a gulp, my eyes tracked the tip of the knife raised in his hand. “Go on. Get it over with.”
He hesitated.
His eyes bore into mine, then followed my gaze when I couldn”t help it flicking to the knife again. Immediately, he dropped his hand and backed away. “Why haven”t you attacked me yet?”
Me? He was the one holding the knife. Besides, I’d tried. What more did he think I could do?
I gave a pointed look toward the knife, my breaths coming in quick pants again now that it didn”t seem like he was seconds from stabbing me.
Danger radiated from him, but his expression grew less murderous and something closer to wary. Curious? Maybe that was it. It obviously couldn’t be fear. There was no possible reason for him to be afraid of me. I was the one in mortal peril in this situation, not him, no matter how much I hated that truth.
“I did,” I gritted out. “You took my weapon.”
He gave the knife another considering appraisal and then set it down on the counter beside him, keeping his eyes trained on me all the while. “Go on. Take it.”
This had to be a trick.
He was tense. Alert. Watching to see what I”d do.
“No.”
“No? You don”t want to kill me for ridding the world of that evil witch?”
Oh, I wanted to. I wanted to smack him again, too. “You deserve to die.”
His eyebrows quirked. “Probably. So do something about it.”
“What, so you can say it was self-defense when you kill me too? Lucky you. It must be two-for-one day in the murder aisle.”
When he stopped staring at me, he appeared to be fighting a twitch in his lips. “You are…something.”
“I’m not stupid,” I retorted.
“I never said stupid. Though you do seem pretty intent on pretending that your sweet granny wasn’t the worst witch Anterra has ever seen, the one responsible for the Mist and the clouded curse we”ve all found ourselves in for a score of annums now. Sounds pretty stupid to me. And now I”m offering you a free shot to take your chance at killing me, yet you”re just standing there glaring. Sorry, witchling. If looks could kill is still just an expression.” His face clouded momentarily. “Unless that”s your magic.”
“I. Am. Not. A. Witch!” I yelled. At the same time, I darted to my left toward the knife.
He countered with one step. I reversed and lunged right. He blocked me again. Driving my knee up, I aimed to catch him where it counted, but he rolled a hip into the motion and absorbed the glancing blow. His arm caught around my chest before I could lunge left again. A frustrated shout escaped me.
“Really?” He held me with ease while I flailed at him, only hissing once when I caught his shin with my heel. Then he laughed. It started as a startled gasp, but quickly turned into full-on chuckling.
“I’m glad you find this so amusing. You won”t soon.” It felt good to issue the threat even though we could both see I was in no danger of making good on it. The laughing galled me. Incensed me. How dare he?
“Don’t mind me, witchling. I didn’t mean to interrupt your wonderfully huffy tirade. By all means, continue. I’ll wait.”
For a long time, he just held me, his grip solid but not hard enough to hurt, and he was laughing softly all the while like I was a joke. I was not a joke!
Yes, fine, maybe I was weak. But I was also patient. I could wait as long as it took for him to lower his guard, then we”d see who got the last laugh.
With that in mind, I stopped fighting.
“Oh, are you done now?”
I nodded, and his grip loosened. “Let me go, you psychopath. Don’t touch me.”
“I’m trying not to, but if you keep trying to kill me, I’m going to keep stopping you.” His body was still hot against mine, matching the fire of my impotent rage, but his expression had cooled. With embarrassing ease, he moved us out of the kitchen and dumped me unceremoniously onto the couch. “Now stay there while I get you a bandage,” he ordered.
He backed away and put the distance of the rug between us, studying me.
After an eternity, he spoke. “You don”t have your magic yet, do you?”
Wolf prowled before the front window. Since fetching me a bandage for my arm, he’d barely stopped moving. I hadn’t tried to rise from my spot on the couch, not because he’d ordered me like a dog, but because I’d decided the current situation gave me little choice. He reminded me of the wild creature stalking the edge of the clearing outside. Occasional howls alerted us to that thing’s continued presence, reminding me that I was trapped with a killer inside and monsters out.
And now this insane criminal thought I should have magic.
“Of course I don’t have magic,” I insisted again. “I am not a witch. How many times do you want me to say it?”
My skin heated under his blatant scrutiny while his grey eyes dragged up my body.
That was only anger flaring hot across my chest. And it was definitely fear sending prickling heat up my spine, nothing else. I couldn’t believe I’d ever thought I was attracted to him. Last night felt a lifetime away. Now if only he would stop staring so I could find my opportunity to get hold of another weapon. Grandma must have something else I could use in her cottage…
…My cottage.
My anger faltered on the realization.
Annums ago, Grandma had told me she was leaving me the cottage when she died, which… Oh, Grandma. My heart gave a painful squeeze at the sound of her voice in my mind. “I knew it would be yours, Emi. You’re the only one I’d trust with it.”
Tears stung at my eyes, though I couldn’t stop myself from watching Wolf’s fluid steps as he paced. I wanted to jump up and crash us both through the diamond panes of glass, roll us across the clearing, and drag him to the beasts waiting in the trees. I would feed him to them myself. Obviously, I had no hope of fighting him, but something about Wolf set me on the very edge of my self-control. He made me feel crazy.
Even the memory of teeth cutting across my arm wasn’t as unnerving as the man studying me like a butcher planning how to take apart a carcass. Wolf looked like he was mapping each cut on my body with deliberate precision as his gaze raked from my neck to the very bottom of my toes. When he was done his dismembering perusal, he looked me square in the eye.
“Nah, you definitely are, little witchling. Whatever you do, don’t wish me dead right now. Imagine the cost of that sort of power. I doubt I’m worth that much trouble.”
I had no idea what he was talking about, too busy wondering why he had bothered to save me in the first place if he was only going to end my life now. Maybe he wanted to take his time. I shivered at the thought, remembering the way he’d growled at me when he had me pinned to the ground. I could have sworn his teeth were longer, sharper in that frozen heartbeat, his gaze brighter. His eyes had gleamed silver, some trick of my terrified mind or a strange reflection that my fear exaggerated.
I could still feel his body pressing down on mine, and when he crossed the rug to approach me, I caught another whiff of that woodsy vetiver smell that brought me back to the way his arm had covered my face. In another scenario, it could’ve been protective.
He was too close.
His head tilted as he leaned over me. “Plus, look at you. As much as a witch-to-be can ever be innocent, you have that look about you. You don’t want death magic. I bet you catch spiders in your house and set them free.”
“What is that supposed to mean? Of course, I free them. They haven”t done anything wrong.”
He shook his head. “What am I supposed to do with you?”