10. Emi
Ihated him. That toad-bellied snake had shut himself in the bedroom again, and I was spending another night on the couch stewing in my own thoughts. For the third night in a row, the oaf had bested me and stolen a claim to the bed while I was occupied—this time, because I’d really needed to bathe.
Wolf had spent the rest of the day after our confrontation ducking outside whenever I was in the house, and returning whenever I emerged into the clearing. It felt like chasing my own shadow. While I’d been in the garden, he’d snuck inside to eat the omelet I’d burned for him on purpose, and then washed all the dishes like some weirdly courteous criminal. The moment I’d returned, he went slinking out the front door without a word. Slippery sneak.
Now he was hidden away again behind that infuriating closed door. I supposed it was for the best. I still hadn’t organized my thoughts about his explosive claims earlier, despite my mind churning all day.
The Mist had showed up when I was a babe, and since then, there had always been rumors of its origin and tales of people vanishing in the forest, never to be seen again. If Wolf could be believed, there was truth to those stories.
None of that forgave his cold-blooded murder of Grandma Ruby.
None of it changed the burning pit of grief and anger churning inside me.
But all day, my thoughts wandered to the other people he’d mentioned, curious to know if they would tell the same story. I’d been coming and going from Aglonbriar Forest since I could walk the path to Grandma’s house on my own, and I’d always returned unharmed. I wasn’t cursed.
Then again, Wolf said it was the Mist that claimed them, not the forest itself, and the path had always been clear for me before. This time, though, Mist had wrapped itself about my ankles, and still, I was fine.
And then there was the rest of it.
This insane claim that Grandma was a witch. That I was, too.
Wolf was so sure that was what protected me from the Mist’s effects, but it made no sense. I would know if my family were witches. I couldn’t have reached twenty-one annums of age without knowing. So what was the truth?
Was Wolf pure evil and lies, or was he so deluded he believed all this?
A steady pounding had taken up residence behind my temples, and I rubbed them as I tried to get comfortable on the couch. I needed sleep so I could think properly. I was going to have to hope that Wolf wouldn’t choose to kill me if I slept. He hadn’t so far. This wasn’t trust, but I had to be practical.
I set up beside the door like Wolf had shown me and tried to control my pulse. When the doorknob began to turn, I held my breath. He would be expecting me this time. I would have to be fast.
“Faster. Harder.”Wolf’s rough words echoed in my brain and brought an unwelcome flush to my skin at the memory of his body pressed against mine.
Another heartbeat. I flattened my back to the wall, watching the doorknob from the corner of my eye. One more heartbeat.
The door eased open, and I waited until I heard the spot where it rubbed against that one warped floorboard I kept meaning to sand down for Grandma. Today, I was glad I hadn’t.
The soft shhhh was my warning. One last heartbeat.
As hard and fast as I could, I punched out and back, just like he’d shown me. Now he would learn the price for his mistake. The knife flashed across its arc, catching a glint of firelight that reflected with the scarlet red of fresh blood.
Sudden fear closed my throat.
I was attacking a dangerous man. I was aiming to kill a person. What was I doing? Who was I?
A loud thunk preceded sharp and sudden pain reverberating through my elbow as the knife slammed to a stop. The shock wave rocked my arm. Blue skies! I didn’t realize it would be that hard. Had I hit bone?
In the span of less than a single heartbeat, my elbow screamed from the impact, my head spun. I’d attacked another human being. I would be a killer now. But this was justice. It was deserved. A life for a life.
Shimmering sunbeams, I was going to be sick.
I wasn’t prepared to bury a body!
“Much better,” came a familiar rough tone.
What?
I didn’t realize I’d closed my eyes until they flew open to find Wolf, not clutching the knife in his heart or gurgling his last breaths, but whole and hale and grinning at me. The knife was embedded in the wood back of the rocking chair he held up like a shield and it pulled from my shocked grasp as he jerked the chair away.
“Look at you, you’re learning.”
I swore a hint of pride tinged his voice. Did he not understand that I tried to kill him? That I wanted him dead? And why was I dizzy with relief?
Tremors started up my legs, and Wolf reached out to catch me by the arm.
“Whoops, easy there, witchling. First time trying to kill anyone? I should have warned you about the adrenaline drop.” He deposited me on the couch and took a seat on the low table in front of me. His elbows rested on his knees, bringing our faces close together. “Do you want a debrief? Your position and grip were both better. Speed and force, too. But—and this is a really advanced tip, so listen up—you might want to keep your eyes open next time.”
The sound that came out of me was half growl, half scream, and maybe just a tiny bit gasping relief, but I wouldn’t admit to that part. Whatever it was, Wolf laughed.
I didn’t. “I hate you.”
“Yeah, but you’re still cute.” He had the nerve to tap the end of my nose and then reach for a dark red lock of my hair to curl around his finger.
I slapped his hand away. “I’m going to kill you.”
“Correction,” he said. “You’re going to try to kill me. Unlucky for you, I’m not that easy to kill, so I have a proposal for you instead. A trade, of sorts.”
“What could I possibly want from you?”
“You just said it. You want me dead.”
“You’re going to let me kill you?” This sounded suspicious. Suspiciously like a trap.
“Not exactly. But I’ll teach you. I’ll show you how to fight, and you get to take all the shots at me you want while we’re training. Go ahead and sharpen those claws, kitten. But the rest of the time, we call a truce and you help me.”
“Why would I help you? I’m not doing anything for you.”
He smiled that stupid grin where his bow-shaped lip curved more at one side to flash a canine tooth pressing into his lower lip. It glistened, sharp and dangerous like the rest of him. I shivered.
The sludge-headed scoundrel winked at me. “That’s the best part, witchling. You won’t be doing it for me. You’ll be helping the innocents, the ones already cursed and those who will be if we do nothing to end this. Help me figure out what the Ruby Witch did, and you’ll be helping them. Do that, and maybe I’ll let you kill me after.”
I scowled at the witch talk again, but I couldn’t see any immediate downsides to this deal. If the past few days had shown me anything, it was that I was no fighter. My life revolved around baking and keeping my household stocked and avoiding the nastiest of the townspeople, so I was better at disappearing and running away, not standing up and fighting. If Wolf wanted to teach me enough to be able to kill him, then that was his problem. Besides, I could be patient and wait for the perfect opportunity when he let his guard down.
Rubbing my sore elbow, I considered. His mercurial eyes tracked mine. They were such an unusual color. The image of him hovering over me in the clearing after he’d dragged me away from the monster that attacked us came back, and I couldn’t help remembering the way his eyes had looked then, bright and silverine, searching me for injury.
“One condition,” I said. When he raised his eyebrows in question, I continued. “I get to ask you anything and you promise to answer truthfully.”
“Always will,” he replied with unexpected sincerity. “Deal?”
I would probably regret this. “Deal.”