Chapter 2
Jon
“Careful on the turns,” Cliff snapped.
“This may astound you, but I know how to drive,” I muttered.
“You knew how to drive the old Pontiac—barely.” He glared through the passenger-side window, measuring the space between the Challenger’s glossy flank and the winding rails that matched the mountain road. “You’re turning too tight. It’s putting stress on the suspension.”
“Didn’t think your dream car was so fragile.”
If only we had time to switch places. We hadn’t thought twice when hurrying back into the car; it had been a hasty fifteen-minute haul of packing everything from the cabin back into the trunk and hitting the highway immediately.
The car wasn’t really what was grating on him, though.
He was dealing with the same gnawing pit as I was since receiving Tammy’s cryptic texts: the fear that we’d let her down after all these years.
Night had fully settled in, and we were closing in on Aspen fast—though not nearly fast enough for our taste.
Tammy saving us on the darkest day of our lives nearly a decade ago was red on our ledgers that we could never fully blot out.
Without her guidance, I didn’t know how the hell I could have made sense of the horror I’d endured with my father’s possession.
Tammy had been equally surprised when she stumbled upon us, having been following a trail of missing kid reports until she found two teens taking matters into their own hands.
She was the one who put a gun into my hand and gave me purpose. Thanks to her, I was willing to put my life on the line for others so that my tragedy was imbued with meaning.
If Tammy needed us, we’d come. Always.
I breathed a little easier as a sign announced that the nearest exit to Aspen was only a few miles away. My mounted phone’s GPS promised that our route was nearing its end, pointing us toward 1189 Ponderosa Avenue. We’d be there before midnight.
Sylvia was perched on the dashboard, where she studied the dark road, peppered with occasional headlights. She had been unusually quiet through the entire drive. Although I could barely glimpse her expression, I knew it was a far cry from the broad smile she’d worn during her birthday celebration.
This detour was pulling us in the opposite direction of our search for Aelthorin by several miles. She didn’t say a word of protest, not a whisper of hesitation. Of course not. But even with the anxiety of Tammy’s situation, I carried enough room for guilt. I always did.
Cliff cursed under his breath as he pulled his phone away from his ear. “She’s not picking up,” he said. “Still getting a generic voicemail.”
His statement charged the air between us. Neither of us could bear to voice our theories as to why Tammy would go silent after such an urgent plea. It could be that she was lying low, playing smart the way she’d taught us.
Or she’d been caught and hurt before we could reach her.
We were lucky enough to get a city name, let alone an address. All we could do was drive forward.
“Wait, did you see that?” Sylvia shot to her feet, wings bursting open to carry her to the curved glass of the windshield.
I frowned, only spotting the turn-off for Aspen’s exit approaching a couple of miles ahead. Buildings were nestled among the hills in the distance, but nothing so alarming.
“What are you looking at?” I asked.
Sylvia’s silence stretched for several long moments as she searched the night sky. “There was something in the air—something glinting up ahead.”
Anxiety rooted in my gut as I divided my attention between the road and where she was pointing. The dark sky was blanketed by thin clouds and pierced with stars, but otherwise clear.
The GPS chimed in its cheerful, robotic voice: Turn back. Get away. Turn back. Now.
I flinched and looked at the screen, unsure whether I’d heard the voice at all. It felt more like a talon raking the back of my mind, and Sylvia had no reaction to the strange message. I screwed up my face, shaking it off.
“There!” Sylvia drew away from the glass as though it burned her. “Shit, can’t you see it? It’s like a shield.” She looked between us, her green eyes widening as we returned confused looks.
“Is it glamour?” Cliff asked, studying the sky intently, every muscle in his body coiled like he had any hope of fighting something invisible.
“Maybe, but it’s not fae. Even I can barely see it.” Sylvia was growing more panicked by the second. “I don’t know what it is, but we’re going to drive right through it. Jon—can you feel anything?”
As I strained for even a glimpse of this invisible terror, I did see something.
The road ahead seemed to blur, the shadows multiplying and overlapping.
I squeezed my eyes for a second, trying to sharpen my focus.
But the drunken haze remained, tainted by faint iridescence at the corner of my vision.
An uncanny feeling struck me like a bullet. I was about to drive straight into a solid wall and get us all killed.
“Jon?” Sylvia insisted.
Her voice sounded far away. The other drivers on the road had the right idea. They were exiting onto the nearest shoulder to turn around, avoiding certain death. But that couldn’t be right, I told myself fiercely. We were trying to get to Aspen. To Tammy. We needed to proceed to the exit—
The calm GPS voice pitched into an unholy whine. TURN BACK. GET AWAY. TURN THE FUCK AROUND OR YOU’RE GOING TO DIE.
Gasping, I jerked the wheel to the right, veering toward the edge of the road. Sylvia shrieked, and Cliff lunged out to catch her as she was thrown toward his window. Metal scraped deafeningly as the car leaned into the guardrail.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Cliff roared.
“Jon, straighten out!” Sylvia cried.
My breaths burst in and out, my foot still on the accelerator as I gaped at the steep drop off below us.
Even with my stomach roiling at the height, I was convinced that driving into the snow was a better option than taking the exit to Aspen.
A coppery taste filled my mouth, the hum of unnatural energy making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
I was distantly aware that I had felt this kind of enchantment before, but I couldn’t think over the sound of the GPS bleating.
With great effort, I forced the wheel to straighten somewhat, but my hands trembled with the strain of controlling myself. A thread wavered in my grip, seconds from snapping.
“Can—can you hear that?” I asked desperately.
TURN AROUND. TURN AROUND. TURN AROUND.
Cliff groaned, gritting his teeth like it was getting to him, too. Sylvia looked up from his hands, shaking her head frantically.
“Hear what?” she asked, breathless.
I squinted ahead. The exit loomed only a few hundred feet away now.
Other drivers swerved away from Aspen’s exit erratically, taking the turnaround at the last moment.
When I didn’t follow the pack and forced myself to change lanes, I jerkily swung around a slowing car.
A crunch of metal rang out as the vehicle behind me smashed into the next one in confusion.
I glanced at the review mirror, sick with the instinct that joining the terrible wreck was a better fate than moving forward.
TURN BACK. IT’S NOT TOO LATE.
Sylvia’s voice cut through the howl of the GPS. “Listen to me! Take the exit—it’s right there!”
My heart pummeled my ribcage. I was standing on the edge of a ravine, and she was trying to persuade me to take a step over the empty air.
“I can’t,” I gritted out.
“Trust me!” she screamed. “Do it now!”
I squeezed the wheel and pressed hard on the gas. I shot through the exit, though every nerve in my body was rigid with the certainty that this was a mistake.
Sylvia pushed out from Cliff’s hands and hovered beside me. “Keep fighting it.”
Trying to control my breathing, I forced my gaze forward. There were no other cars on the road ahead, and a glimpse at the rearview mirror told me that we were the only ones who had reached the exit at all.
“Fucking witchcraft,” Cliff bit out, like the utterance itself was an effort. He rubbed his temples, then threw me a dark look packed with memory.
Witchcraft. The realization settled into my bones with chilling certainty.
That coppery taste and hum of frantic energy clicked into a twisted familiarity.
We had fought these kinds of enchantments before, though never this powerful.
If this were the work of a coven, it would be unrivaled by anything we’d come up against.
My mind flew to Tammy. Had she fallen prey to the people behind this?
Sylvia waved her hands for my attention. “Focus on me.” Her sharp command grounded me. She analyzed the GPS on my phone, which flickered dangerously and continued to whisper warnings to me. “We’re nearly to the address. Just a little further.”
The enchantment still pulsed at my senses, threatening to commandeer my body to its bidding.
The prismatic haze clouded my senses as I navigated the quiet city streets.
Slowly but surely, the intrusive thoughts began to fade, like we had breached an invisible shield.
Before long, the buildings became sparser, trees lining the road on either side in neat rows.
The three of us grew quiet as a massive building came into view at the end of the winding, pine-shrouded road.
A hotel, though it could have been mistaken for a castle.
The towering structure cast a gentle glow against the night sky, its architecture a stark contrast to the modern buildings and homes we had passed.
Pitched copper roofs and even a couple of towers adjoined the intimidating brick building.
But it wasn’t only the majesty of the building that had us reeling.
“Shit,” Cliff murmured, a note of awe in his hoarse voice as I cautiously brought the car closer.
The trees on either side of the road seemed to morph before our very eyes with vibrant hues—golds and silver pine needles that glittered brighter than the stars. Cheerful birdsong chimed around us in nearly human melodies.
Gemstone-altered.
A few cars were parked at the entrance, guests being received by a crew of valets and bellhops with luggage. I pulled the car off to the side of the entryway and found coverage amongst the trees before slamming it into park.
Silence wrapped around us like a heavy cloud, each of us exchanging looks that were equal measures of relief and what the fuck is happening? Sylvia’s guidance may have gotten us through the barrier, but an unnerving sensation settled in my bones as a reminder that we were intruders.
As though to confirm this, the GPS spoke up in its usual cheerful voice: You have arrived. Your blood will water these grounds.
“Jesus,” I muttered, closing the app.
I threw my door open and braced myself to face the bite of winter air. Except, it wasn’t cold. Sharing a bewildered look with Sylvia, I climbed out of the car.
The gentle breeze that swept between the trees was more like the first brush of spring.
The entire forest surrounding the hotel seemed affected by a gem’s influence, the same way we’d seen outside of Veloria.
Proud firs were choked by colorful flowers.
Vines snaked over the ground, cutting over parts of the road.
Several clusters of brush grew in strange patterns like they were trying to take on a humanoid form as they climbed toward the sky.
Painfully beautiful. Wonderfully unsettling.
But the guests we could glimpse between the trees paid it no mind. The staff gladly loaded their luggage onto gilded carts, waving them into the vast lobby. Either they couldn’t see the insane marvels of nature right across from them, or they didn’t care. Neither sat well.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Cliff groaned, leaning down to inspect the long gouges penetrating the car’s paint on the passenger’s side.
He pushed his hands through his hair, expression tightening with the frustration of wanting to kick something, with no viable target in reach.
“Look at this. Hannah’s gonna kill us, and we’ll deserve it. Fuck.”
“At least we’re alive,” Sylvia offered, shooting him a look.
Cliff only grunted, still touching the scratches like he might be able to will the car to repair itself if he stared long enough.
I walked around to see for myself, crouching to trace the scratches delicately. A chill crept down my spine as I thought about how tempted I’d been to send us right into the valley. Any glamour wards that threatened to overpower my fear of heights couldn’t be taken lightly.
“You good?” Cliff asked, eyeing me with concern.
I pushed back to my feet, facing him. “I’m fine,” I muttered. “Any longer, and we might’ve…”
“It’s here.” Sylvia’s soft voice was as jarring as if she’d screamed.
We paused, regarding her. Her flight was eerily still, her shoulders tensed under her long-sleeved blouse. She hovered a few feet above us as though her mind was far away from the act of controlling her wings.
I’d seen that distant look on her face before.
The gem was calling to her. No longer miles away.
I couldn’t fathom how potent its beckon must be.
She started to tremble like she had her finger on a trigger.
I took a tentative step closer, glancing between her and the brightly lit entryway that yawned a few hundred feet above.
There were fewer guests now. Valets were busy driving cars away. Bellhops were occupied with luggage.
The opening was painted before her like a gift—and she was tense, as though knowing she had seconds before the opportunity was lost.
“Sylv,” I whispered, taking another slow step closer, worried I’d spook her into action.
She looked over her shoulder at me, her pretty face a mask of pleading.
“Find me inside,” she said.
My stomach dropped. I lunged forward, not sure if I meant to grab her or only to block her path, but it didn’t matter. My fingers closed around empty air. She shot away in a blur of iridescent wings, making a rapid arc toward the wide doors as she dodged any eyes that might notice her.
Cursing, I tore after her.