Chapter Four #2
I threw up a hand. “Sorry, it didn’t come up in conversation between ‘hey, how are you’ and ‘maybe a demon tried to kill me.’” I leaned in, lowering my voice. “Was Alice in trouble?”
He toyed with his fork, jaw tense. “I’ll tell you what I know. It isn’t much. There’s something… magical about Hickory Hollow. Something Alice was involved with in the woods.”
“The woods?” I echoed. “What’s in the woods?”
He glanced around the restaurant like he expected a demon to pop out from behind the salsa bar, then leaned closer until our faces were only inches apart.
“Have you ever heard of ley lines?” he asked.
“Sure. Vaguely. Lines of energy, sacred sites, England, Stonehenge, all that. But that’s more New Age blog than science class.”
His mouth twitched. “Someone was paying attention in something.”
We were too close. His eyes were a soft gray storm and for a second, I forgot why we were whispering about magical geography. My pulse stuttered. A nervous giggle bubbled up and escaped before I could smother it.
Then I realized we were practically sharing air.
I sat back fast. So did he. I fidgeted with my napkin. He rearranged his silverware like it had personally offended him.
The waitress arrived then to take our order. When she was off with our selections, he continued.
“This is going to be hard to explain,” he said finally. “Mostly because I don’t have all the pieces. What I do know is… sketchy.” He reached for a chip, dipped it in the salsa. “You know what I like about this hot sauce? The cilantro and the onion chunks. You can tell it’s fresh.”
I glared. “Do not change the subject, McAllister.”
He sighed, set the chip down, and leaned in again, every trace of humor gone. “There’s a hickory tree in the woods north of town. A big one. Old. That’s where the ley lines converge.”
He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Piper… they’re magical.”
I stared at him for a long beat, waiting for the punch line. “That’s a good one. I believed you for a second.”
His expression didn’t budge. No smirk, no twitch, nothing.
Something cold slid through my stomach.
Because Owen never joked like this. Not about serious things. Not with that look in his eyes—steady, intent, worried.
And worse… some small, traitorous part of me didn’t want him to laugh.
“Oh God,” I whispered. “You’re serious.”
He nodded once.
The margarita turned to sludge in my stomach.
Before I could ask my next question, the waitress returned with our food. But I’d suddenly lost my appetite.
“How does a magical tree equal demon attack?” I asked.
“It’s the hub,” he said. “They call it the… supernatural superhighway.”
“That is the worst name I’ve ever heard.”
“I didn’t name it,” he said dryly. “But that’s what it is. A portal. Or a junction. Or something. Your aunt—Alice—was the Guardian. Her job was to keep the gate closed and the bad things out.”
Aunt Alice. With her gentle hands and dirt under her nails and stories about other lands told in the twilight.
A guardian.
“Portal,” I repeated faintly. “Like… to where?”
“Whatever’s on the other side,” he said. “Other realms. Other dimensions. Places not here. I don’t know. All I know is, every day she brewed a potion using flowers she grew herself. Then she’d go to the tree and use it to reinforce the barrier. Keep the evil out. Keep the gate sealed.”
Other realms. The words slotted too easily into the memory of Alice’s stories. Woods that whispered. Castles under starlight. Borders thin as glass.
“How do you know all this?” I asked.
Owen hesitated, then reached across the table and closed his hand around mine. His fingers were warm, solid, anchoring.
“Because my dad was helping her,” he said. “They met at the shop. A lot. Behind closed doors. At first, I thought they were having an affair—”
I almost choked. Alice and Mr. McAllister having an affair was so absurd my brain refused to picture it.
“—but it wasn’t that,” Owen continued. “It was this. The tree. The ley lines. The gate. She needed help. He’s… he knows things. Old things. He said Crossroads work attracts the wrong attention. The kind that doesn’t stay buried.”
“Well that sounds ominous.” I didn’t like it at all.
He nodded agreement. “He was the one who told me about the demon, about how the wards worked, about what could happen if they failed.”
Cold prickles raced over my skin. “Like demons showing up at the flower shop asking where Alice is.”
“Exactly.” He squeezed my hand gently. “You said you thought she was murdered.”
I nodded.
“I think so, too, Piper. And I think my dad might know why.”
I drew in a slow breath, the restaurant noise fading to a dull roar in my ears. Murder. Magic. Portals. Demons. Fairies. Hickory Hollow wasn’t weird. It was… connected. To what, I still didn’t know. But I could feel it now—a hum under my skin, like standing too close to a live wire.
“I think,” I said carefully, “we need to go see your dad.”
Owen nodded, eyes steady on mine. “He’ll have more answers than I do. We can go after lunch.”
I looked down at my untouched enchiladas. My appetite had fled somewhere between demon and portal. I slid the plate away.
“Good,” I said. “Because I’m done pretending this is normal.”