Chapter 13
Ophelia landed on her face in a snowbank.
She spat the icy crystals from her mouth and wiped them from her eyes, blinking.
The soles of her feet throbbed in time with her pulse, the left one blinding her with agony.
She shook her head to clear her vision, trying to get her bearings.
Tall conifers and leafless trees stood around her, and the mid-day sun shone down from above. Where the fuck…
“See? I told you we weren’t trapped.” Jena grimaced, a hand on her abdomen as she panted, leaning against a boulder not far away.
Damn, she looked like she’d been through the wringer.
Her matted hair sparkled with glass shards, and her jacket was partially melted.
She tried to zip it and gave up, wrapping it around herself.
Soot streaked over her from head to toe, and her face was speckled with blood.
Ophelia rolled onto her rear, wincing at the trail of gore from her foot and glanced behind her.
Nothing but scrubby brush and snow-filled woods.
She picked out pieces of glass embedded in her soles, taking a deep breath before yanking out the long, jagged sliver.
It slid free with a wash of blood. Ophelia tossed it aside, frowning at the gash. That was gonna be a problem.
“How did we get here?” she asked, trying to ignore the dread creeping up her spine.
Jena ignored her. The way the witch was staring at the wound, she thought it was gonna be an issue, too. “Are you okay?”
“Hmm? Oh yeah, it’ll be fine in a minute. Now answer the question.”
“You better not be bullshitting me with more of that mystique.”
Ophelia held up a hand, trying not to tremble. “Scout’s honor.”
Jena didn’t look like she believed her, but let it go.
“That mirror was a one-way portal. I’m more curious why it dumped us out on my family’s property.
The node’s about a mile and a half in that direction,” she said, lifting her chin to the west. “My mom had to have known about that tunnel,” she murmured to herself, shivering as she rubbed her arms.
Ophelia didn’t care. She pressed a handful of snow over her sluggishly knitting flesh, the virus rapidly depleting her reserves. “Is Chambers out here?”
Jena nodded, then grimaced as she got to her feet. “The compass seems to think so, and I’m pretty sure those are his tracks. They look fresh.” She pointed to a trail of something.
If she said so. Ophelia had no idea what weasel tracks looked like, never mind fresh ones.
“Something must’ve tipped him off that we’re after him,” Jena murmured. “If he’d been up here, Matilda would’ve been able to get a lock on him.” She sucked in a breath as Ophelia stood, hobbling. “Wow, you really look like shit. Are you sure you’re okay?”
She waved the witch’s concern away. “Yeah, I’m fine, and pot, meet kettle. Chase is gonna freak when he sees you.”
“Well, at least I’m not turning blue and bleeding to death.” Jena frowned, picking glass out of her hair.
“Pretty sure there’s still time for that,” Ophelia muttered. Even if they got to the ruins, it was one hell of a walk back to town. “You have your phone, right? You should call someone to come get us.”
“Don’t you have yours?”
“Nope. Just cigarettes and a flask in this baby,” Ophelia said, patting her purse. “You know, the essentials. Besides, who the hell am I gonna call?”
Jena looked at her like she was an idiot. “How can you not have a phone? Don’t you need to make work calls or something? Answer emails?”
“Town hall has a computer and a land line.” Ophelia shrugged.
“You are so weird.” Jena scowled. “I’m not calling Chase until we find Chambers. After going through all that, the last thing I wanna hear is ‘I told you so,’ and if you’re fine to walk—” Ophelia rolled her eyes and Jena’s narrowed. “What? I told Chase we can do this, and we can.”
“I don’t doubt that, but figured you might want to avoid frostbite.”
“Wait, I might want to avoid frostbite?” the witch scoffed. “At least I have a coat and shoes. You’re practically naked out here. Do you really not feel the cold, or is that more stupid vampire mystique?”
“Mystique,” Ophelia admitted, her teeth chattering. “I feel it, but it’s not like I’m gonna die from it.” That box had been long since checked.
“Could’ve fooled me.” Jena’s brows furrowed. Ugh, there was that fucking pity again. Then— “What can kill a vampire?”
“Why, you thinking of gift ideas?” Ophelia snapped.
“My birthday’s not until November, but if you must know, the stake thing is legit and so is fire.
Technically, bleeding out will do it too, but it takes a good week, week and a half, for the virus to die off completely—don’t ask me how I know. Oh! And beheading.”
“Lovely,” Jena murmured. She flipped up the hood on her jacket and started walking in the direction she said Chambers was in.
Ophelia limped after her, the ankle-deep snow absolute torture after the warm muck they’d been walking through.
No. She wouldn’t die from the cold, but between that and the slice on her foot, things were getting dicey.
The virus was burning through her reserves of blood faster than was advisable to keep her corpse upright.
She eyed Jena. Probably best not to mention it.
Ophelia pulled her flask from her purse, downing the scant mouthful that was left.
It just made her hungrier.
Great. So much for that. She wrapped her arms around herself and trudged after the witch.
The woods here were silent, but not in a creepy way.
Just peaceful. Calm. The crunching of Jena’s boots.
A light breeze rattling the icy tree branches.
Ophelia shivered and looked down, watching where she was walking since she couldn’t feel her feet anymore.
Silver lining there. She focused on staying in the path Jena had rucked up and not the scent of blood drifting in the witch’s wake.
“So, you did it for him?” she asked, pushing back the side of her hood to glance over her shoulder at Ophelia.
“Did what?”
“Became a vampire. To stay with Gideon.”
“Yeah.” Ophelia frowned, not wanting to talk about it. Especially after that kiss. Her insides warmed. She’d been too busy to process it when they’d been in the Below, but out here, there was nothing to do but think. “Why?”
Jena shrugged. “It’s really romantic.”
“Um, no, it was really stupid,” Ophelia snorted. “Vampirism is zero stars, would not recommend.” And walking through the woods alone with a hungry one was a close second. Stop it, Phe. It’s just a mental thing. As long as you don’t start hearing shit, you’re fine.
“Well, yeah, I can see how that part sucks,” Jena said, looking over her shoulder again, “but the fact that you gave up your mortality for him…you must really love him.”
“I did. I do, I just…” Ophelia chewed her lips. “I’m not the same person.”
“I’m gonna guess he isn’t either. The man’s obviously devoted to you.
It must’ve killed him when you— Shit.” Jena grabbed Ophelia’s arm and crouched down behind an outcropping of stone with a finger to her lips.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before peeking around the rock and slapping a hand over her mouth.
Ophelia wriggled beside her, not focusing on how appetizing the witch smelled.
Down in the hollow below them was small pond.
On the bank closest to them, a dark-haired man crouched inside a circle of bone white trees.
Atop the rock in front of him was a weasel, and Ophelia would be damned if it didn’t look like they were talking. Shit, that had to be Chambers.
The man threw his head back and laughed, then his hand snaked out, and he grasped the creature as it tried to bolt. It frantically thrashed in his grasp—
A sharp crack echoed through the icy woods.
The man tossed the weasel’s body to the side. He stood, then looked directly at them, and smiled before he disappeared.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” No way had she just spent the last few hours tracking down that piece of shit just to see him killed.
“Who the fuck was that?” Ophelia asked, her gaze fixed on their key witness’s lifeless body and her stomach roiling.
“For real. Tell me I didn’t just see Chambers get murdered. ”
“Oh, it happened.” Jena swallowed heavily, her eyes wide. “And the guy who killed him was my father.”
Gideon thumped down the steps of the bed and breakfast scowling.
Not only was it entirely too close to the ocean, but he refused to occupy a space that smelled like last week’s catch.
It was little wonder Ophelia had declined the lodgings.
He scrubbed a hand over his face and climbed back into Chase’s truck, regretting not driving himself.
It wasn’t that the man was unpleasant, he was actually far more palatable than the town’s scrawny mayor.
Gideon largely attributed that to the scant amount of verbiage that left the hulking were’s lips.
However, what had issued from them Gideon wasn’t overly impressed with, and there was something about Chase Montgomery and his bride that niggled.
“No go?” Chase asked, throwing his truck into reverse.
“No.” Gideon grunted, drumming his fingers on the armrest. “It was far too…provincial.”
The big man snorted. “You know, there is one other place you could try. Havers’s church isn’t doing so hot after Father Pearson passed, and the trustees are looking to sell the vicarage.
I don’t think it’s hit the market yet, but I just finished up a job there, and it’s a solid place.
” He glanced at Gideon. “I mean, if living next door to a cemetery doesn’t creep you out. ”
Gideon snorted. “Considering my intended is technically dead, I wouldn’t say that’s an issue. The effluvia of rotting fish, however, is.”
“You should smell it at low tide,” Chase laughed.
“I’ll pass, thank you.”
“Do you want to check it out? The vicarage, I mean?”