Chapter 7 Monsters and Magic
MONSTERS AND MAGIC
Griffin clears his throat. “We’ll discuss what the alarm meant, but let’s stop here for a moment and go over what’s going to happen, because we’re nearly to Mysthaven.”
The woods have grown thicker, the towering trees pressing in on either side. I’ve lost track of time again.
“There will be three guards,” Griffin continues.
“It’s imperative you two remain calm and go with what we tell them.
” He pulls up his sleeve and stares at the mark on his arm as though it’s something sacred before he takes a breath and fishes a black pen out of his pocket.
His blue gaze flicks to mine, and he swallows.
His eyes and angular jaw are quickly becoming two dangerous obsessions.
“Outside Mysthaven, we’ll have to cover the imprint using a rune.
” He rubs the pen with his thumb, then traces it across the inside of his wrist, drawing a detailed image that burns a deep shade of green against his skin before it slowly fades, becoming another tattoo among the existing maze of ink.
“I need you to place your left thumb against it,” he instructs.
It feels like a joke, a trick, but after everything today, I’m pretty confident it’s neither. He presses his thumb against the mark and waits for me to do the same.
His pulse jumps under my touch—or maybe it’s mine—but the imprint fades, defying another law of reality.
Griffin passes the pen to Daire, who repeats the exact image before he extends his arm toward me.
I study the imprint, then the rune, willing myself to ignore the inexplicable urge to refuse touching it.
“I don’t like it, either, Spitfire,” Daire says, “but since you’re not supposed to exist, we need to ensure no one knows about this yet.” He presses his thumb against his wrist, and to prove I don’t have reservations, I do the same.
The line fades entirely, and Daire returns the pen to Griffin. “It’s just a half mile more.”
We walk in silence until we reach a covered booth set before a massive gate that soars high into the sky, stretching wider than a two-lane road, framed by thick, ivy-covered stone.
Daire and Griffin shift, one on each side of me, as we approach.
The three guards waiting outside look ready for battle—two men and a woman, each armed with a large sword across their backs.
“Bryxtonians love their broadswords,” Scarlet whispers as Daire greets the guards with a nod.
One of the men—tall, broad-shouldered, with a friendly smile and curly dark hair—takes us in, then looks behind us. “Did something happen? Where are the gliders?”
“They’re in town,” Daire says.
Humor flashes across the man’s face. “I feel like I should be asking you twenty questions to verify your identity.”
Daire lifts his middle finger, proving the list of universal similarities is vast. “I’ll make you walk to get them if you’re not careful, Vorian.”
Vorian barks a laugh, clearly used to exchanging insults.
The woman’s blue gaze lingers on Griffin, drinking him in like he’s the last drop of water in existence.
I hate that I notice. Hate how it has me grinding my teeth.
Griffin inhales sharply, his fists clenching.
When I glance back at the woman, she drags her gaze away, shifting to Scarlet.
Daire clears his throat. “This is Scarlet Ravelle, our new assistant healer. She was hired a few weeks ago but had some scheduling conflicts. This is her cousin, Brielle Breslin. The two will be moving into Mysthaven. I’ll send their information to set up keys and access points this evening.”
“She might need to start tonight.” Vorian reaches forward and presses something. “I was asked to let you know that Kai would be...” His gaze slips to mine and then to Scarlet before returning to Daire. “Hunting.”
Griffin swears as Daire’s fists clench. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
Vorian steps back, and the clink of metal sounds, and the large gates slowly open.
Griffin moves so close that his biceps brush my shoulder as we walk. Eucalyptus, mint, and the crisp bite of winter fill my lungs. “No matter what happens—don’t run. Don’t leave my side.” His blue eyes lock with mine.
“Because Kai is hunting.” It’s meant to be a question, but I’m pretty sure I already know the answer because this is the second time I’ve been told not to run since coming here.
Griffin nods once.
“What is he hunting?” I ask, noticing how Griffin’s gaze flickers at every noise.
He doesn’t answer, and when I glance at Daire, it’s evident they don’t plan on telling me.
Awesome.
The path is too wide to be a driveway, but there are no markings to suggest it’s a road, and the armed booth and gate only add to my growing list of questions. “What is this place? A community? A hotel?”
The trees on either side of the road stretch so tall that they nearly look as though they’re rooted in both the ground and the sky, shading the road.
Mysteriously, the air warms, though it should be getting colder.
My thoughts drift to the senior trip to California that my then-best friend Katie and I had planned and never took.
We were supposed to drive up the coast and stop at the Redwoods before turning back home.
Instead, we changed our plans and followed her crush to Vegas.
“What are you thinking about?” Griffin asks.
I glance at him before admitting, “I was wondering if these trees are as tall as the Redwoods.”
He blinks and then shakes his head. “Daire and Scarlet might know, but I’ve never been to Earth.”
I want to ask if he was born here, if he has siblings, and if they’re close.
I want to ask about his parents and traditions, but all of those seem invasive and like guaranteed pathways to form attachments, and the very last thing I need is to have attachments when I have no idea if I trust or even like these guys.
Scarlet shakes her head. “I never went.”
“Me neither,” Daire adds.
“I bet these are bigger,” I say.
We walk for a few more minutes in silence.
“This wasn’t how I expected my day to go,” Scarlet says.
Both men laugh—genuinely, easily—and for some godforsaken reason, my heart clenches because their smiles are directed at her.
I pinch myself again to feel the pain and ensure I’m not hallucinating this alternative world where my heart and body are reacting to virtual strangers who have twin tattoos that they claim appeared because of me.
It’s crazy.
I’m crazy.
Maybe I’m still in prison.
Maybe I never was in prison.
A shimmer catches my eye.
I suck in a breath as my gaze snaps to the woods—to a fawn with icicle-like antlers, glinting faintly, that look too heavy for its frail body.
A dark, inky, unnatural substance moves behind it, like liquid smoke. It shifts through the trees, staining everything it crosses black with death.
A vine shrivels. A branch rots. A patch of vibrant pink wildflowers turns to dust.
The fawn bleats pitifully, its cornflower-blue eyes locking on mine.
Before reason can find its voice and remind me that I have no idea what I’m doing or how I’ll be able to protect the deer, I’m running.
Someone shouts my name, but I am already sprinting into the shadowed woods. The temperature plummets as I tear through the trees, both recognizable and not. Everything is covered in frozen moss and snow, making it feel like I’ve entered yet another world.
I leap over downed trees, dormant plants, and rocks, pushing through branches and vines that scratch and bruise me, issuing silent warnings about what I’m running toward.
What in the hell am I doing? I have no weapons, no plan—but stopping isn’t an option.
My focus locks on the baby deer and the black mass edging closer to it.
I yell—a desperate attempt to startle the deer or the monster—preferably both.
The deer throws its head up, its glacial eyes locking with mine once more. Its icy antlers seem to shiver. Then, before I can blink, the tiny, innocent, frail fawn stretches and twists. A crack echoes, making my gut lurch, and the fawn is gone.
In its place stands a massive white wolf, taller than me, with canines flashing like knives.
I skid to a stop so fast I nearly fall forward. Snow and dirt catch under my nails, the forest scents pungent as I catch myself.
My lungs protest, burning from the sprint, as I stare at the wolf in front of me with absolute disbelief and a deep underlying fear that wraps itself around my heart.
The wolf paws at the ground as it lowers its head, but before it can spring, I turn and take off running in the direction of the road, in the direction of Daire and Griffin, who are mere feet behind me.
“Go! Go!” I yell.
Neither listens, charging toward me. Without slowing, Griffin’s body morphs before my eyes—the crack of bones followed by an explosion of feathers and fur.
One moment, he’s a man—the next, a monstrous, beautiful force of talons and fury.
He’s massive with a lion’s body and eagle wings that take out the smaller trees like chainsaws as he sprints past us, colliding with the wolf like a battering ram.
The two impossibly large animals roll and snarl, snapping at each other with teeth and claws that have fear consuming me.
“Not so fast, Spitfire,” Daire says, catching my wrist, drawing my attention to the fact that I’ve moved closer to the fight.
“He—” My breath shatters. “He’s going to get himself killed.”
Daire releases an irritated sigh, and then darkness leaks out of him. It moves like a mist, crawling over the forest, stretching, wrapping, swallowing everything in its path before curling around the creatures, blanketing them in an inky void. The growls cut off. The thrashing stops.
Silence.
A pit opens in my stomach.
“What are you doing? Don’t—” I shove against his hold again, but it’s like pushing against a stone wall. “Let me go. Griffin!” My heart aches for a loss that wasn’t even mine.