Red - A Paranormal Fairy Tale (Fairy Tale Reboot Book 1) Page 3

  Before they could catch up to me and break my heart all over again.

  Chapter 5

  The refreshing sleep I’d been hoping for never happened. The bed was comfortable enough, and the room was clean, cozy, and cool. There was even a TV with a few movie channels, and a normal phone with buttons on the bedside table next to the alarm clock. But after a few hours of tossing and turning, I gave up and climbed out of bed.

  Ryan Gosling there probably would’ve been thrilled to know I wasn’t enjoying my stay.

  I decided on a quick shower that turned into a long one, because the water felt so good. By the time I was out, dried, and dressed, it was three in the morning. And I definitely wasn’t sleepy, but I was starving.

  I hadn’t brought any food. Why would I? I’d expected to stay at a nice village inn with nice village staff—not a deserted building at the edge of a howling forest, run by an angry lunatic who took off and left his guests alone. And there weren’t any 24-hour diners or takeout restaurants in Gate’s Hollow, so I couldn’t go out and grab something to eat.

  Well, the big bear was gone. So I’d just raid the kitchen.

  I made my way downstairs, where the silence lay thicker than ever. Now that I knew something really was out there in the forest, it was harder than ever to resist taking off for Nana’s right this minute. I hated to think of her lying weak and defenseless in her cottage, alone in the dark. But Mom was right—I’d have to wait until morning. I couldn’t save Nana if I got myself killed by that howling thing. Animal or presence, whatever it was, it sounded hungry.

  After I poked around for what felt like forever, I finally found the kitchen behind a swinging wooden door. There was nothing old-fashioned about this room. Gleaming appliances, gleaming countertops, an almost antiseptic feel. The nonexistent maids must work hard in here. I couldn’t imagine the man I’d met earlier scrubbing anything, so maybe he never used this room.

  I opened the fridge and inventoried the contents. There wasn’t much in there. Just as I was deciding whether I wanted eggs and more eggs, a bread sandwich, or a look through the cupboards to find something better, there was a tremendous bang from the direction of the front door.

  The bear was back.

  Indecision kept me rooted in place. I could stay here and say to hell with you when he found me, or go out and pretend I’d gotten lost looking for the ice machine. Then I heard slow, heavy steps and a muffled groan—followed by another thud that sounded a lot like a big man dropping to the floor.

  I told myself it was sheer human instinct that made me run out to help. Before I had time to consider that maybe whatever happened to him had followed him home, I was already in the lobby.

  He was alone. And bleeding.

  “Oh, damn.” I went to the crumpled heap, whose progress from the door had been marked by a trail of blood. “Hey, um, what happened?” I said, and decided I’d try to lighten the mood. “Did you fall off your horse or something?”

  He raised his head slowly. His hood had been pushed back—and the eyes that glared daggers at me were a deep, startling blue.

  In that instant I had the craziest thought. I imagined this guy was a magic user, and he’d killed Elias and stolen his eyes. But the idea left just as fast. I was pretty sure no one could do that, and besides, the color wasn’t right. They were too dark, too full of rage. And a lot of people had blue eyes. Still, the sight of them gave me a nasty shock.

  “I’m fine.” Moving faster than he should’ve been able to, he rolled away and struggled to his feet. “Don’t know how you got here so fast,” he said with a gasp. “But if you’re nosing around down here, stop.”

  I almost walked away without another word, until he wavered in place and fell to one knee.

  “Oh, yeah. You’re fine.” I went over and wedged myself under one massive arm, putting my own around his waist. Heat radiated from him like a furnace. “We’re going to the couch,” I said. “Ready?”

  “Don’t help me.”

  I ignored him. Despite his protest, he came up with me when I lifted, and shuffled along to the nearest couch. I deposited him as gently as I could. “Let’s see what we’ve got,” I said, and started moving his cloak out of the way.

  He snatched the fabric. “Don’t.”

  “Fine!” I said. “Bleed to death, then.”

  “I’m not going to—” He closed his eyes, and his fierce features relaxed gradually. “I’ll do it. Okay?”

  I gave a curt nod. If I spoke, it was likely to be some unpleasant words.

  He straightened with a grimace and undid the clasp at his throat, then pushed the cloak from his broad shoulders. The shirt beneath was torn away from one of them, and tacky blood coated the visible skin. Another rip across his stomach revealed a long, jagged cut. The left leg of his pants had been ripped off below the knee, and a deep gash oozed blood down his shin.

  I sucked in a quick breath. “Okay. Bandages?”

  “Over there.” He waved a vague hand. “First-aid kit under the counter. Big green box.”

  “Right.” I crossed to the counter, wishing I’d brought my own kit. Or that I’d paid more attention to Mom while she taught me how to make healing potions. I’d always been a little impatient—okay, a lot impatient—with stuff like timing and measuring and mixing. I preferred takeout and frozen dinners to cooking…and spells to potions.

  From now on, I was going to make a serious effort to be a better witch.

  I found a green metal tackle box on the bottom shelf under the counter and brought it back to the couch, where my reluctant host sat with his eyes closed and his head leaned back, drawing careful breaths. The man looked a little less bear-like without his cloak. Not much, though. He was still big and shaggy and mean, even with his injuries.

  He groaned and shifted. His head turned, and I saw something on the side of his neck. Right around the same place the guy I’d met on the airplane, Jack, had the crescent moon tattoo. But that wasn’t a moon, and it wasn’t ink.

  I reached out to brush his hair aside for a better look—and he snagged my wrist so fast, I didn’t even see him move. His eyes were still closed.

  My heart pounded hard enough to feel it in my ears. I was pretty sure what I’d seen were runes burned into his flesh. That was not a good sign. Only the most powerful magic-users did that—and it wasn’t usually for things like making rainbows prettier or promoting world peace.

  With a jolt, I realized he still had hold of my wrist. “You can let go now,” I said with as much calm as I could manage.

  His fingers relaxed gradually. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t.” I pulled my hand away and tried to look like a normal sort of angry. I couldn’t let him know I was suspicious. If I was right about him, he probably wouldn’t take it well. “I guess if you’re strong enough to jerk me around, you can bandage yourself.”

  He only stared at me. For a second I thought he looked sorry, but it must’ve been a trick of the light or something.

  “Look. I paid to stay here, so I’m going to fix myself something to eat in the kitchen,” I said. “And then I’m leaving.” It was less than two hours until sunrise. I figured if he was the thing terrorizing the forest, he looked about done for the night. I’d keep an eye on him, make sure he stayed inside, and then get to Nana. She’d know what to do.

  “Good.” He snagged the tackle box and stood, a little unsteadily. It was all I could do not to shrink back from his towering form. “Take your shiny little car and go back to whatever shiny big city you came from. I don’t know how you heard about this place, but you shouldn’t be here.” He brushed past me and kept walking. “I’ve got enough to do without some…woman in the way.”

  I couldn’t help myself. “Some woman?”

  He stopped. “I was going to say pushy, stuck-up city woman. Thought I’d be nice and leave that first part out.”

  “I’m not—” I choked off the rest, before I could say a city woman. No way could I let him
find out who I was now.

  He glanced back at me with raised eyebrows. “You’re not what?”

  “Stuck up,” I said. “What I am is a paying customer.”

  He turned away, shaking his head. “Whatever you say. Ms. Roberts.”

  I couldn’t think of anything else to say, so I watched him circle the counter, open the door behind it, and go inside whatever was back there. He didn’t slam the door this time.

  I actually took a few steps in that direction with the vague idea that I should apologize. Now that he wasn’t right in front of me, all big and threatening, I could see my “suspicions” were pretty far-fetched. I hadn’t seen the markings on his neck clearly. And even if they were runes, that didn’t automatically make him an evil warlock. I had to stop assuming things about this guy.

  I’d drifted right up to the counter without paying attention. That was when I realized the cash still lay where I’d dropped it on top of the ledger, completely untouched. So much for being a paying customer.

  But I had been pushy and stuck up.

  With a sigh, I headed for the kitchen. I’d stick to the plan and come back to apologize after I saw Nana. Even if he didn’t accept it, at least I’d know I tried.

  Chapter 6

  Dawn took forever to arrive. I passed the time in Room Three worrying about Nana, avoiding thoughts of the bear downstairs, and wondering what happened to Jack. I’d never asked him how he planned to get to the village, just to make sure the subject of riding together didn’t come up. If he’d rented a car too, and he didn’t know anyone here, he probably would’ve tried to stay at the inn. There weren’t any Motel Sixes around here.

  But he could’ve stayed overnight in Watertown and planned to drive out this morning. Or maybe he’d arranged to stay with Brewster Jones. Wherever he was, I probably wouldn’t see him again.

  I knew I should’ve asked for his number.

  Eventually, the sun deigned to haul itself out of bed and brighten the horizon. I grabbed my bag and the room key, which I intended to leave on the ledger with the money, and headed downstairs. There was no sign of life in the main room. That didn’t surprise me. And the door behind the counter was locked—also not a shocker.

  It did surprise me that I’d tried it, though. Another thrilling conversation with Mr. Gosling was not on my to-do list this morning.

  I left the key and slipped outside, headed for the rental car. The walk to Nana’s had taken about half an hour when I was a kid and had shorter legs, so I figured I could do it in twenty now. I took what I needed out of my bag and tossed the rest in the back seat. Then, protection cloak donned and basket in hand, I headed across the rolling back lawn of the inn toward the forest path.

  As I drew closer, I noticed a tall figure standing at the path’s entrance.

  I slowed and glanced back at the inn, which was still in plain view. No way could the big bear have gotten past me and into the forest. But all the villagers were supposed to be afraid to go in there, so who did that leave?

  Just as I started looking for a big rock to throw, the figure raised an arm in an exaggerated wave, and a voice called, “Aurora! Is that you?”

  I squinted. “Jack?”

  He’d started toward me, and I could make him out now. Definitely the hot guy from the plane. Black hoodie, black backpack, a big smile on his face. He carried something green and white in one hand, and soon I realized they were flowers—but not any variety I’d ever seen.

  “Hey there.” He stopped in front of me and smirked. “Nice cloak, Red. Are you going to Grandma’s house or something?”

  My jaw must’ve dropped a foot before I caught on. In this getup, I looked straight out of Little Red Riding Hood, basket and all. “Ha ha,” I said, and changed the subject. “What are you doing out here?”

  “I like to get a feel for the places I visit.” He shrugged. “Plus, I’m an early riser. Did you stay there last night?” he said, gesturing toward the inn.

  “Yes.” I decided not to elaborate on my experiences there. “How about you?”

  “Well, this is embarrassing, but…” He leaned in and said in a stage whisper, “I pulled into a rest stop on the way here, and fell asleep in the car. So I just got into town an hour ago. Pretty lame, right?”

  “Not if you’ve never flown before. It’s exhausting.” I smiled. “Those flowers are…interesting.”

  “What? Oh, these.” He held them up. “They’re moondrops. Check ’em out.”

  I looked. The petals were broad at the base and tapered to points at the end. Each one curved out and back in, with the points meeting at the top to form delicate balls. Tiny gaps between the petals revealed cloud-like pistils trapped in the centers. The blossoms were so white, they appeared to glow with inner light. “They’re beautiful,” I finally said.

  “In that case, they’re yours.” He presented them with a flourish.

  A blush heated my face as I accepted them. I managed not to say anything gushy and stupid, like no one’s ever given me flowers before—even though it was true. “Thank you,” I said instead, and tucked them into the basket with the cake and elixir.

  He grinned. “You know, there’s a lot more of them in the woods. They’re right off the path. You could make a really nice bouquet for someone.”

  My brain suddenly seized on the important part of all this. “You were actually in the forest?” I said.

  “Sure. I like the woods.”

  “And you didn’t notice anything…strange.”

  “No.” His brow furrowed. “Should I have?”

  “I guess not,” I said slowly. At once I wondered who’d told Mom that everyone was afraid of the forest. It couldn’t have been Nana. She was too sick to get to the village. Maybe what I’d heard last night had just been a coyote, or somebody’s dog, and my mind turned it into something sinister because of the warnings. “Well, I’d better get going,” I said.

  “Where are you headed?”

  I decided to stick with the joke. “Grandma’s house.”

  “Watch out for the big, bad wolf.” He winked. “Maybe I’ll see you in town later?”

  “Maybe.”

  We went our separate ways, and I felt a little better about the trip through the forest. Jack hadn’t said anything about eternal night or monsters. I still planned to be cautious, because something had gone after the big bear from the inn—but he’d been out here at night. It could’ve been a coyote, maybe a timber wolf. I hadn’t asked many questions once he made it clear that help wasn’t wanted.

  The path seemed normal to me. A little rougher than I remembered, with scattered twigs and leaves, and the occasional root jutting from the well-worn earth like gnarled bone. But it was easily visible. Rays of early morning sunlight filtered through the trees and played bright spotlights across the ground. Everything was peaceful and still.

  Too still, I realized with a start. The only sounds came from my feet when I crunched through dried leaves. And the farther I walked, the weaker the light grew, until full dark pulled a curtain across the day.

  My steps slowed, but I didn’t stop. A little darkness wasn’t going to keep me from Nana—and the sudden anger that whoever reported this to Mom had been right only fueled my resolve. So much for an easy walk. Jack must not have come down this far, because this definitely counted as strange.

  I didn’t know any spells for making light, but I did have some magic in my pocket. My phone. Of course, there was zero reception up here, but I didn’t need a signal for the flashlight app. I dug it out and turned it on. The square of brilliance cut through the dark like a laser, and I directed it toward the path and kept going.

  I must’ve been walking for ten minutes or so when I spotted a glimmer of light ahead. Hopefully it meant this weird darkness would end. But when I got closer, I realized the light was coming from the ground—it was a thick patch of moondrops, just off the path. Like Jack had said.

  Only he hadn’t mentioned the whole night forest in the daytime thing.<
br />
  I stopped next to the flower patch and thought back to the conversation with Jack. For some reason, it was hard to remember. We’d talked about where we spent the night, and he’d called me Red and teased me about Grandma’s house. But it was only a joke. He said he liked the woods. Hadn’t noticed anything strange. And…

  Somehow, it was getting darker. I glanced at my phone. The light was dimming, but I knew that didn’t have anything to do with whatever had created the false night out here. It was totally non-magical.

  My battery was dying. During the disaster that was last night, I hadn’t even thought about charging it.

  “Damn it!” I looked from the fading phone to the moondrops, which still gave off a steady glow. I could pick a bunch and use them to light my way. The patch was only ten steps or so from the path. And besides, Nana would love a bouquet of fresh flowers.

  From a far corner of my mind, a gibbering and panicked voice screamed that I shouldn’t leave the path. But it seemed completely logical to ignore it. In a few minutes, my phone would die and I wouldn’t be able to see a thing. There was a light source right there. I’d still be able to see the path from the flowers.

  Isn’t there anything that bothers you about GLOWING FLOWERS? the panic-voice shouted.

  “No,” I said aloud, and stepped off the path.

  Nothing happened. No ominous noises rolled from the depths of the forest. No slavering monsters rushed out of the gloom to swallow me whole. “See? Everything’s fine,” I said. Shutting my phone down to conserve whatever battery I had left, I tucked it in my pocket and headed for the moondrops.

  A full minute later, I realized I’d walked a lot more than ten steps—and the patch of flowers was no closer than when I’d left the path.

  “What the…” Frowning, I fixed my gaze on the luminous moondrops and took ten slow, deliberate steps.

  The flowers remained just ahead of me, exactly the same distance away.

  The panic-voice cranked up again. I turned back toward the path, and saw nothing but soupy blackness. I wasn’t even sure which direction I’d been walking in. With a shaking hand, I went for my phone and hoped whatever light it had left could at least point me the right way.