Come Dance With the Witchwood Boys by Stunich C.M

Author:Stunich, C.M.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sarian Royal
Published: 2024-11-26T00:00:00+00:00

Kate

We walk back to the house in a group, no longer invisible. Conspicuous. Half-naked. I adjust my necklace to cover my breasts and try to take solace in the fact that the searchers and cops are long-gone, pushed away from this part of the forest by our spell. People are up and getting ready for work, but not a lot of them.

If we hurry home, we might get there without incident.

Brooks tears his mask off, letting it hang from the chain around his neck. He doesn’t talk though. Instead, he stalks ahead like somebody who’s very angry but very controlled, holding back his rage to deal with later. That’s a little scary.

I take my own mask off, scarcely able to believe that we’re walking down the sidewalk beside the forest, a row of houses across the road from us. One of them is a pale pink, another yellow, a third a soft mint green. All three could use a new paint job.

My friends take their masks off only after I do, but nobody speaks. It still feels wrong somehow, taboo in the early dawn light. The sun is crisp today, but it’s cold, and my nipples are inappropriately pebbled against the weather. Fog drifts across the ground in snatches and old memory, a vestige of last night’s misty creep. The sun eats it up as it beams down, banishing it. I smell salt on the wind.

We arrive safely at my place and head inside. After getting the girls seated in the kitchen with coffee, I sprint up the stairs to put on some proper clothes. Tanner follows me, setting his own mask on the top of my dresser with a clink.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” I ask him softly, sure that it’s okay to talk now. Flick is here, licking Tanner’s palm when he should be licking mine. Unfaithful mutt. I almost smile, but it’s not that sort of morning. I can’t stop thinking about the white glisten of Brooks’ bone, of his blood draining out on the sofa, of Viv begging not to be left behind and John scarfing food like he was starving.

Tonight was bad, but it could’ve been much, much worse.

We got lucky.

“Mad?” Tanner asks, turning to me with the laces on his leather pants undone. He reaches out and takes my face in his huge hands. “Not on my end.” I let him use his thumbs to tilt my chin up, those rough fingertips stroking over the dried, flaking blood on my throat. “Although, I’d be a shitty partner if I didn’t call you out.” Tanner pauses, and I wonder if he can see the slight change in my pulse at the word partner. “You know you fucked up, right?”

I have no idea what to say to that. I saved my friends. We discovered that the two missing cops are still alive. Not only that, but by guiding them (or manhandling them) back to the cottage, Tanner probably saved their lives.

Yet … I know what he means.

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