Spell Tricked (Shadow Forest Book 2) by Eliza Grace & Eli Constant

Author:Eliza Grace & Eli Constant [Grace, Eliza]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Eli Constant
Published: 2019-06-19T22:00:00+00:00

The Never Place

-Hoyt-

Eight days after Tilda’s disappearance.

I’VE DRIVEN SO FAST to Tilda and Jen’s house that I’m surprised one of the usually-hidden police cars hasn’t come racing after me out of the shadows, lights flashing and siren screaming.

I slam my foot against the brake pedal, the Jeep screeching to an angry halt only a foot from the large tree in the backyard. As I’m launching my body out of the vehicle, something makes me bend my waist to grab the journal from the floor. I don’t know why I have to have it right now, but I do—maybe because it’s my tether to Tilda, the item that came into my life as she disappeared from it.

I’m sure Jen is in the house. I can see a light on in the kitchen. She always leaves a light on for me. And when I arrive, I do not turn it off, hoping it will be a beacon to bring Tilda back to us.

A lighthouse in an ocean of forest.

“Tilda!” I yell as I run towards those woods that have swallowed her. “Tilda!” I could have gone into the house, passed that glowing bulb in the kitchen, and rested to drive away the nightmare I’d seen in the journal. I know, rationally, that it must have been a figment of my imagination. But, irrationally, my heart is telling me that it is real. The most real thing. And Tilda is truly in danger.

When the girl you love is in danger, you do not give in to sleep, you do not convince yourself of illusion. You run; you fight; you die in pursuit of saving her. And that’s what I will do. I am tired of being helpless. Nearly a week now, I have done very little. I sleepwalk through my days, helping patients. Each of their faces are hers, open and beautiful and full of so much pain and longing. They are a mirror to my own weakness, this love and loss that wants to murder me from the inside out.

“Tilda!” I am at the very edge of the woods; at the broken fence line that has never granted me passage. I don’t wait for it to reject me this time, to send me back towards the house before I’ve even realized I’m walking away. No, I barrel forward, journal in hand, and I half expect the forest to repel me like it has in the past, but no... I fall through the gap. I fall.

And I keep falling, like something is pushing me hard towards a dangerous destination.

Tumbling through a viscous solution like melted mirror. Like cool silver lava. The only thing that feels real, that I know is real, is the book in my hand.

The reflective ooze streams against my body. It is molten magma without the scorching. Yet, I feel compelled to scream anyway. I won’t though; I’ll battle the fear.

I keep my mouth closed tightly, for fear the thick liquid will pour between my lips and I will drown. I cover my nose with the hand not holding the journal.

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