Unbound, p.4
Unbound, page 4
“Trying to salvage your shirt.”
He sat down. “Oh.”
Despite her permission to eat, he waited for her. She could’ve poisoned the food. On one hand he thought it was ridiculous to think such a thing. However, his experience as live bait and her reluctance to save his life, made him feel justified in being hesitant. He couldn’t write off the feeling that she could’ve been involved in what happened. Sean. Elliot’s hands shook. Bev. They were gone. My fault. The trip was his idea after all. He swallowed, trying to dispel the lump in his throat.
Alannah sighed in frustration and turned off the water.
Elliot swiped at his eyes as she walked towards the table. If she noticed the tears, she didn’t say anything. “You have to eat,” was the only she said when she sat down. It wasn’t until she grabbed her fork that he even touched his own, but he still didn’t eat.
She noticed. “Are you not hungry?” she asked.
“This isn’t poisoned, is it?” he blurted out the question.
She didn’t look particularly surprised at the question, but she didn’t answer it right away. Maintaining eye contact, she took a bite of her own eggs and chewed slowly. Deliberately. He noticed the dark circles under her eyes. And she was paler than he remembered. She swallowed and set her fork back down. “Do you really think I would waste my time and resources to heal you only to then poison you?”
“You healed me?”
“I couldn’t exactly leave you to bleed out on my porch.”
“Just at your fence.”
Alannah dropped her gaze.
Questions swam around in his head, eagerly awaiting their turn, but one darted to his lips first. “What are you?”
She didn’t answer, but she did look at him again. One honey brown eye and one violet eye stared back at him. At first, he thought she wore a contact as a gimmick. A way to sell the strange woman living in a strange forest theme. He wasn’t so sure now. He wasn’t sure of anything now. The rumors that drew him and his friends here, rumors he believed were mere myths to make a small town seem interesting, were truer than he ever imagined.
“Are you a witch, Alannah?” he asked, his voice hushed.
“Only half.”
His chuckle was strangled. Devoid of amusement and filled with disbelief. The way in which she answered “only half” as if being a full-fledged witch was the most normal thing in the world.
“And the ones that hunted me, are they…?”
She shook her head. “You had a run in with the Fae. And the only human to survive as far as I know.”
Fae. Witches. His friends were probably dead and he wasn’t. Brought back from the brink of death by a person who almost let him die. It was too much. Too unbelievable. But here he was. Eating breakfast with her as if none of it happened. Now she was staring at him with mild concern. Like he might break apart at any moment.
He might.
He wanted to.
This didn’t happen to people, did it? To have the existence of something new and frightening confirmed in the span of moments. To have the desire to go back in time and make a different decision. One that would guarantee ignorance over knowledge. Elliot wanted to go back to a moment where he thought he wanted magnificent and terrifying creatures to exist—as pure fiction—as a way to escape reality. To a moment when his friends were alive, and Sean had proposed like he wanted, and everything was perfect.
Thrust headfirst into reality—the truth—and he didn’t want it.
The fork fell to the table with a loud clatter. His palms smacked against his cheeks. Tears fell down his cheeks and wrists. They splattered onto his eggs. He dug the heels of his hands into his mouth to keep silent. This isn’t right. Elliot’s nails dug into his eyebrows.
My fault.
A chair creaked and he felt her hand on his shoulder. The touch gentle, tentative, as if he was made of glass. He was. But her comfort was not what he wanted.
Her fault.
Elliot pulled out of her grasp, dropping his hands from his face. That’s right. Heat filled his cheeks, turning them a deep shade of red. Lingering tears dried instantly, leaving only salt crystals behind. “You knew,” he accused her, his voice raw and wet and shaky. “You knew we would die in there.”
If she was surprised at his anger, his accusations, she didn’t show it. That only pissed him off more. She looked so damn unbothered. People were dead and she didn’t look like she even cared. She leaned back in her chair, putting distance between them.
“Didn’t you?” he asked, wanting her to respond, to give a damn.
Alannah cleared her throat. “Yes,” she rasped.
The answer didn’t make him feel better. He was hoping she would say no. That she was ignorant of what happened in the forest. But he remembered her being scared. Her warning. A warning he had blown off because he never would have guessed what lived there. Why didn’t she tell him the truth?
Would he have believed her if she had?
No.
Elliot’s shoulders sagged. The anger disappeared as quick as it came and left him exhausted. His bones ached and his temples pulsed. His body cried out for sleep, for food, for energy. But he had nothing to give it. His appetite had dissipated, and he didn’t know if he would ever be able to truly sleep again.
With a sigh, he pushed the plate away. Alannah remained silent. She stood from the table and gathered their plates and took them to the sink. Elliot didn’t want to sit at the table any longer but didn’t know where to go. Outside was out of the question. He knew he should leave, get help, but he knew he wouldn’t get far feeling the way he did.
Elliot shook his head. He shuffled out of the kitchen and back into the living room, eyeing the stairs as he walked by. Going upstairs wasn’t going to happen either. He flopped back down on the couch. Mr. Pinkus trotted back over to the couch, placing his front paws on the edge of couch cushion and stretching before jumping onto Elliot’s chest. Without permission or encouragement, Mr. Pinkus curled into a ball.
Between the constant rumble against his chest, and sheer exhaustion, Elliot felt his eyelids drooping. He fought sleep, afraid of the dreams that lingered on the edge of his consciousness. The ones that would suck him right back into the forest. Into the fear. Into the helplessness. But it wasn’t enough to keep him away. Exhaustion was dragging him into the darkness.
Right when he was at the edge, he felt a weight cover him. A soft touch lingering on his forehead for a second. Two seconds. “I’m so sorry, Elliot.” The words flitted through his consciousness. He reached for them. Clung to them. And when sleep finally took him, he held them tightly in his chest.
Chapter 6
Alannah tried to go about her day as she normally would, but with Elliot passed out on her couch and Mr. Pinkus—her shadow—keeping vigil, it was impossible to pretend. The forest, usually silent, was brimming with noise. Whispers from the undergrowth made her ears twitch. The whispers melded together but Alannah could pick out a few things.
That’s the witch.
How did she best the prince?
She looks plain to me.
She’s as good as dead.
The whispers made the back of her neck itch. Her fingers gripped the basket until her knuckles turned white. They wanted fear. Fed off of it. She wouldn’t give them a damn thing. The whispers followed her as she tended to chickens, gathering eggs and cleaning the coop, and then feeding the goat. The noise made her grit her teeth while weeding the garden.
Alannah only relaxed when she was back inside, the place the whispers couldn’t reach. Elliot slept soundly on the couch. Mr. Pinkus was curled up on his chest. He blinked up at her, but otherwise didn’t move. She missed him following her around while she did her chores, but she doubted he would’ve followed her today. He hated the forest. The whispers would’ve bothered him.
She warmed up the leftovers from breakfast in the skillet and ate while leaning against the counter. The eggs were rubbery, but she wasn’t a fan of waste, and she wanted to finish lunch quickly. Winter would be coming and she needed to start preparing for it. And she didn’t like being inside. She didn’t want to be around Elliot. Every time she saw him guilt surged into her chest and leave it tight. What happened to him wasn’t her fault. But her hesitation to save him almost cost him his life.
As a child, Alannah always told the unequivocal truth about what lived in the forest. The stories her mother told her, she passed on. No one ever believed. And none ever returned. Humans were stubborn and unyielding. Eventually, she stopped. No amount of warning worked. Not when they felt beckoned by it. Her mother always described it as a hungry beast. It lured. It devoured. And nothing remained. Not even bones.
She set her empty plate in the sink. Feet shuffling over the wood flooring made her turn around. Elliot stood in the entryway with hair sticking up and bleary eyes blinking in the light. “I hoped I was dreaming,” he mumbled.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
His eyes darted around the kitchen before he walked to the counter. He leaned on the surface with his elbows. “I want to blame you.” He rubbed his red and puffy eyes. “But if you had told me the truth, I wouldn’t have believed you.”
“I know.”
They fell into silence, neither of them knowing what to say. Alannah didn’t know how to handle people in normal situations and this wasn’t a normal situation. She cleared her throat. “Are you hungry?”
He nodded.
Alannah turned her back to him and sliced a thin piece of bread from the warm loaf. Since he was healing, she didn’t want to give him too much at once. Soup would’ve been perfect, but she was running on zero energy and zero sleep. She would make it for dinner. While he nibbled on the bread, she put the kettle on the stove. A cup of tea and then she would send him right back to rest. He needed it. She did too.
“Alannah?”
“Hm?” She set two cups down on the counter.
“Do you think my friends are alive?”
She froze. She didn’t want to lie to him. The odds were not good. Alannah would never know for sure. Either answer might upset him. “I don’t know…maybe…” The kettle whistled and she turned the burner off while removing it.
“Can we…I can call for help…”
She shook her head while pouring the hot water into the cups. “There are no phones here Elliot.”
“I can go…I’ll go back to town. I can call the authorities. They can send people—”
“No one will come, Elliot. I’m sorry.”
He pushed himself away from the counter. “They have to. Somebody will come. They can’t abandon people. There will be a search party.” He paced the length of the island.
“They wouldn’t find anything.” She turned back to him. “They wouldn’t even make it into Underhill. Or here.”
“I did. My friends did. How did we find you, but no one else can?”
“Because you were lured here.”
He gaped at her. “By what? You?”
“No—”
“Then what, Alannah?”
“I don’t know, Elliot. The Fae. Underhill itself. All I know is no one ever comes here accidentally.” She slid his cup across the counter. “You should drink something.”
He shook his head. “How can you act like this? Like it’s the most normal thing in the world? And how do you not know how it works, you live here!”
“It is normal.”
“You expect me to believe that, that people go into the forest and never come back.”
She raised her cup to her lips.
His elbows hit the counter and he buried his face in his hands. “So that’s it. People disappear here and you don’t stop them.”
“There’s nothing I can do.”
“Bullshit, Alannah. You could’ve gone after them. You’re a witch for Christ’s sake! You couldn’t save them too? Why me?”
“You’re the only one that’s come back.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“I can’t step foot into Underhill.”
He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. “This doesn’t make sense. How can you not step foot into a place you live in?” Before she could answer him, he was moving again, this time towards the kitchen entrance. “I’m going to go to them. I’m going to go save my friends.”
“What? Elliot!” She followed him as he walked through the living room and out the front door. “Elliot you can’t go back out there!”
But he refused to listen to her. He was too focused on the forest. If he stepped foot in there he would die. She knew that without a doubt. They would be waiting. The hunter. Maybe something else. She reached for his arm but he shook her off. It shouldn’t matter to her. She had no stake in his decision. And if he walked into the forest then she wouldn’t have to worry about the consequences of saving him. Things could go back to normal. Safe. Who are you kidding? Normal was out the window.
“Elliot, stop!” She yelled as he neared the fence. The ground thrummed under her feet. The same as it did when the boundary protection kicked in. What’s happening?
Elliot touched the fence. He almost had the latch undone before the boundary slung him back to her. Air wheezed out of his lungs as he hit the ground with a thud. He clutched his side. She was relieved when blood didn’t seep through his shirt. At least her work was holding up.
Alannah stopped beside him and leaned over with her hands on her knees. “Are you okay?”
“What the hell was that?” he asked, coughing as he tried to suck in a breath.
“Boundary protection.” She frowned. “But it’s never tried to keep someone in before.”
Laughter rang out from the trees. Multiple laughs swelled into one discordant tone.
“Are they laughing at me?” he asked.
Alannah held out her hand. “I’m afraid so.”
The laughter stopped all at once and Alannah looked up. Something moved through the trees, coming towards them. Elliot’s hand rested in hers, but he didn’t try to get up. Antlers emerged from the tree line first. Piercing silver eyes pinned Alannah in place.
She swallowed.
While she expected to see them again, she didn’t expect them a mere three days after she had saved Elliot. And she didn’t expect him to show up without the other hunters. He strode out from the forest. Without the mask, Alannah studied the harsh planes of his face, her eyes roved over the sharp cheekbones and angular jaw. The face, as beautiful as it was in its harshness, would always remind her of the brutality she had witnessed. His strides made her feel as if he would walk right up to her, but he stopped a few feet away from the gate. With hands clasped behind his back, he stared at her as if waiting for something.
Everything in her screamed to go back inside. To hide away in her home. The one place that would protect her. But she knew she couldn’t do that forever. She would have to come back outside eventually. And he would still be waiting. The Fae had nothing but time. She wouldn’t know peace if she didn’t get this over with.
Alannah squared her shoulders and swallowed the fear that sat in the back of her throat. She could do this. His eyes tracked her every move as if searching for vulnerabilities to exploit. She schooled her expression. Neutrality was best. Even when his eyes dragged over every inch of her and heat rose to her cheeks. She didn’t want to give anything away. Anything that might be considered a weakness. A way to get close. A way to crack her.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” he asked.
“No.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Then perhaps you’ll give me your name.”
“I will not.”
“Did your mother teach you to be rude to guests?”
Alannah’s lip curled. “My mother taught me to be discerning about who is a guest and who is wolf. And you are no guest.”
He hummed. She didn’t know if he was amused or angered by her answer. So far, he seemed ambivalent, but Alannah didn’t know what simmered under the surface. All she could do was hope the boundary protection would hold and she would be safe. Elliot’s hand squeezed hers. And Elliot will be safe.
“I’m sure you know why I’m here,” he finally said. “You took something that doesn’t belong to you. I would like him back.”
Elliot choked.
“He’s a person. He belongs to no one,” she answered, steeling her jaw so her voice wouldn’t shake.
“He’s human. That’s debatable.”
“Maybe for you.”
“Is he worth the suffering what will befall you?” he asked. “If you turn him over to me, no harm will come to you. You will be able to go back to living quietly on the fringe with none the wiser to your presence.”
Elliot was squeezing her hand so tight she winced. I would never be able to live with myself if I did.
“No.”
The mask cracked. His face contorted in fury. Lips curved downward. Eyes were no longer cool and piercing but hot and molten. Eyebrows drew inward. “You’re making a mistake. This will not end well for you.”
“Why?” she challenged, unsure of where her bravery was coming from. “Because you’ve never been told no in your entire life? Because I snatched away your toy, and you want to throw a tantrum? Your tactics will not work. The human is not up for bargain.”
The silence in the forest broke. The whispers surged. She couldn’t make out what was being said, not over the roaring in her ears. But he did. It made him angrier. He wasn’t expecting this response from her. “You should reconsider,” he snarled.
Her mouth was dry. “I won’t,” she rasped.
She could’ve stayed and listened to another threat or two. Let him intimidate her as much as he wanted, but she wanted to get out of there. She turned back to Elliot and yanked him to his feet, wrapping an arm around his waist to keep him steady. The bravado that had driven him to the gate dwindled to nothing. He looked exhausted. Drained. Sweat dripped from his hairline. He shook. The terror swirling with in her reflected in his eyes.
Every rule her mother had drilled into Alannah about interacting with the Fae—namely that she shouldn’t—had been tossed out of the window. Alannah had ripped up the rule book and she had no idea what to do now.
