Page 5 of Veiled Yearning

After I do all the shielding, I take a break to wander through the woods. It’s one thing that soothes me, and replenishes me for the next part of my day.

Back at my cabin, I work on my tools. I imbue daggers with fire, so they burn as they slice. Then I channel light into small coins and tokens, giving them the power to speed my natural healing, so a cut that would normally take five minutes to heal will take a quarter of that instead.

Will all of this help if a group of Custodians come after me? I don’t know. Maybe.

Or maybe it’s all futile, and I’m completely wasting my time.

But if nothing else, the routine—safeguards, spells, walk, more spells, another walk, safeguards again, and finally settling down to read until sleep comes for me—makes me feel in control.

Today I’ve been feeling jumpier than usual. Maybe it’s something in the air, or it’s the particularly bad nightmare I woke up screaming from last night, but I’ve been on the verge of a panic attack since I dragged myself from bed this morning.

There’s a storm on the way; I can tell from the crisp bite in the air and the stillness that precedes a heavy snow. And my weather app confirms it, telling me a Nor’easter should arrive by late evening.

I might want to live out in the middle of nowhere, but I’m not a complete hermit. The internet is one of the best things I’ve discovered over the last century. And some nights, when my nightmares are too bad to sleep at all, I watch videos of cute animals doing adorable things for hours.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have a dog. Or a cat. Someone else here for company. But then I think, what if they come back? What if the Custodians find me and they hurt the dog? Or they kill me, and my beloved pet has no one to take care of them?

Depressing thoughts, really.

It’s just about time for my afternoon walk, but something makes me linger inside a little longer. For some reason, I’m loath to leave the relative safety of my house, so I delay and start tidying the living room all over again.

There’s nothing out of order, but I still find things to fuss at. I fluff the throw pillows and rearrange them on the couch. Next, I fix all the books on my shelves so all the spines are aligned. I straighten the neat row of shells and stones on the mantle, making sure they’re all lined up and spaced apart perfectly.

After ten minutes, my living room looks exactly the same as it did before.

Sometimes living in my head is exhausting.

I sink onto the couch and look around the room, trying to absorb some of the comfort my home used to bring me. I scan my bookshelves, my gaze lingering on some of my favorite books—the Harry Potter series, anything by Ray Bradbury, and Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.

Reading is one of my favorite things, and I have a brief thought of texting Grace—we’re not exactly friends, but after I helped her, we’ve stayed in touch—and asking if she has any new recommendations.

She’s a librarian; she must have some good suggestions, and maybe that small bit of human—okay, vampire—contact will help chase away the itchy feeling I can’t seem to shake.

I’m actually feeling calmer, thinking about it, until my phone buzzes and the momentary peace is shattered.

People don’t call me for casual conversation.

Especially when I see it’s Frederick calling. One of my only friends, if I can call him that; he never calls just to chat. There’s always a purpose to it—am I doing okay, have there been any problems nearby, could he stop by soon to get a few more talismans?

It’s not that I mind him calling or asking for an occasional favor. Especially considering how he helped me; gathering enough of his allies to come to my rescue. And he understands my need for solitude and never presses me to do anything I don’t want to. He asked about joining the Sentinels, I said no, and that was the end of it.

At least, I thought it was. Unless…

No. There’s no point in speculating. Just answer the phone and find out for sure.

“Frederick.” I force a cheery note to my voice. “How are you? And Cait?”

“Chiara.”

And right there, in the somber tone he’s using, I know I’m not going to like the reason for his call. “What’s wrong?”

He sighs, his breath gusting through the line. “First, Cait and I are fine. Are you doing alright? Any trouble up there?”

My stomach is now swooping in sickening loops. This isn’t one of Frederick’s just checking in calls. I know it. Tightly, I answer, “Everything here is fine. But I can tell you’re calling because something is wrong. What is it?”

“We’ve had some problems. With the Custodians.” A heavy pause, and then, “Knight was captured.”

“What?” My chest squeezes, and after a shocked moment, I wheeze, “Is he… Did they…”

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