Page 48 of Grave Matter

I frown at him, realizing he must have been following me. “Were you on bear patrol again?”

His head shakes faintly, and he swallows. He has a gorgeous neck, something I don’t think I’ve ever admired in a man before. Then my gaze goes to his lips, full and firm, lips I never kissed in my dream.

His mouth looks like he’s holding back secrets.

“I was worried about you.”

“So you said.”

He gives me a sympathetic tilt of the head. “I know about what happened last night. I also know that you shouldn’t be walking off into the woods alone when you have a head injury.”

“So you’re my guardian angel?”

“I’m no one’s angel,” he says darkly. He puts his hand at the small of my back. “But I like to think I can protect you. Come. Let’s walk back. You don’t want to miss breakfast.”

“Protect me from what?” I ask as we walk side by side. His hand lingers on me for a few seconds more before it falls away.

“From yourself,” he says.

“You don’t know anything about me,” I tell him, feeling annoyed.

“You keep saying that, and yet, every day, I know more and more,” he says softly, hands clasped behind his back. “One day, I’ll know everything.”

My stomach flips at his assuredness. “You won’t like what you find.”

“I like what I’ve found so far,” he says, gazing steadily at me. “I like it very much.” He clears his throat and looks away. “This place can mess with your mind, Syd. I’m sure you’re discovering that by now. The isolation…”

“Is it just the isolation?” I ask.

His dark brows come together. “What do you mean?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Just seems like there’s something about this place. Something I can’t explain.”

“Like rabid wolves in the forest?”

“Something like that.” I rub my lips together, unsure if I should continue.

Don’t tell him everything, I think.

He exhales loudly. “I know we keep talking about the isolation here and the lack of contact with the outside world,for students at least, but it really does play tricks on the mind. Enough so that students have become a danger to themselves.” He pauses. “There’s always the threat of suicide.”

He says that last part so quietly that it takes a moment to register.

I stop walking. “You mean someone killed themselves? Here?”

He turns to look at me. “Yes. The first death was the hardest.”

“The first death? How many people have died here?”

He stares at me for a moment, his jaw tight.

“Four.”

CHAPTER 14

“Four?There have been four suicides here?” I repeat, a sickly churn in my stomach. “Oh my god. Were they all students?”

“Three students,” Kincaid says. His eyes are glassy as he glances away into the forest. “One researcher.”

---