Page 11 of Wedded Witch

Once I have the cash in hand, I make my way to the main road, looking for a taxi. It takes a few minutes, but eventually, I manage to flag one down. The driver looks half-asleep, but perks up when I tell him my destination.

“Airport, huh? Long night?” he asks as he pulls away from the curb.

“You could say that,” I reply, leaning back in the seat and closing my eyes. The weight of the last few hours is starting to catch up with me, but I can’t afford to rest yet. Not until I’m far away from here.

The ride to the airport is long, but uneventful, and I use the time to check my phone, making sure I have everything I need. I still have some work emails to respond to, clients to reassure, but that can wait.

The majority of my clients were aware I was taking a few days off for my wedding anyway. For now, I focus on booking my flight. I’ve been freelance for years, quietly building a small, butsteady income stream, doing digital marketing and web design for businesses that need someone discreet.

The kind of work that can be done from anywhere, as long as I have an internet connection and a laptop. It’s been my safety net, and now, it’s going to help me disappear.

The airport is quiet when we arrive, the early morning hours lending an eerie calm to the usually bustling terminal. I pay the driver and head inside, keeping my head down, as I navigate through the maze of check-in counters and security checkpoints.

The ticket agent barely glances at me as I hand over my passport and a credit card linked to my secret account. I’ve already chosen my destination—New York City, a place big enough to get lost in, where I can buy myself some time to think. To figure out my next move and how to get to Spells Hollow. There’s very little information about the place online, and it’s not like I can ask my family about its significance to gramps.

The flight is scheduled to depart in less than an hour, and by some miracle, I make it through security without any issues. It’s only when I’m seated on the plane, the hum of the engines filling the cabin, that I allow myself to relax. A little.

As the plane takes off, the ground falling away beneath us, I stare out the window, watching as the landscape below becomes nothing more than a patchwork of lights in the darkness.

I should feel relieved, but all I feel is a growing sense of dread. I’m leaving everything behind – my family, my home, my new husband – and venturing into the unknown. I know this is the right choice, but it doesn’t make it any less terrifying.

The flight passes in a blur. I try to sleep, but it’s a restless, fitful sleep, filled with half-formed nightmares and the ever-present whisper of a bond between me and Oland.

It’s faint now, almost imperceptible, but it’s still there, a reminder of what I’m running from. Or toward. I’m not sure anymore.

When we land at JFK, the early morning light is just beginning to break through the clouds, casting the city in a soft, grey glow. I’m exhausted, but I push through it, knowing that I can’t stop now. There’s too much at stake.

I make my way through the airport, following the signs to the car rental desks. The agent barely glances at me as I hand over my ID and credit card, her expression bored as she taps away at her computer.

“Where are you headed?” she asks, her tone disinterested as she prints out the paperwork.

“Upstate,” I reply, keeping my voice even. “A small town near the Catskills.” I have no idea why I lie. It just slips out.

She nods, not asking any more questions as she hands me the keys. I’m grateful for that. The last thing I need is more attention.

The car is a nondescript sedan, nothing fancy, but reliable enough to get me where I need to go. I toss my bag in the back seat and slide behind the wheel, taking a moment to adjust to the unfamiliar surroundings.

The road ahead is long, but I’m determined to reach Spells Hollow as quickly as possible. I decided against staying in New York on the flight over. I need to get this curse broken as soon as possible, and there will be time for sightseeing or even disappearing, after.

The drive out of the city is slow, the traffic a constant stop-and-go that frays my nerves. But once I’m on the highway, the cars thin out, and I settle into a steady pace.

The scenery changes from urban sprawl to rolling hills and dense forests, the landscape becoming more rugged the further north I go. It’s beautiful in a wild, untamed way, and for a brief moment, I allow myself to appreciate it.

But as the miles tick by, a strange feeling begins to settle in the pit of my stomach. It’s not just nerves or fear – it’s somethingdeeper, something almost… magnetic. Like a pull in my chest, guiding me. I try to ignore it, focusing on the road, but it’s persistent, tugging at the edges of my consciousness.

I must have missed the exit.

I glance at the GPS, frowning when I realise how far off course I’ve gone. The next exit is coming up, and I quickly take it, making a U-turn to backtrack. The pull in my chest eases slightly as I head in the right direction, but it doesn’t disappear entirely.

It’s as if there’s magic in the air and it’s trying to tell me something, trying to guide me.

By the time I reach the rest stop, the feeling has intensified, and I can’t shake the sense that I’m being watched. I pull into the parking lot, the gravel crunching under the tires as I park near the entrance.

The rest stop is small, just a diner that looks like it’s seen better days and a garage. But it’s a welcome sight after the long journey. With the time zone change, the flight, the drive, and running off in the night, I’m not even sure how much time has passed between saying ‘I do’ and ending up here. I feel like I could sleep for a week.

I grab my bag and head to the restroom first, splashing cold water on my face and taking a moment to freshen up. The reflection staring back at me in the mirror is pale and drawn, dark circles under my eyes a testament to the stress of the last however many hours or days it’s been.

I barely recognise myself, but there’s no time to dwell on that. I need to keep moving.

---