Page 65 of Samhain

“I’ve been dreaming about them for years, Lucifer,” she snapped.

“That’s not the same,” Lex argued, indignation in his tone. “Not at all. What you made up in your head versus what I actually walked are different things.”

“Can we all agree my dreams are more than made up in my head?” Ivy looked over her shoulder and sneered. Even in the darkness, I saw the signs of her impudence directed at our husband.

“Maybe,” Lex added. “That doesn’t mean you know where you’re going.”

“Siobhan told me I did.” As if that explained it all, as if we were supposed to trust some fairy that had cursed us on that Midsummer night.

“Oh, right.” I could almost hear Lex rolling his eyes. “In the daydream you had when the president of Carter’s fan club touched you.”

“It wasn’t a daydream,” Carter and Ivy said at the same time.

“Her eyes turned white, dude,” he added. “She read her mind.”

I tuned them out and looked around as the vitality of the forest beat against me, prodding against my eardrums like a drop in cabin pressure. It recognized our strangeness and had yet to decide what to do with the intrusion. We were taught a lesson two years ago, and here we were again, as if we needed a reminder.

A chill went down my spine, and my shoulders trembled. “Maybe we ought to?—”

“Over here.” Ivy pointed toward a hill and charged ahead. Carter went after her, but Lex stayed back and looked at me.

“You okay?” He eyed me with that addictive mix of dominance and gentleness, like he expected the truth from me and would take it from me if I dared lie.

I cleared my throat, the static charge of the magic in the air a palpable thing, like I’d stuck my finger in an outlet. Its elephant weight crushed my chest, suffocating me, pushing all the air out of my lungs. I couldn’t breathe.

“Lex, this is a bad night to be here,” I said.

“Hey.” He grabbed my hand and swiped his thumb over my knuckles in a caring caress. “Weren’t you the one that said at least we’d die together?”

I forced a tight smile, ignoring the churning in my gut.

“C’mon.” He nodded toward the trail. ”I’ve got your back.”

I went with him, each step more agonizing than the last. When we crested the hill, I recognized the valley below. Two years ago, it had burned with four epic bonfires and a sea of bodies in the middle, dancing to the rhythm of drumbeats. Now it stood barren and empty.

“We’re close.” Ivy stalked down the hill and through the field, likely to reorient herself with the direction she and Lex had taken off in.

“Over here.” Lex headed to the left. Ivy agreed and went with him.

Hugging myself a little tighter and ignoring the rising hair on the back of my neck, I followed. Every self-preservation instinct I had told me to turn back, that this would end in tragedy and if we didn’t heed the trees’ warning, we would suffer the most for it.

The trees know. The trees know all.

Instead, we went deeper. We found the spot where we’d gotten into a fight and farther on, the spot at the creek where we’d made up.

“The memories from that night are still hazy.” Carter gestured toward a giant rock. “But I feel like the ruins should be up that way.”

“Yeah,” Lex agreed.

“Miri,” came a sound from behind me. At first, I thought it was a whistle on the wind, nothing but branches brushing against each other. I ignored it, clutching my jacket tighter around my torso. “Mirrrrriiii.”

I definitely heard it that time. Turning, I scanned the forest line for the person saying my name. No one else knew I was here, no one save the other three people in front of me. Who could it be? Was I hearing things? Was it the trees?

Movement off to the left caught my attention.

“Lex.” My heart pounded as I reached out for him, digging my nails into the sleeve of his peacoat. “You hear that?”

“Hear what?” he said.

---