Page 4 of What Is Dark Within Me

Aleja slipped beneath a chain blocking the park’s entrance. Without streetlamps, the trees blurred around the edges, melting into each other as they bowed in the wind. As she took a few more steps, the hemlock bushes behind her seemed to close, blocking the path from which she’d come.

She again caught sight of something that made the surrounding darkness pale in comparison—a hulking creature, nearly as tall as the blown-out streetlamp it crouched beneath. The figure straightened, tilting its head, as if it couldn’t quite believe its prey had walked directly into biting distance.

“Wait,” she cried, floundering. “Agnes Flanders. She’s—she’s dead.”

Perhaps it would relish in the fact that its warden was gone. Aleja tried to ball her hands into fists in case the Otherlander attacked, but they shook so much they refused to stay clenched.

“I do not know that name. Did you kill her?” the spirit asked. Its voice was almost indistinguishable from the sound its claws made as they scraped the asphalt.

The question was startling. She hadn’t expected the spirit to respond. Her family’s estate in Miami had been home to several magical servitors, but none of them ever addressed her directly. The wrong answer will get you killed, she thought just as the word, “Yes,” popped out of her mouth. Dammit. She’d always been a terrible liar.

“And you set me free?” the spirit asked.

“Yes. I found the mirror in her home,” she said. It was technically the truth.

“Then I’m in your debt. I have nothing with which to pay you now, but I will return with a gift.”

“Wait! As my payment, I would like to speak with you for a moment,” she cried.

The Otherlander shuddered once more, as if trying to slough off a layer of dead skin. If she wanted to bind it, she needed it in one place long enough to hold its reflection in the mirror. Aleja slipped the compact from her back pocket.

“What is it, witchling? You may ask a question but do it quickly. I am eager to return home.”

“Why did Agnes Flanders trap you?”

“She did not trap me. I do not know how the mirror came to be in her possession. I will leave now.”

“No. One question isn’t worth the freedom I’ve given you,” she said. If it hadn’t been such a clear night, she might not have been able to see the spirit at all, but she sensed it bristling. She wished she could look down and check the angle of her compact without it being obvious.

“Ask, before I lose my patience.”

This was foolish. It was the same thing she’d told herself when she grew so desperate to find Violet that she lit a black candle and stayed awake until it burned out, wondering if she would hear the tap of cloven hooves on her floor. Aleja already knew what her grandmother would say if she were here now:You already escaped from your family’s bargain with your life, mija. Why would you think you could get away with it a second time?

The Otherlander huffed. “Get it out, witchling. I’ll be happy never to see this bloody realm again.”

Aleja’s hands shook so violently she could hardly hold on to the mirror, but she saw a flash as it reflected the crescent moon overhead. A few moments, that was all she needed… and maybe a creature that had been trapped in a scrying mirror still possessed a trace of its magical essence. “A young woman called Violet Timmons disappeared six months ago. I want to know what happened to her.”

The Otherlander’s shoulders broadened as it squared off with her, and she took a step back, angling the compact down.

“Violet Timmons,” it spat, as if the word was a piece of food too hot to keep in its mouth. “I offer you a favor and youlieto me, witchling.”

“Lie to you? I didn’t—”

Aleja knew she was probably about to die. The spirit crouched, its ears twitching—two sharp triangles that pierced the air. White fangs appeared in an otherwise featureless face.Retreat, the voice screamed, but all of Aleja’s limbs felt locked in place.

She made it a few feet before a pounce knocked her facedown onto the gravel path. Everything sharpened into hyper-focus. Individual pebbles dug into the bare skin of her forearms and shins, where her scrubs had bunched up. The weight of the creature on her back was not uniform. It was heavier where it sat back on its haunches, pining her torso down.

“Violet Timmons was the one who trapped me in that wretched thing. What was your plan for me, witchling?” it whispered against the back of her neck. Its breath smelled of rotten eggs and hot asphalt.

The compact lay trapped beneath her. She tried to wiggle her arm toward it, but the Otherlander readjusted its grip and any hope she had of moving was lost.

“No. She wouldn’t do that,” Aleja gasped, inhaling some of the dirt stuck to her lips. It felt like the Otherlander was kneading her lungs flat with its enormous paws. The only response was the distant blare of an ambulance siren that wasn’t coming for her.

Something inside her cracked as blood flooded into her mouth. The intense details of the last few moments were fading. There was little relief when the spirit raised one of its paws, allowing her to suck in a gurgling breath—possibly the last she would take before its teeth sank into the back of her neck.

“Garm. What do you think you’re doing?”

Aleja hardly registered this new voice. The pain in her side was so overwhelming, she wondered if one of her lungs had collapsed.

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