Page 157 of Flirting with Darkness

I opened the curtain a crack and dressed quickly in the dim light. I hadn’t unpacked my backpack, and I threw in a few extra items.

The halls were empty when I slipped out. House didn’t make a sound. Did it know what I was doing?

Beneath my boots, the twisted vine pattern on the carpets seemed to writhe in the darkness, making my steps speed up. Shadows loomed left and right. They were only wall hangings and doorways or a tall clocktick tick ticking. None of the clocks here seemed totock.

However much I told myself what the shadows were, they still seemed to shift as I passed, making the hairs on my arms strain to attention.

But a few minutes later, I found my way outside, where I paused, gasping in deep, cool breaths.

Overhead, the sky was dark, the stars only faint against the blackness. A sliver of moon cast a dim, cool light.

Strange. It was a full moon when Ari was taken and that was only three nights ago. The moon shouldn’t be a thin crescent yet.

But this was faerie. Nothing could be trusted here, not even the moon, apparently.

Certainly not Granny or Faolán. Hadn’t he told me not to lower my guard? Maybe that was a shard of truth poking through some deeper deception.

Fuck.

I didn’t know. Who he was. Where I was or why. Where Ari was. How the hells I was going to find her. What lay out there.

I didn’t knowanything.

I rubbed my arms.

Wasin hereworse thanout there?

If Faolán was working with Granny, then probably, yes.

I ran across the driveway, gravel crunching under my feet. In ten yards, I would hit the grass and that would be quieter. I could follow the road through the woods out of here. If there were gates, I’d climb them.

Eight yards. Six. Four. Two. Then I was on soft, silent grass. Thank the—

Something moved in the woods.

I froze.

Between the trees, darkness and more darkness.

Barely breathing, I inched the dagger from my belt. Whether or not I believed half of what Faolán said, my iron knife had bothered the werewolves. It sat in my boot. I would only draw it if I had to—if I was prepared to use it, as he’d said.

A flash of something—an eye reflecting dim light—then a growl, and a creature burst from the undergrowth.

Huge. Grey. Teeth bared in a long, snarling muzzle.

A wolf.

My blood ran cold.

But my muscles flared like tinder catching light. I shot right, but the beast shadowed me, its great body standing between me and the road. When I darted left, thinking to circle through the forest and hit the road later, it did the same.

Every time I turned, it blocked the way.

I tried again, but it snapped at the air inches from my hand, its hot breath brushing my fingertips. My heart lurched into my throat, blocking the yelp trying to leap out.

It was too fast. Too big. Too dangerous. I’d never get past it.

I didn’t dare bend and draw my dagger—didn’t dare take my eyes off it for an instant.

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