Page 83 of Hunted By the Headless Horseman
“Took you long enough,” I rasp, my voice rough from disuse.
She raises a brow. “Don’t get snippy with me, boy. You’re lucky I found you.”
I swing my legs over the edge of the coffin and rise, my legsweak. Thankfully, it doesn’t take long to regain the feeling in them. I take stock of my surroundings—trees loom on every side, twisted and gnarled, the godforsaken woods stretching endlessly in every direction. I recognize this thicker patch. It’s not on my land, but it’s close to the diviner’s crumbled home.
“How did you find me?” I ask, my voice still gravelly. Before she answers, a familiar shape weaves its way through the underbrush—Mortimer. I shake my head in disbelief, laughing breathily as the feline slinks toward me with his usual affectionate grace. He rubs my leg, just like always. I’ve never felt more grateful to see that damn cat.
Mrs. Kravitson huffs. “Like my diviner ancestor, me and cats? We’re on good terms.”
I glance down at Mortimer. “Remind me to buy him a steak,” I mutter, briefly lowering my hand to scratch behind his ear before looking back at Mrs. Kravitson. “Where’s Belle?”
Her face darkens, the casual smirk slipping into something grave. All my muscles stiffen. “That’s why I was so desperate to find you.” She shakes her head, a burden weighing her down. “The Covenant took her. In the middle of all the chaos with the bookshop burning… the firefighters stopped the flames, but when the smoke cleared, Belle was gone.”
The words hit me like a hammer to the chest. Confirmation of my suspicions. As my muscles tremble with rage, the monster inside me surges to the surface, and I growl, “Where? Where did he take her?”
Mrs. Kravitson grimaces, glancing back at the rising mountains in the distance. “I have an educated guess of where she is now, but her future location is far more probable. Regardless, the county police are stepping in. They’re mobilizing, but they’ll need search warrants. It’s taking time. The Covenant is well-armed. They own the land and protect what’s theirs.”
I let out a low snarl. “Belle is mine.”
She nods. “I knew I needed to find you first. Forgive me for my interference earlier… and my pride, thinking I could control this. All I’ve wanted is to protect her. But I’ve known for years how unstable Thaddeus is. I should have dealt with him long ago.”
“He won’t be unstable for long,” I growl, my voice venomous. “He’ll be dead.”
When I clench my hands into fists, Mrs. Kravitson lays a hand on my arm, her grip firm. “You can’t just charge in. That’s exactly what they’ll expect. And if you’re caught again…” She trails off, and we both know what my fate would be. “I know where Thaddeus will take her, and I know another way in. A way that won’t raise alarms.”
I stare into the forest, my thoughts a whirlwind of violence and desperation. “Tell me,” I demand, steeling every bone in my body. Veins throb to the surface.
Despite the darkness, Mrs. Kravitson meets my gaze. As the diviner’s descendant, she has the luxury of looking upon my face as opposed to all others. “My family’s old farm,” she says quietly. “The one bordering the compound. There’s an old tunnel Lizzy and I used, a secret tunnel used for an old mine shaft before the Covenant even owned the land. It’s dangerous, but it’ll get you close without detection.”
A flash of rage tightens in my chest, but beneath it…hope. If she knows a way in, then there’s a chance. A chance to get Belle back, to rip Thaddeus apart for every twisted thing he’s done.
“Lead the way,” I say, my voice like steel.
Mrs. Kravitson nods, glancing at Mortimer. The cat’s eyes gleam in the low light as if he knows what’s coming next.
God help anyone who gets in my way.
The smellof damp earth and decay fills the tunnel.
Every step echoes against the stone walls. My cane resounds most, and I’m grateful to Mrs. Kravitson for bringing it.
Her lantern flickers, casting long, twisted shadows along the dark and dank rocks. My breath feels heavy, the weight of what’scoming pressing down on me like the walls themselves. Tension grows thicker by the second.
Like Mrs. Kravitson stated, I cannot simply charge through. Surprise will be my greatest ally. Thaddeus Thorne is my sole focus. Take out the leader, cut off the head of the snake before he can sink his fangs into my Belle. I cannot fail.
As we near a turn in the passage, Mrs. Kravitson stops and sets the flashlight down on a rock, her expression hardening. She reaches into her pack, pulling out something very familiar.
The knit pumpkin head.
She hands it to me, her voice low and steady. “Dawn’s coming soon,” she says. “You’ll want to cover your head, either way.”
I take it from her, and the material seems to pulse in my hands—like the knitted wool echoes the tender care and love Belle wove into every thread. My senses heighten, my awareness sharpens. I secure it over my face since Belle ensured they were large enough for the task. The connection is instant, primal. She feels closer than ever.
Closing my eyes, I sink deep into our bond, seeking the invisible threads of her mind entwined with mine. Our tether, bound by blood and magic, thrums with life.
I can feel her—the fear that claws at her chest, the dread coursing through her veins. But beneath it, something deeper lingers—longing. A desperate ache and a hope that withers by the moment. Fuck, I feel her trembling, hear her whimpering in the fabric of her mind. It’s raw, visceral, impossible to ignore. She is terrified, yes, but her heart still searches for me.
I’m coming, Belle.I will the message to reach her, hoping it makes its mark.
