Page 172 of Lost in the Dark

Logically, I know it is part of the natural pull between my kind and humanity, especially among witches. They are predisposed to desire us as much as we are predisposed to desiring them. Yet that attraction has taken on a deeper level with every encounter, clawing its way deeper into my being that escaping it seems futile.

I am aware that time is running out and that she is frustratingly unaware of how close she is to becoming trapped. The world of her nightmare is telling her; it speaks more eloquently of the truth than what I could ever put to words. And I cannot rescue her from what is to come if she does not listen.

And I? I have a limited window of time if I am to succeed in doing anything at all.

Prowling along the perimeter of the house, I slow as I spot a fluffy brown creature in the window. Pale green eyes stare at me as its back arches, the fur bristling in warning. The cat is not a familiar—thank the Veiled Ones for small favors—but its display is a warning nonetheless to not intrude within its territory.

Far too late for that.

What had begun as a matter more of curiosity regarding the strange pull I felt toward her was not what kept me returning.Shewas. Every time I tried to put distance between us, reminding myself that there was no longer anything I could do for her, the pain of my scars a stark reminder of what I suffered when I last allowed myself to follow my obsession, she calls me right back to her side.

It frustrates me. I do not wish to become entangled with another witch. I fight and curse the power that summons me even as I cannot help but to watch her go about her life. Nor can I ignore the dreams she pulls me into. Anymore, I find myself moving beyond curious into an almost eager participant.

Ignoring the cat, I allow myself to walk around the perimeter of the small house. The grass is longer than those of the other houses on the street, the garden overgrown with young weeds. Even the box where humans receive correspondence is overflowing as sealed envelopes press out from within their metal confines. My lips purse as I take it in. She has not even noticed that she has felt no desire to even attempt to leave her home since the incident. Even food is delivered to the door without her having to set foot outside. And yet she continues to carry out every day as if she were still living her regular life.

Drawn irresistibly, I continue on my path around the house. It has become familiar to me as I am as helpless to leave as she is. There is no point in trying to leave when she will just pull me back here, and so I pace endlessly. Her scent pulls me until I am standing outside of her room, moonlight pouring down over me. I lift my eyes briefly. The moon is nearly full, bathing the entire yard with its ethereal light. Despite the late hour, her room is lit from within, and I see the outline of long leathery wings stretching leisurely.

Now that… that is her familiar.

I see the profile of its head just before two enormous ears fill the space. The familiar has turned to look at me, I am certain. I can feel its gaze as it bristles anxiously. It knows why I am here and is unsurprised. I cannot say the same for its presence. I am honestly surprised that it has lingered. I cannot recall hearing mention of any such case before. I admit that I am curious, but I am immediately distracted when a feminine silhouette stands and stretches, her back arching beautifully as her breasts thrust forward. The long length of loose curls spilling down her back make my fingers itch with a desire to test their softness.

My power pulses through me in time with my heartbeat as I feel my eyes widen as I watch her with a desperate foreign need to capture every detail.

“Sleep,” I rasp as I reach without my magic. The thanatos do not have the powers to persuade slumber like the hypnos, despite our close relation, so I am not surprised when she ignores it though it frustrates me. I need to gain entrance and speak with her, but right now that will only happen in her dreams. “Sleep,” I repeat.

She gives a small shake of her head as if clearing the slumberous fog from it, and I gnash my teeth, lifting my eyes to the moon once more.

Time is not on our side.

Naomi

Ididn’t sleep last night save for small, dreamless snatches. Not even the sunrise relieves me of my anxiety. I am afraid that the moment I lower my guard, I will discover that it is still night, leaving me vulnerable to the entity stalking me. But that’s fine—it leaves me extra time to work uninterrupted, even if it requires that I fuel myself with twice as much caffeine. Tipping back the last gulp of Coke with my eyes fixed on my monitor, I work hard to ignore the sounds of something prowling outside of my house.

It is not there. Nothing is there.

I don’t believe my mantra, no matter how many times I say it. No matter how much logic insists that there is no possible way that the creature from my nightmares is haunting the waking world. No entity I’ve encountered over the years of being a witch has made such awful sounds that I can practically hear with my physical ears. Shivering, I drop my chin and focus on my monitor.

Not there. Not there, I mentally chant.

I am so intent on shutting it out that I startle when Wilox suddenly flaps his wings violently just within range of my peripheral vision and gives a shrill bark. I turn in my chair to look at him, but he simply stretches his wings, an echo of an apology drifting along the psychic connection established with my familiar. I get the visual impression of the bat nearly falling from his roost and being startled awake and I roll my eyes in response.

“Strange for you to be active right now,” I inform him aloud. “It’s only…” I glance at the clock, and my eyebrows wing up in surprise. “Nine o’clock?” I finish lamely and shake my head. “But how? That doesn’t make any sense. I just sat down.”

With an annoyed sigh, I dig out my cellphone from beneath the stack of papers I printed out earlier and scowl down at the screen. 9 p. m. Somehow, I’ve sat right here at this desk without any need to pee, eat, or even get up and stretch my legs to prevent a cramp from developing.

“How can that be?”

My skin crawls as my heart rate begins to accelerate until Wilox waves his wings at me, breaking the tailspin of my internal focus, concern drifting from him through our connection.

“I’m fine,” I assure him with an uneasy laugh.

He squawks unhappily, his disbelief evident. Although imperfect communication with one’s familiar can be lamentable, at this moment I’m actually happy about it. I don’t have to hear him fuss at me—I can tell he wants to. He probably is anxious that I didn’t eat. Ever since I bonded with him as my familiar, my diet has always been something that has intrigued him and horrified him on alternate levels in both terms of quality and quantity. I have never eaten enough to fully satisfy him.

“I’ll eat,” I assure him, bending to pick up my purse from the floor by my feet.

Within minutes I’ve fished out my debit card, my fingers shaking only slightly from the inhuman whispers drifting through the air, pull up the delivery app on my phone, and make my selection. No-contact delivery is a blessing. They leave my food at the door, and I crack it just enough to yank the bag of hot food inside before firmly shutting and locking it once again. Setting the food down, I see to feeding Nutella, who hunches suspiciously in a corner, eyeing me the entire time. Wilox watches me return to the room, his wings leisurely stretching around him. I stop for a moment and brush my hand along his wing, stroking over him as I run my energy over his.

Unlike how fiction likes to present them, while familiars can occasionally inhabit living animals, a true familiar is a spirit. He is just as real to me as any corporeal creature, occupying my psychic sight at every moment he is present. The simple trade of energy satisfies him, and he opens his mouth in a yawn, revealing numerous tiny teeth. His wings snap and he poofs out of the room, leaving me smiling after him as he does whatever familiars do when witches do not directly require their assistance.

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