34

I dropped my books to the table in the sitting room and tried to get Koen to pay attention long enough for Wes to take a moment to calm down. Both were pacing in opposite directions. “You’re making me dizzy!” Both stopped and turned to me.

“Koen, explain,” I demanded.

“I took her out to the property line.”

“Too bad you didn’t put it out of its misery,” Wes grumbled under his breath, and I lunged to get between them as Koen turned on his brother. “You’re going to get yourself killed, stumbling around, lost in that monster’s pretty eyes.” He tapped a finger to Koen’s temple over my shoulder, garnering a feral snarl.

“So you admit that she’s pretty!” Koen, never one to leave anything alone no matter how desperately the situation called for it, poked Wes’s forehead in return.

“Okay!” I shoved them apart with a noticeable groan at the throb of my healing muscles. I glared at Wes, meeting him in height. We were eye to eye and practically nose to nose as our chests brushed up against each other. “That’s enough; let him explain!”

Koen shook out his frustration and paced around to the other side of the room, far away from us, as he continued to talk.

“I coaxed her out there to see if she could leave. She’s mentioned being trapped in the house multiple times since we arrived, but I found her on the steps and I was curious.” Koen shrugged. “Everything was fine until she tried to pass through the gate. It was like something grabbed her and sucked her back to the house.”

“Something?” Wes questioned in disbelief.

“It was like a gust of air or an invisible rope? I’m not sure, but it wasn’t pleasant. It threw me back at least five feet from where I stood.” Koen lifted his shirt to expose his purple and blue painted rib cage.

“Koen!” I moved forward and pressed my hand to his rib, causing him to wince, “Why the hell did you hide this?”

“Because of that!” Koen’s eyes were daggers toward Wes, who stared back with a murderous glare.

“We’re leaving, I don’t care. We aren’t staying in this house a second longer, not with that thing.”

“She’s a victim!” Koen argued, shoving me away and dropping his shirt over the massive bruising. “I’m not going anywhere until we figure out what the fuck is going on.”

“You don’t get an opinion. You’ve filled your idiot quota for the week!” Wes barked and roughly ran his hands through his honey-blond hair. “What happens next time you get the courage to experiment?”

“At least I have some courage.” Koen rolled his eyes. “And since when is this a dictatorship?”

Wes groaned.

“Pass me that.” I pointed to a rolled-up map shoved against the armchair. Koen did as he was told with a dirty look on his face. I unfurled the map on the large coffee table and scooped a pen from my bag beside me as I knelt over the paper. “This is the property line.” I drew a sizable awkward-looking circle around the Manor. “According to the county records, this land has been private property dating back to before they kept anything properly. No one knows who owns it. No one really knows where it stops.”

“So how do you?” Wes questioned.

I slipped the plastic between my lips and chewed on the end of the pen, staring at the line. “The papers reported a few incidents during the construction of a pipeline. They tried to cross this line.” I pointed to the back half of the property. “Three men were sent to the hospital with third-degree burns. No one could explain the incident.”

“And when did you figure this out?” Wes narrowed his eyes on me.

“After we spoke, get off my back.” I glared up from the paper at him. “If you think for one second I’m withholding information in favor of Florence, you need to reevaluate the situation, Wes, because I am not your punching bag for accusations.”

“No, that’s me.” Koen slumped against the armchair and leaned his head back with his eyes closed. I don’t know how I missed his labored breathing and scrunched face, but if I felt guilty…I look back to Wes, whose jaw is snapped shut, his hazel eyes boring into Koen like it might satiate that feeling.

“Listen,” I demanded their attention, and both fell into our usual circle without gripes. “I’m almost ninety-three percent positive she’s not a spirit.”

“Really…ninety-three?” Wes mocked.

A look passed between Koen and me.

We had both had contact with her, even briefly; we knew how real she felt. I tried to leave those feelings in the library, containing them in the space where I felt my temperature rise and my heart race, but some days proved more difficult.

Today, for instance.

I didn’t want to be in the sitting room arguing with Wes about how to kill Florence.

I wanted to be in the library, with her tucked into a reading chair, trying to figure out how to save her. It felt rushed, fumbled, and scary, but at least it was honest. That was a feeling I hadn’t felt in a very long time, if ever.

It wasn’t easy collecting my thoughts with Wes breathing down my neck, his watchful gaze looking for any reason to pull us from whatever this hunt had become.

“Ninety-three percent isn’t one hundred,” Wes said.

“Since when do you wait for certainty?” Koen huffed.

“You can fist fight about it later.” I waved them off, tugging the pen between my lips. “All the research in the library points to it being something else. Something older.”

“Older?” Wes repeated, nearly stuttering over his words.

“Ancient.” I pushed my glasses off my face.

“What does that mean?” Wes followed my train of thoughts like a blind man.

“It means I need the internet. And I can’t find my damn hotspot.” I rolled my eyes.

“Fine, I’ll take you into town.”

Both Koen and I turned to look at him. “You want to help?” Koen spat out incredulously.

“I want out of this house and away from whatever the hell that thing is. It’s turning you both into twits, and it’s going to get one of us killed.” Wes scooped his jacket up from the table and slipped his arms into the leather. “Get your shit,” he barked at me and started for the door.

“Good luck.” Koen looked at me, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t understand why he’s so wound up.”

“Yes, you do,” I sighed, unrolling my sleeves and finding my jacket as I spoke. “He doesn’t see us. He sees Wyatt.”

“His brother fell in love with a vampire and thought that would end well. This is…”

“It’s not that different.” I stopped to look at him. Silence passed between us, both of us needing to agree that we had slipped past save the girl territory into need the girl territory without even noticing. “He’s just trying to keep us safe.”

“By being a fucking overbearing asshole who refuses to help!” Koen scoffed. “She’s not a monster, Clay. I know you feel it too.”

“It doesn’t matter what we feel, Koen. This is what matters.” I waved my laptop at him before shoving it in my side bag. “Science, history, research. Don’t do anything stupid until we have more information.”

I stopped in front of him before leaving the room, and pointed to his ribcage. “You need to rest, that rib won't heal right if you keep squaring up with Wes.”

“Fine. But what I could really use is painkillers and a beer,” Koen groaned as Wes appeared in the doorway with an annoyed, impatient look.

“I can do that.” I backed away from him. “Just don’t give him any more reasons to be an asshole.”

“Hey,” Wes griped.

I followed him out of the house, trying to put space between him and Koen.

“You need to ease up,” I barked as soon as we were clear of the steps and the door shut behind us. “He gets it. He feels the pressure of your expectations. You’re acting like a lunatic.”

“Me?” Wes turned on me.

It was a rare day when he got in my face, but he hovered, two inches taller and made it known. The expanse of his broad shoulders eclipsed mine, and I could feel his breath on my face.

“You two are running around that house making goo goo eyes and I’m the crazy one?” He snapped.

I could feel the rage flowing down through his muscles. I had only seen him like this a few times, but it never ended well.

“I said you’re acting like a lunatic, not that you are one, but if you don’t take two steps back from me–” I gripped tightly to my bag as Wes exhaled and moved back. “Your fear has always presented as anger. I get that. We both do.” I waved my arm back toward the house. “But the second you start taking that anger out on us, it’s counterproductive. I can take a lot of your feral abuse, but you’re going to push too hard one day, and Koen won’t survive that.”

“Don’t tell me how to parent Koen.” Wes rolled his eyes. “You don’t know a damn thing about family.”

“Low blow.” I clicked my teeth and pressed my lips into a thin line. “This isn’t about parenting him. You aren’t his dad. This is about your trauma that you refuse to talk about. Don’t blame him for not understanding when you don’t give him the resources to do such a thing.”

Wes didn’t like that, I could tell by his jaw ticking and his eyes shifting to the side.

“Don’t take shots at me and expect me to lay down and take them, Wes. We’ve never played like that. This is a hunt, just like all the rest,” I warned him.

“Except it’s not because you let Koen get attached.” Wes pointed the finger at me.

“He’s not a child.” I laughed loudly enough to echo into the dusk air. “And if you want to keep tabs on him, stop pushing him away. I’m your friend. I’m his friend. I’m not your keeper or his babysitter.” I pushed past Wes and snapped my fingers. “Are we going into town or not?”

I could see the gears grinding behind his hazel eyes. He was trying to work out more arguments but came up short because he stomped across the gravel and climbed into the truck without another word.