Chapter Eighteen

" T his is the weirdest weather," a lady in pawprint scrubs puts three pie pumpkins in the back of her truck bed and starts pushing the small red cart back to the entrance of the faded wooden building that serves as the Onyx Farm's "market."

I nod, looking up. The air is thick and hard to breathe, out of place for October in Pine Ridge. The sky is dark gray with red streaks, even though we're hours away from night. "Storm before morning," I say. "Red sky at night—sailors delight. Red sky in the morning, sailors take warning," I murmur, looking heavenward.

"Hey, my grandpa used to say the same thing." The lady fishes car keys from the pocket of her scrubs. "But it's not morning. It's afternoon. What's that mean?"

I blink and shake my head. "I don't know. There are hurricanes in the Atlantic. Maybe we're seeing the storm's leftovers."

"Jasper Wainwright didn't mention that." The woman fans herself. "I never miss one of his forecasts. Oooh, he gives me such a hot front, if you know what I mean."

I take a moment to really study the woman— a short, plump brunette with tattoos covering her arms and a NYU Pine Ridge lanyard around her neck. It reads Jen Chambers, Department of Veterinary Medicine .

I wonder if she can see us for what we really are. Should I try to fix her up with the lonely werewolf? "He's single, you know," I say, keeping my eyes fixed on her as I stack the apples in pyramids.

"Yes—and he also looks like Superman minus the glasses. Shaggier hair, too. But I guess that goes with the territory."

Is that a hint?

Humans are so confusing.

"He'll be at the Halloween Parade."

"Are you kidding? He'd never go for a dumpy little vet tech like me."

I smother a laugh. "In this town, all sorts of unexpected things happen. You never know who's going to take an interest in you or who's just waiting to find their perfect match."

Jen Chambers shrugs and closes the gate on her Ford truck. "I guess that's true. Seen plenty of things that are thoroughly unexpected in this neck of the woods."

A hot, suffocating blast of air seems to scream down on me as she drives off.

"Storm's coming," Carrie Onyx sighs as she appears beside me, several ten-dollar bills folded in her outstretched hand. "You still planning to walk home? It feels like New York has lost its air conditioning."

Carrie knows this town is populated with more than just humans, so I shrug as I take the money and tuck it into my pocket, explaining, "The water's usually cooler. If I start to get woozy, I'll swim home. Kev's apartment is right across from campus and just uphill from the river."

"Dad can give you a ride in his truck?"

Mr. Onyx is a gruff, silent farmer who leaves the social aspect of the business to his wife and kids. A month ago, I would have gladly accepted a ride from one of his strapping adult sons, but now I just shake my head as another furnace-like wave coats my skin. My hands are actually flushed pink instead of their normal lily white. I don't think Mr. Onyx Sr. would take kindly to abandoning his precious dairy herd to drive into town.

"No thanks, Carrie. See you tomorrow!"

I gather my purse and head toward the highway. With supernatural strength and speed, a four-mile walk will take me under an hour.

But after an hour I realize I'm still only about halfway home—and the sky is no longer red, but pitch black.

I left work at three. Kev'll be home a little after five. I should be home by now. I wanted to have dinner ready. We have plans tonight.

Why is everything taking so long? How long was I talking to Carrie? I need to start wearing a watch. It can't be that late.

I fumble for my phone but stop when I catch sight of my hands. My skin is... cracking.

I just swam yesterday. Had a shower this morning. I'm not supposed to feel like this. Not supposed to be dehydrating like this.

Need the river. River runs parallel to the road. Down the hill .

It feels like I'm breathing fire. Sulfur. I veer from the side of the road as I see cars flicking on their headlights.

Phone says it's after four. Wait, after five? Why so dark so early?

Storm's coming.

The ground is uneven as I leave the road, and I immediately find a tree root in the dark.

Wait, that's wrong. I can see in the dark just fine.

Except this darkness is suffocating, just like the air.

The world swims, and I roll to my knees as I stumble towards water.

A small part of my brain knows I should call Kevin. Or 911.

But I can see water. The river is only a few hundred yards away.

My bleary eyes blink, and I look at the sky. Darker now. Rain, any second. Right?

Wrong.

I fall when I try to get back up, slow brain remembering that there's a small water bottle in my purse. I never carry much, but Kev insisted that I have water with me.

My hands are now hot pink in the dim light from the phone, and I'm torn between trying to figure out why or use all of my sluggish focus to unscrew the metal cap on the pretty teal bottle. When I wrench it open, I splash some on my face and into my mouth, and it's like someone placed an oxygen mask over my face. My lungs open up with a painful sear.

For long moments, I sit still, sipping and splashing what little water is left in the little bottle. The more I drink, the hotter the air seems to grow. The less I can see.

My phone flickers, and I can see that it's just turning six.

What the fuck? How am I moving so slow? Why is everything so... different?

No, this isn't good. I have to make it to the river. I can call Kev from there, half submerged. Even a foot in the water would be enough to rejuvenate me, help me breathe in whatever this is.

Storm's coming.

Not a regular storm. Magic. Darkness surrounds.

Surrounds me .

I drag myself to the river's edge now, scraping my flaming skin and moving in the darkness, not caring for what I can't see, using the familiar sound of lapping water to guide me. My phone is clutched in my hand, but I can't stop to dial.

It feels like hours (so does that mean it's been days?) until I reach water and tumble in, leaving my phone and bag right on the edge, ready to grab.

Oh. Ohhhh, thank God and all the beings of power. I can think again. Breathe again. Water soaks into my skin with such ferocity that I cry with relief—and my mind snaps back into focus.

Koshchei. Koshchei or one of his allies, one I don't know about, must be doing this. Something powerful, deadly and powerful, that's who is blanketing my town with stifling heat and darkness. Slowing time—or should that be speeding it up? Manipulating things so that I would be driven into the river.

Trap.

The word rings in my mind and fills me with panic. I shoot to the surface—only to feel something like an iron jaw snap down around my ankle. The world swings upside down as I'm dragged upwards, out of the water, and held aloft above it by a black, spindly thing of rotting bones and nightmares.

"Hello, зайчонок ," the skeletal jaws don't move, but I hear the voice inside my head as I try to scream. "I've caught my little runaway rabbit at last. I'm sorry I had to take my queen in such an inauspicious form," the voice is full of mocking charm, and I can't close my ears to it. The mocking turns to icy rage. "But someone has been starving me—even killing her sisters as prey. No matter. You'll keep me full in the meantime."

"I don't belong to you!" I spit, struggling against the ragged, withered form that's still so surprisingly strong. In the dark, I can't see him properly, but I can tell he must be at least ten feet tall to hold me upside down and not let my hair even skim the water.

"No, you don't. You sold yourself to some puny piece of prey, зайчонок , but no matter. This is not the Hunter's Moon. The rules are a little different when the moon is hiding. I am the Lord of Bones. I move in cycles—but I can break them, too. Didn't you know that?"

Bile flies up from my stomach, which is odd since it feels so heavy, and everything in me is sinking. No, I didn't know that. If only I'd met with Jakob and the others last night. Maybe I would have found out. Maybe I would have known how to avoid him, what to do.

My phone. I need to reach my phone. Kev!

No. No, Koshchei mustn't know how precious he is to me.

"I can't read your thoughts—but I know you can hear me in your head. You stole your soul from me, rusalka. Traitor. I'd make you pay... but you're the only meal I have left at the moment. Haven't you felt my approach all day?"

I say nothing. I hate his voice, the laughing tone in it, the patronizing, condescending mockery of the pet name he keeps giving me, "little rabbit."

For once, I am truly the prey...

Then act like it.

I let out a long, shrill scream that I know some of the night dwellers in Pine Ridge will hear. "Help!"

But when I open my mouth for another long breath to fuel my screeches, something thick and inky sinks into me, stops up my airway, wraps around the inside of me, and feels like it's squeezing my heart.

"Oh, you're the only one with any meat on her bones. The only one left—for a few days anyway." Koshchei's voice is a satisfied moan, and I know what he's doing. Feeding from me. Stealing my energy. My life force.

Kev's energy, given in love, is being stolen by this beast.

Hanging upside down, I thrash my head forward, hoping I connect with the monster's crotch—if he has such a thing.

Well, I hit something painful and solid as granite.

I see stars, and I'm dropped in the water with a loud curse.

Scrambling, swimming blindly—only to feel both ankles caught this time and something hard crunching into my skull before I fully clear the water.

And then... there's nothing.