14. Harper Leigh

My entire body was numb as the wood line gave way, and the road appeared in my vision. "Thank fuck," I mumbled out loud. My naked limbs felt like lead as I clambered toward the asphalt.

I hadn't heard anyone following me for at least ten minutes, and a huge part of me just wanted to lie down. Take a short rest. I couldn't yet. Not until I was at the palm reader's shop.

Briefly, I wondered if she would turn me away once she saw my appearance. Most of the blood on my hands was gone, but a quick glimpse told me I looked like I was the lone survivor of a horror movie.

I snorted to myself, thinking it was fitting.

Rain poured down in sheets around me, but I ignored it. Even the lightning was enough to bring me out of the fatigue-induced stupor I was in. Still, my feet plodded along to my destination as quickly as my body would allow.

Occasionally, a car passed by, their headlights blinding me. No one stopped to help me, and I was tempted to flag them down. Sure, there were horror stories about people who picked up hitchhikers, but would any of them be as bad as what I had just escaped?

I doubted it. After all, if they weren't sending me through a gauntlet of axes or fireballs, I probably wouldn't flinch. Not now.

Finally, the building I had been seeking came into my line of sight. My pace picked up. Victory was in my grasp. Despite the exhaustion, I broke into a jog and let my blood pump through my veins.

I slowed as I approached, horrified by what I found. The businesses from earlier were gone, nothing more than a figment of my imagination. I fell to my knees and allowed my tears to flow freely as lightning crashed around me.

The neon lights from the shop were gone, and the windows were boarded up. Paint peeled on the exterior of the small building, and part of the roof was missing.

Even next door, the gas station was vacant. The pumps were completely rusted, and the windows were broken. The wind howled as I stared at the sight before me.

It really had been a mirage. Nothing more than an illusion my broken brain had held onto. The businesses had been empty for years, maybe decades.

A sob shook my chest, and I curled up on the concrete, allowing myself a moment of sorrow. Pebbles cut into my bare skin, but I didn't care. Even if I found somewhere to hide, how would I get back to New Orleans? I had left my phone at Toussaint Manor in a basket. The people I had called my friends were dead, and my father was long asleep.

All I wanted was a hot shower and to crawl beneath my sheets.

Gravel crunched beneath tires, and an engine idled several feet away from me. A car door slammed, and footsteps approached me slowly. "Miss, do you need some help," a deep voice called.

Relief, however fleeting, rushed through my system at the sound of another human. I gazed up through blurred vision, noting the absence of a mask. The man was tall with chestnut hair that was slightly damp from the rain and the most captivating green eyes. He wore pressed black slacks and a black button-up shirt. Full lips and cheekbones that had been carved by the gods completed his features.

Carefully, he unbuttoned his jacket and handed it to me, a small act of kindness allowing me to cover up my battered, naked body. After that, he extended his arm, his brows furrowed with concern. "Let's get you out of the rain. The lightning has been pretty bad tonight."

Cautiously, I accepted his hand, noting it was warm beneath my touch. He lifted me from where I was seated and strode across the parking lot. "Where are you headed to?" he asked as he opened the car door.

I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself. "New Orleans. Can you drop me off at Archambault University? I'm a student there."

He nodded and turned up the heat. My eyes were heavy as my skin warmed. My savior didn't seem to be one for conversation, and I didn't exactly know what to say. Small talk didn't seem appropriate after what I had been through.

It seemed like fate that someone had happened upon me in an abandoned parking lot. Or like I had a guardian angel who had been napping, woke up, and decided it was finally time to step in. I opened my eyes, curious about my good Samaritan. Thick dark lashes hooded his eyes. "What's your name?" I asked him.

He hesitated for a moment. "Theo."

"I'm so sorry about your seats," I mumbled, embarrassed about the fact that they would need to be detailed after he dropped me off.

He waved his hand in the air, dismissing me. "It needed to be done next week, anyway."

He seemed as uncomfortable with the conversation as I was. I glanced around the small car, noting that everything inside seemed perfect. Orderly.

A tarot card hung from a chain on the rearview mirror, and a shiver skated down my spine. The tower. The picture was ominous and dark, with lightning striking the building. I averted my eyes to the floorboard. Something white peeked out from beneath my seat, and I grabbed the edge of it, curious about what it was. My hands dropped the item, flying to my mouth to cover it.

It was a white mask with a butterfly, its wings shedding blood.

"No, no, no," I repeated to myself before clutching the door. I fumbled with the handle, attempting to open it. The terror that had been absent clawed at my heart.

"Calm down, Harper Leigh. It's not what you think," the man commanded in a calm voice.

Calm? How could I be calm? They had caught me again.

I screamed and pounded at the window.

The car swerved to the shoulder and stopped as Theo sighed. "I hate that it's come to this," he mumbled as he wrapped a hand around my neck. He squeezed gently until black spots filled my vision. "Maybe you'll feel better when you wake up."

And everything faded to black.