24. Willow

TWENTY-FOUR

Willow

“Surprised it’s taken this long.” I gestured to the bed. “You can sit there if you like?”

Doc sat at the edge of the bed, but Ned remained standing, though he opted to lean against the wall.

I didn’t expect the first question to come from Ned. “You know what we are, what Caleb is?”

Swallowing, I nodded, conscious of their complete attention on me. It felt oppressive. Heavy. But I reminded myself this was a safe space. Caleb may have left me here, but he wouldn’t have taken me here if I was in danger. “I know Caleb’s a shifter, like you,” I answered Ned, my eyes then flicking to Doc, “but not you.”

Doc gave a thin smile. “No, not me.”

“But not like me.” It was a guess on my part, but it didn’t surprise me when Doc confirmed my guess. I wanted to ask, but it felt incredibly intrusive, and I was already dealing with enough. “I know that you belong in a world that I probably don’t belong to, one I didn’t even know existed, but I feel that it’s somehow tied to me. To my art?” Ned neither confirmed nor denied, and I kept speaking. “Or am I tied to Caleb?”

“Unclear at the moment.” Doc looked to Ned, who hadn’t moved as I spoke. “There is a danger,” Doc began, “a very real one, that you knowing about us, our world as you call it, is a threat.” He licked his bottom lip as he considered his words. “The fact you know is made worse by the fact that you can see us.” He gestured to my drawing. “Not everything you draw is Caleb.”

I racked my brain as I thought about what he meant. “You mean the other paintings?”

Doc nodded, still being careful of how he phrased the way he spoke to me. Of how much he revealed to me.

“What are they?” I asked, looking between them both. “They were just landscapes.”

Ned snorted softly. “They are far more than that,” he told me, and I could hear the anger lacing his voice. “But most importantly, they are places you, a human, should never see.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say. Sorry I painted some woods and a pond ? “I didn’t know they were important.”

“You don’t know anything,” Ned snapped.

“It’s why I’m here,” I reminded him. I wished Caleb was here; he’d have been…actually, he wouldn’t have been supportive. He’d probably be agreeing with Ned.

“Let’s dial it back,” the Doc’s soft voice broke the tension. “How long have you been drawing, Willow?”

“Um…” I shook my head as I tried to remember. “Since I was eight, maybe nine?”

“And what do you prefer to draw? People, landscapes, still art? ”

“I like it all,” I told him honestly.

“Your website is quite basic,” Ned cut in. Gee, thanks, did I say I was a website designer? “You keep images of everything you’ve sold?”

“I like my website. It does what I need.” His non-reaction to my defensive statement was all the reaction I needed. “You looked through it all?” They both nodded. “So you know I keep photos of all my work.”

“What do you save them on? Laptop? Phone? External hard drive?”

“On the Cloud,” I bit back just as rapidly as he asked.

“Good.”

Ned looked at Doc, who waved him to the door. “It’s on my desk.” When Ned left, I knew it was to get a laptop. He was back surprisingly quickly, handing over a laptop wordlessly.

I didn’t protest. I simply found the site, logged in, and then turned my gallery towards them. They watched me with interest, and I hated that I was such a puzzle to them.

Ned turned his attention to the images, his face becoming more and more unreadable as he flicked through my portfolio. With a glance at Doc, he headed into the hall. “I’ll get Cannon.”

“That bad?” I tried to joke with Doc, but it fell flat in the silence between us. Shifting in my seat nervously, I once more wished Caleb were here. I thought I could do this without him, but these people had no clue as to how intimidating they were.

Doc wasn’t one to make small talk, and he said nothing as he just flicked back and forth between my paintings.

I heard them as they approached, and then Cannon stepped into the room, his large form making the room feel even more crowded. He went straight to the laptop, flicking through painting after painting.

“I need these to come off of this,” he told me without looking up. “Not all of them, but more than a few.”

“Okay.”

“No argument?” Ned asked me curiously.

“It’s not my intention to piss you off.” I heard the frustration in my voice as I spoke to him. “If I’ve painted something that you feel exposes you or your life, then tell me. It’ll come down.”

“We’re going to need you to buy back these pictures you sold too.”

Looking between them, I saw they were deadly serious. “I don’t ha?—”

“We’ll pay.” Cannon folded his arms across his chest, and it made him look impossibly bigger. “You’re part of our world now, whether you want to be or not. You need to protect it.”

Like that was a newsflash, I almost rolled my eyes. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Cannon’s look was filled with pity. “You already have.” He pointed at the gallery of art Doc was still flicking through. “You’ve already shared so much.”

“Too much,” Ned growled.

“Make a list,” Cannon ordered. “I want them off by nightfall,” he told Ned. “Then I want them here.” His attention fell on me. “This is it all?”

“I think so.”

“You forgetting all the pieces you’ve given Lily?” Caleb stepped into the doorway. When no one said anything, he walked into the room, making the cramped space feel claustrophobic. As he leaned over my shoulder, I heard the sharp inhale when he saw the drawing on my sketch pad. Reaching across, he ripped the paper from the book, without looking at me. Stepping back, he turned to Cannon.

“When does the shaman get here? I want her out of my head.”

“I’m not in your head,” I snapped. “I thought you left?”

Caleb ignored me, his attention on Cannon. “Well?”

I went to speak again, but Doc nudged me with his knee. When I turned to him, he gave a slight shake of his head. Frowning, I heeded the warning and bit my tongue, although I wanted to demand what the hell was wrong with Caleb. Why was he suddenly being so aggressive towards me? Also, who said he could come back ?

The tension in the air was thick. Ned kept glancing at me like I was some kind of intruder, and maybe I was. Cannon’s attention was solely on Caleb and vice versa, and Doc…well, he seemed to be the only one who looked at ease.

“Can you start to remove the paintings?” Cannon suddenly asked me.

“Yes.” I tapped the laptop as I spoke to Doc. “Can I use this?”

“Of course.” He moved towards the door. “I’ll get you the cable to charge in case it loses juice.” He hesitated in the open doorway. “Don’t think we all need to stay for this, do we?”

It was a not-so-subtle hint to tell his companions to leave, and I was surprised when they all filed out, which left me alone with Caleb.

I hated how he was acting. He had been distant, as if a wall had come between us the moment we entered this territory, as he called it. The easy companionship that we had as we traveled was gone.

I tried to catch his eye, but he avoided my gaze, his jaw clenched tight, so I turned my attention to the laptop. I’d never really been good with awkward silences, and as I clicked “edit site” on the page, I couldn’t stop myself. “You came back? What’s going on? You’re angry and I don’t understand why.”

“I don’t like it here,” he said with a grunt. “I didn’t want to bring you here, and I wish I hadn’t.”

“Then why are we here?”

“I had no choice,” he muttered. He was pacing the small room, agitated and restless.

Standing, I reached out to touch him, trying to center him. “Caleb, can you just stop?”

He came to a stop in front of me, unnaturally close, bearing over me. Looking down, his eyes flashed with anger. “Why can’t you understand it’s not a simple case of stopping? This Peak, these people, I hate it. I hate being here.”

“Then we’ll leave.” The only sign he had heard me was the small frown that appeared on his forehead. “I don’t know what’s going on with you. You’re shutting me out and acting like I made you come here, but I didn’t. We don’t know each other that well, but I like the person you are away from here.”

His frown smoothed a little as he listened to me. “You like me?”

“Since we got here, you’re making it very difficult to think pleasant thoughts about you, but yes. I don’t think we’re enemies, are we?”

He turned his head from me with a slight huff, and I wasn’t sure if I’d pissed him off again or if he was amused by my honesty. “This Peak,” he began, “it changes you.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Never.” His voice was tight and filled with emotion, and I sensed that this subject was very raw for him.

“Will it be better if we leave?”

I expected him to agree, but instead, he shook his head, surprising me. “You’re already involved.” Stepping back, he dug his fingers into his hair, shaking the locks loose in frustration. “I should never have brought you here.”

“Then let’s go!”

“To where? Whispering Pines?” he scoffed. “You can’t go back. They know about you now. I should have kept you away.” Walking over to the bed, he sat down, his head down, eyes on the floor. “I should have never met you.”

The harsh words cut deep. It wasn’t the words themselves but the way he said them. He truly believed this, and at first, I was too stunned to say anything. “You could at least sugarcoat it when you say you wish you’d never met someone,” I grumbled, trying to mask the hurt.

His grunt could not be interpreted as an apology, I tried not to stare at him, but something had been bugging me. “You’re not from here,” I guessed, he didn’t look at me, but the way his body suddenly stilled let me know he was listening. “So…where’s your mountain? The one I draw, is it close?”

“No.”

Ever the conversationalist. “Does it have a name?” I prodded. “One I’d know?”

He gave me a look, the one that told me he knew what I was doing, and he didn’t want to play. “No. ”

“Fine.” I gave up. “Keep all your secrets, it’s not like I won’t ask anyone else.” I rubbed my fingers across my forehead.

Caleb raised his head, his eyes meeting mine, and I saw the conflict in his eyes. “Have you been sleeping?”

The abrupt change of subject confused me for a moment. “You’re changing the subject?” I asked him wide-eyed.

“The last one was redundant.” Caleb turned his attention to the laptop. “Once you’ve done that, you should rest.”

“Who died and made you the boss of me?” I snapped at him and his demanding ways.

He opened his mouth to say something witty I was sure, but he shut it quickly. I almost said wise move , but I saw his hands clenched at his sides, and I decided not to push.

Not today.

We were both tired, I reasoned, and ill-tempered. Tomorrow would be better for this conversation.

“I don’t remember which paintings he didn’t like,” I admitted, turning my attention to the laptop.

I heard his sigh and then he was behind me, close but not touching. “I’ll show you.”

I deleted twelve paintings from the gallery, and Caleb made me go through my uploaded images folder and delete them from there too. I then signed into the Cloud and repeated the motion.

“Do you resent doing that?” he asked me quietly.

“No,” I answered honestly. “It’s like I told the others, if it puts you in danger, then I want to stop that.”

I didn’t turn to look up at him, but I could feel him staring at me. “It’s kind of you to think like that.”

I shrugged it off. “It’s not as easy as I’m making it sound,” I admitted, but I thought of what Cannon had said about the paintings. “Getting them back will be difficult, but if I have to, then I have to.”

“You have to,” he confirmed grimly.

Looking up at him, I asked, “Where are they places of? Do you know them?”

Caleb’s eyes turned hard once more. “You don’t need to know that.”

“Right, of course.” I heard the bitterness in my voice and closed the laptop. “That’s just par for the course now, right? Keep me ignorant and clueless.”

“You don’t need to know,” he reiterated angrily. “It’s better if you don’t.”

“Says who? You?” Caleb moved to the door, and I already knew he was walking out on me, again. “Don’t tell me,” I mocked, “you’re leaving?”

He stopped at the doorway, his head bent, slightly angled to allow him to look back if he wanted, but he didn’t move any further. “I did leave,” he spoke clearly, his tone devoid of emotion. “I was half a day away from this mountain when I knew I couldn’t do that to you. I hate these mountains. I don’t belong here, but I remembered something when I was on my way out of here.” He pushed the door open wide. “You don’t belong here either.” His fingers tapped against the doorframe. “Rest, Willow, tomorrow won’t be any easier.”

“Why would it be?” I mumbled bitterly.

He hesitated. “Shadowridge Peak,” he told me, his voice low, tight with emotion. “That’s where I come from, where I once called home. ”

My emotions swelled and I went to speak, but he left without a backward glance, and that made the tears fall faster.

I’d been wrong earlier. Even with Caleb here, I felt alone. I missed my home. I missed Lily.

The sooner this other doctor came, the sooner I would be “fixed,” and that meant the sooner I could go home and put this whole mess behind me.

Lying down on the bed, I closed my eyes and hoped to dream of a time when life was much simpler and shifters were nothing more than a figment of my imagination.

I lay there for a long time, staring at nothing, wondering about the secrets that Shadowridge Peak held, before sleep finally came.