Page 18 of Black Heart
It has to be that, doesn’t it? The thumb drive, now coated in sweat, shoved in my bra is the culprit of all this.
I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being observed even now, hunted for entertainment, and that every step I take only brings him closer to capturing me.
“Stop!” I cry out, my voice breaking with exhaustion. “Just leave me alone!”
The shadows seem to come alive around me, reaching out with sinister intent as if urging their phantom to claim his prize.
I whimper, feeling my strength waning and my resolve crumbling.
“Please,” I whisper one last time, tears streaming down my face as the moon becomes trapped behind clouds the minute I find a clearing. “Someone help me.”
There’s no answer, only the oppressive weight of the forest trapping me in my own terror. The isolation is maddening, making me question if perhaps I’m imagining it all—if the threat of pursuit is nothing more than the product of my own fractured mind.
“Am I going mad?” I murmur, my breath hitching as fresh tears pool in my eyes. “Is this what you want? To drive me insane with fear?”
A sudden, deliberate snap of another twig shatters the stillness, and my heart leaps into my throat. Every muscle in mybody tenses, preparing for the inevitable confrontation. The surrounding shadows seem to shift, and I squint, trying to discern any movement in the murky darkness.
“You poor thing,” said a voice cold and smooth as ice, so close I can practically feel his breath on my neck. “I’m already here.”
My skin erupts in goose bumps, and I whirl around to find him standing just inches away, his light-dark eyes boring into mine under strands of thick, ebony hair.
Then the clouds part, and the puckered scar on the side of his face glows, his cheekbones curved like a skull when the moonlight touches them.
A broken whisper comes out of my throat. “It’s you.”
He chuckles, a low and dangerous sound that echoes through the night air. “You’re brave, Wraithling. I’ll give you that. But courage won’t save you.”
“Is that a threat?” I ask, my voice wavering despite my desire to keep it steady. “You saved me once only to kill me on your terms?”
“Consider it a warning,” he replies softly, his eyes never leaving mine. “You’re not safe. And running away from me won’t change that.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to find safety elsewhere,” I declare, rebellion burning bright within me now that I’ve caught my breath.
He hesitates for a moment as if considering his options. Then, with a sigh, he steps aside, granting me passage onto the logging road appearing behind him.
It could be a trick. After all the effort he put in, he shouldn’t let me go so easily.
I take a look behind me, then turn back to the front. I’ve proven I’m no wilderness expert. If I run back the way I came,I’ll end up in the same position. The logging road looks much better traveled.
Swallowing, I tuck my hand inside my hoodie’s pocket. “I have a knife.”
He cocks a brow.
“And I’m not afraid to use it if you try to touch me when I walk past you.”
A ghost of a smile plays across his lips. “Noted.”
As I sidestep around him, his eyes follow me. Even in the misty air, his gaze shines like he’s seen too much and experienced so little when it comes to human emotion.My breath catches. A muscle in his jaw ticks. The clearing shrinks, air thinning. My skin prickles, hyperaware of the bare inches between us. I force my feet to move one step, then another. Even with my back turned, I feel the heat of his gaze searing my spine.
I stripped for you, I almost say, until my brain tells me to choke on those words before ever allowing them out.
Once at a safe distance, I hurry down the road, enjoying the taste of freedom, as fleeting as it is.
“You’re good.”
His words stop me. I turn, showing him my profile so he can’t see my puzzled expression.
“At what you do,” he continues. “A rare few have ever managed to keep me so occupied.”