Page 19 of Wedded Witch
My feet crunch against the dead leaves and twigs, every sound amplified in the eerie silence. The feeling of being watched returns, stronger this time, prickling at the back of my neck.
I don’t look back. I keep moving, faster now, breaking into a jog as I retrace my steps in the direction of the main road. If I can avoid it, I won’t be returning to my car through the woods. I’d much rather stick to the road.
The path to the beach flickers in my peripheral vision, but I don’t stop. Whatever answers I thought I’d find there can wait.
I need to get out.
By the time I reach the edge of the town square again, the sky is dimming fast, the sun sinking rapidly lower on the horizon. The gallows loom ahead, casting long, dark shadows that stretch across the square like twisted fingers. The cursed rope sways in the growing wind.
I cut through the square, past the apothecary and tavern, barely sparing a glance at the buildings now. The sense of urgency pounds in my chest, pushing me forward. I can’t believe where the day has gone. It’s like I entered a time warp of some sort. It makes no sense.
It takes longer than I remember to reach the outskirts of Spells Hollow. When I finally step past the last remnants of the town, I let out a shaky breath.I made it.
The woods around me are still unnervingly quiet, but at least the air is lighter and the boughs are less dense on either side of the thoroughfare. I pull out my phone, checking the time. Nearly dusk. I need to get back to the motel before night falls completely.
The walk back feels longer than before, the silence pressing down on me. As I emerge from the trees and onto the worn-down road, my car is still there, dead and useless at the side of the road. I grit my teeth, glaring at the hunk of metal. No way I’m getting it to start again without help.
I’m miles from anywhere useful. I’ll deal with it later. The motel isn’t too far now, and I’m sure I can call for help in the morning, or speak to the garage. Surely they’ll be able to take a look at it?
Still though, I don’t start walking. Something makes me pause, unlock the car and slip inside. Then I lock the doors. On instinct, I place the key in the ignition and turn, startling when the engine roars to life.
“The fuck?”
My car has magically fixed itself?
I’m not hanging around to question it, sliding it into gear and performing a three-point turn in the road to get the hell out of dodge.
By the timeI get back to the motel, the sun is nearly entirely gone, the sky bleeding into a deep, bruised purple. My favourite colour. Beautiful.
I’ve spent hours wandering the woods and town, trying to piece together what little I could about Spells Hollow, but my mind keeps returning to that figure in the high priestesses’ house. I wonder if I imagined it – or if it’s still there, waiting.
I reach the parking lot, nerves tense and my body aching. The old neon sign of the motel flickers weakly, casting a sickly glowover the cracked pavement. The cool evening air feels refreshing, though it does little to calm the restless energy simmering beneath my skin.
Mavis is watering the plants, muttering under her breath about something, a lit cigarette dangling from her lips, dropping ash onto the petals below.
She’s swapped her outfit from this morning for an all in one leather catsuit that leaves nothing to the imagination. Still wearing orthopaedic shoes though. Atta girl.
I wave and approach the entrance, feeling a slight twinge of anxiety mixed with curiosity about what I might find when I walk through the door.
As soon as I step into the motel lobby, the scent of tobacco hits me, but it’s the sight of the gorgeous guy behind the desk that catches my attention.Does he ever take a break?He’s stationed there, but this time his demeanour is far from the friendly, playful energy I encountered yesterday. Instead, his face is set in a scowl that could curdle milk.
I wonder if he’s having a bad day? Maybe there’s a way I can make it better for him.
I approach the desk with a cheery smile. “Hi, I’m back. I hope you’re having a good evening.”
He barely glances up from the ledger he’s scribbling in. “Yeah, great. What do you want?”
His tone is so abrupt, I blink in surprise. “I just wanted to check in and see if everything’s alright. I’ve had a bit of an adventure today and I guess I’m going to need to extend my stay for a few more nights…if you have availability?”
“Adventure, huh? Well, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of those in Spells Hollow. Just don’t expect this place to be a luxury resort. Stay as long as you like.”
His attitude is confusing, and I’m about to respond – determined to stay polite despite the storm brewing inside me – when a soft whining noise comes from the corner of the lobby.
I look down to see a scruffy little dog with big, brown eyes looking up at me, its tail wagging hopefully. Did it follow me in? I don’t recall seeing a dog before, but this little guy is seriously cute.
I kneel down and hold out a hand, and the dog trots over, nuzzling my fingers and lapping at my hand with its warm, wet tongue. I can’t help but smile, feeling a pang of affection for the small creature.
I was never allowed a dog growing up, and even once I was an adult and left home, it was still so strongly frowned upon in our coven that I was never brave enough to get one.