Page 78 of Angel of Water & Shadow

The crushing quiet bored into me as we trudged through the sand. I wanted to spit out the most cliché line ever, it’s not you it’s me, to let Ryder know my freak reaction had nothing to do with him. Halting, I reached for his elbow, panting from the walk or the aftereffects of what had just happened. But instead of saying what I needed to get off my chest, I blurted out, “He asked me about my necklace.”

“What?” Those powerful shoulders of his stiffened.

“Leif. He said he’d been looking for one like it.” I bit down against the searing frustration that bubbled up inside me for deflecting.

Ryder slowly turned to face me. “Did you tell him?”

I nodded and took a deep breath, not realizing my hand had flown back to the pendant, clutching it tightly. My brain sparred with my heart. “I’m sorry I pulled away back there.”

“You…” He sighed with a heavy longing, his stance softening. “You have nothing to be sorry for. One look at you and I…” His gaze drifted over my body before meeting my eyes. “I got carried away. I need to control myself better.”

“You did, though.” Without thinking, I fisted his shirt, twisting the soft fabric as I spoke. “You listened to me, Ryder, and I didn’t have to say anything out loud. A courtesy that wasn’t given to me the last time I…” A quiet sob cut off my confession. I squeezed my eyelids together in attempt to stave off the memory. But the mental anguish from that misogynistic, over-beefed jock hit me as hard and fast as the adrenaline from Ryder’s kisses.

With a gentle coax, Ryder settled me into the crook of his chest, seemingly unnerved by the messy emotions that’d been on lock for so long and were now spewing out of me. I folded into his arms delicately draped across my back, dabbing my lashes against his tee.

For once, his silence didn’t drive me crazy. I was grateful for it. He bent to kiss me one last time—a sweet, loving peck to my forehead. It felt like a promise. Or a goodbye.

I wasn’t sure which.

Chapter 26

“You sure this is it?” Ryder asked, kicking a For Sale sign in front of the structure before us. In a line of Victorians splashed with pastel blues and manicured hedges, this Gothic outlier looked like it had been abandoned ages ago.

Maybe it had once been a brilliant eggplant—the sun had bleached the fish scale shingles that covered every inch of the exterior walls. The scrollwork—curling, swirling gold gingerbread trim—was half-eaten by the ocean’s erosion. With cobwebs thick as curtains on the latticed panes of every gable, dome, and turret, the house seemed so out of place—and I found myself checking the business card for the dozenth time to make sure we had the right address.

I cut across the patchy dead lawn under the glaring gargoyle statuettes perched atop the multi-level spires, who watched for trespassers just as vigilantly as Ryder scanned for threats.

Propping myself up onto my tiptoes, I peered into a bay window along the circular lower tower. A glow caught my attention through the layers of lace: a neon Fortunes sign, flickering in the dimness. Score.

With a thumbs-up to my comrade, I ascended the porch, the paint splitting beneath my feet. My pulse quickened with every step. The door loomed over me, much taller than it had seemed from the base of the stairs. My head kicked back as I looked up at the cathedral top—it had the width and the height, even the smell, of a redwood sapling. It was huge. Curling my fingers into a fist, I rapped my knuckles against the wood. No answer. I knocked again.

I waited for the shuffling of footsteps when something else occurred to me. “There’s no handle!” I yelled over my shoulder. Unless that too lay hidden behind some optical illusion. Still, I didn’t see an obvious way to get in.

“Maybe a doorbell?” Ryder suggested from where the overgrown pathway met the sidewalk.

“I can’t find that, either,” I grumbled, skimming the archway. Thin, runic notches were cut into the doorframe. I tilted my neck to read them, but they were just as indecipherable sideways.

“Did you try knocking?” I didn’t know how it was possible for Ryder’s smirk to creep into his voice, yet that’s exactly what I got from him. I hoped his amazing hunter’s vision caught me rolling my eyes.

I studied the knots in the door, followed their emerging paths. They circled more like ring lines than splinters, forming a natural mosaic. The weirdest urge to press my hands into the wood overcame me. I gave in to the impulse, a smoky, violet haze billowing from beneath my palms. I jumped back, almost tripping off the porch’s top step, as the tinted haze dispersed into the air.

My gaze shot to my hands. I flipped them over—they still looked the same—still felt the same. So did the door. But when I touched it again, the hues erupted once more: wispy clouds of blue, lavender, silver billowing from the notches in the wood under each brush of my fingers.

A persistent tug on my intuition told me I had seen this before. Maybe I was reaching, but it reminded me of the portal I’d crossed into in the dream I had on Grad Night.

That doorway had inscriptions too, and tentacles of light, if I recalled. Aside from my touch, nothing special was needed for it to open and transport me to another realm. A realm full of magic and redwoods and…death. And Ryder. Who shot me with an arrow.

Frowning, I shook off the nightmare. “Ryder! You need to see this.”

Thumbing the quiver strap that rested in the cleft between his pecs, he left his position at the edge of the lot. As he moved the overgrowth with his buckled black boots and long-legged stride, I gawked about as bad as the circling crows.

“Take a look.” I gestured to the door, thankful for a reason to switch my attention from his black tee and how it hugged his brawny chest as he leapt up the stairs. “First of all, this thing is massive. Second, look at these patterns.” My finger hovered over the swirling age lines. With every trace of the air, I focused on the knots. They became more and more symmetrical to me, like I could start pointing out shapes as I would in the clouds. “I don’t think they’re random.”

Holding my breath, I guided his hand to the markings. Nothing happened.

Well, that was embarrassing.

He snorted. “This is what you wanted to show me? A big-ass door?”

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