Page 36 of Of Poison & Pumpkins
Rynn pulls an earbud out. Her leg bounces a mile a minute and her hand anxiously taps her thigh. She glances down the street every few seconds anticipating the bus’s arrival.
“You hate buses,” I say.
“I’ll survive,” she says, not meeting my eye.
“Come on. I’ll drive you wherever you want to go,” I say. “I won’t ask a single question. Get up.”
That gets her attention. Rynn’s intense inspection of my face makes my nerves tingle. What answer is she searching for? The memory of our near kiss floods my mind like a tidal wave.
“You won’t ask any questions? No games?”
I bite my lip to keep from smiling. “I won’t say a single word.” When I hold out my pinkie for a promise, the corner of her lip spurts up.
“Fine. Where’d you park?”
After a frustrating thirty-minute drive filled with wrong turns and angry outbursts, we finally ride under the "Hooves for Love" sign. The road opens to a hilly, wide-open pasture framed by a long fence.
“Look!” Rynn points to the unicorn herd in the pasture. “They’re galloping! Oh, and see the minis? They’re flying!”
Golden glitter showers my windshield, and I almost feel guilty for turning on the wipers. Before my car is in park, Rynn bolts out the door and sprints to the fence. Oddly enough, her smile makes me think of the afterlife. I’ve never believed in heaven or hell, but am certain there is something out there, an infinite higher power that grants us moments like this. Or maybe we each have one guardian angel creating these tender times.
I suck in a deep breath tinged with the aromas of raw earth and other farm smells. Rynn whistles loudly as she climbs onto the first rung of the fence, holding her phone out to snap pictures. Two unicorns prance over, showing off their magnificent trot. I swear one even tosses its mane like a model. The first has unique pink and white stripes like a zebra and its friend’s purple tail is braided into a thick twist.
“They seem happy,” Rynn says, stretching her hand out, palm flat.
They munch whatever snack she offers, then nudge her hand for more. When Rynn laughs, my shoulders loosen. Sometimes I’m unaware of how tense my body is until she relaxes me. Goddess Above, all I want is to press my chest against her back, wrap my arms around her stomach and cradle her close so she can lean against me. Rely on me. Depend on me. Trust me.
“Nice suspenders,” a husky female voice says from behind.
Rynn ignores her, continuing to feed the unicorns. I greet the possible owner of the ranch with an awkward salute. From bottom to top, the woman is dressed the part. Thick boots rise to faded jeans and a plaid shirt. What doesn’t fit is her bald head.
“Hey there, I’m Elias. We’re from Oakmar, and we’re looking for Alexandra. Someone said she works here?”
“Says who?” The woman puts both thumbs in her pocket.
“Someone who used to date Alexandra.”
“I guess it’s good you’re here. Follow me to the barn. I think you need to see this,” the woman says. “I’m Alex’s aunt, Viv. Welcome to my sanctuary.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Rynn
I breathe in the blissful scent of dreams and magic. Of autumn dusted in fairytales. Visiting a unicorn sanctuary has always been my number one bucket list item. Now I can check this experience off in my journal. Each one prances with unique charisma and sass. My favorite one in the back of the herd, with a coat of sky blue and a mane matching the clouds, can’t keep her golden eyes off mine. If only I could live here, knit them blankets for the winter, and create a space for stray cats to eat and sleep too.
As I glance at Elias, I find him watching me. Caught in the act, his face flushes and he snaps his attention to the dirt.
“Woah, this is a strong one,” Viv says in a shaky voice. “It’s gonna get weird for a minute, hang on.” Her body goes rigid, and her eyes turn white.
I step back as Elias simultaneously moves towards her. She faints into his arms, as limp as a ragdoll.
“Uh, what the ever-luvin’ ferns?” he asks, obviously concerned. “Should I shake her awake?”
But he doesn’t have to do a thing. Viv’s eyes snap open again, black this time. “Your time is nine days,” she says in a strange shrill voice. “Until it can’t be undone.”
“What can’t be undone?” Elias asks, terrified.
Her veins turn an inky scarlet in her face, darkening until they resemble spider webs etched in her skin. Then, as if it never happened, they disappear, and her eyes return to normal.
