Page 58 of Something Cryptid This Way Comes
I suck in a breath. “I saw you years ago. Though I’m guessing you let me see you.”
She inclines her head in a single nod.
Okay, wow. I’minteractingwith Mabel. I can’t believe it. “Seeing you changed my life. It led me to people and places and interests I wouldn’t have found otherwise.”
The leaves around her face seem to gleam as though they’re shimmering with dew.
I think of myself as the upset ten-year-old, and the anxious seventeen-year-old. And now, angry and hurting at the age of forty-two.
“You were there when I needed reassurance. After seeing you, I felt things would be okay. And they were. Now, things are a mess, it feels like everything is upended, and I’m not sure if I can fix it.”
A breeze blows, ruffling my hair, sweeping over me like a cool caress. There’s something otherworldly about her. Something powerful. Maybe it’s the calmness in her gaze, the way she moves, or the way the forest hushes in fear or respect.
This is real, so were the other two times, and that matters, especially knowing the other cryptids were faked.
Mabel is where everything started for me. It’s fitting that she’s here now, if this is the end of my cryptid career.
But maybe, like before, her interacting with me is a good omen. I sure as hell hope so. She shifts forward, as silent as the trees. A rock tumbles from one of her hands and rolls across the forest floor, coming right at me. It stops a foot away. Jet black, oval, smooth, and shiny.
I’m staggered by the gift and wonder if she kept the multi-hued green stone I left for her all those years ago, right before I left Maplewood. I bought it from a vendor at the musicfestival because the colors reminded me of her leaves. “Thank you, Mabel.”
She inclines her head again and then glides backward, melting into the shadow of the trees.
I stand, staring at the spot where Mabel was until my vision blurs and I see spots, my heartbeat drumming in an erratic beat. With a shaky hand, I pick up the rock. It’s big enough to fill my palm.
Hades’s tail thump, thump, thumps against my shin. He jumps up, planting his front paws on my thigh, and licks my cheek. I guess he’s recovered from meeting Mabel. Meanwhile, my heart’s still pounding.
I’m still not sure what to do about the podcast. Or Agnes. My first inclination is to race back to Trevor and record a statement. Maybe that’s a starting point. Because I don’t just need to fix things for myself. I need to fix them for him too.
CHAPTER 17
TREVOR
Ever’s sherbet-colored cottage is a beacon of happiness in a row of beige, stone, and gray houses. I quicken my steps, and Bandit does the same. He must know something’s up because he didn’t stop to sniff a million different things like he usually would on a walk.
Taking the long way back from Agnes’s gave me more time to think about what happened, and I’m still as fuming, and upset, as I was when I watched Bram drive away from her house, leaving me standing on the sidewalk. Instead of turning toward home, I turned toward Ever’s place.
I probably should’ve texted him first. I hope like hell he’s home because I need someone to talk to.
His front door opens when I’m halfway up the path. He’s dressed in jeans and a blue pullover I’ve heard Dmitri compliment. For a second, I worry he’s on his way to work, then I remember him saying last night that Asa was opening the shop this morning and he’d head in after lunch.
Ever takes one look at my face and frowns. “What’s wrong?”
I huff a laugh that’s bitter and sad and gets stuck in my throat.
He raises his brows. “Shit. That bad, huh? Come in.”
I step inside his house, and the comforting familiarity calms me. Touches that denote Dmitri’s presence live throughout the space. “Is Dmitri home?”
“He should be back in an hour. He had a violin lesson with a student in New Island.” Ever bends to give Bandit the attention he’s begging for. “Come into the kitchen.”
Bandit trots after him, in hopes of the treats Ever keeps here for my dog. I follow slower, drawing in long breaths. I need to calm down.
When I enter the kitchen, the treat-giving is in progress. Bandit sits very nicely for Ever, then nips the treat from his palm.
Ever turns to the sink and washes his hands. “What’s going on?”
I grab the honey-infused whiskey from the liquor cabinet.
