Harley Merlin 12 by Bella Forrest (reading books for 4 year olds TXT) 📕

nodded, though I knew I’d probably never see this woman again. “Sure thing.”

“You take care of yourself, you hear?”

“I will,” I replied. “Scout’s honor.” As if I’d ever been a scout.

“Okay, then. I’ll see you again, Steve. Preferably alive.” She patted her leg and moved off, Beethoven following obediently. I waited until she was far down the bay before I started walking, though I noticed she looked back every so often, that same warm smile on her lips.

Sorry, Reeann with an “ee” but you and your dog are barking up the wrong Finch. I would never not be wary of easy flirtations. Who knew what lurked beneath that seemingly innocent façade? Besides, there was only room for one Ryann in my life. The one with an ironic “y.” Y? Because I can’t get her out of my head.

Now that I had a goal, the cold didn’t bother me as much. I wasn’t wandering aimlessly anymore, and, man, did that feel good. Like a good little Dorothy, I would follow this yellow brick road right to Nash Calvert’s door. And the walk, though lengthy, gave me a decent amount of time to practice my performance. I planned to offer my help in removing Nash’s djinn curse in return for some of his untainted blood, afterward. Plus, I had some ironclad reasoning, primed for persuasion—I would tell Nash I needed the blood to break free of Erebus’s service. Which was partly true.

“The details aren’t important. Nash just has to sympathize with me. I’ll throw in some puppy-dog eyes and bleeding emotions, and that’ll snag him hook, line, and sinker,” I said aloud, trekking through the winter wonderland along the railway lines with a new spring in my step. Maybe things would work out—no worst-case scenarios necessary.

Provided Raffe succeeds in his mission, that is, my gremlins hissed in the back of my head. Otherwise, this is merely one step closer to your bitter end.

I whistled to distract myself, refusing to entertain their negativity. I had faith in Raffe and Kadar. Raffe was my friend. Even if it wasn’t his top priority, he’d tap the Storyteller for any resources she had that could free me. Dwelling on that hopeful note provided my mental agony a temporary salve. And I popped two more pills, to be doubly sure. I’d need my wits about me to deal with Nash.

Half an hour later, I arrived at the forest track which interrupted the dense tree line. A white wooden signpost marked it, carved with a black wolf just as I’d been told. Jittering with agitation, I headed down the dirt path, the crowded pines dulling every sound as I walked. It felt like someone had put earmuffs on me, and the effect made every snapping twig and falling mass of collected snow eerie as hell. Ghostly, as if I’d stepped into a different world.

I’d have been a shivering mass of useless on the ground if I hadn’t taken those pills when I had. Shadows flitted between pine trunks, the wind rustling the fronds and making them whisper furtively. I clung to my nerve, though my heart thundered in my chest. Anyone could be hiding in these woods, and I’d have no clue until it was too late.

The path expanded into a clearing that looked partway between a lumber yard and a horror-movie holiday destination for unsuspecting teenagers. A cabin sat in the center, adding to the psycho-killer effect.

I readied myself to approach when a sound made me sidestep quickly into the woods, ducking behind the heft of a massive old pine tree. It sounded like whispering. Not the wind in the fronds, but actual, human whispering, followed by the soft tread of feet crunching the snow. Maybe I liked snow, after all—an assassin’s nightmare, it made stealth nearly impossible.

Two furry-hooded figures appeared on the forest path, their faces shrouded with ski masks. They tiptoed slowly, a sure sign they were up to no good, whoever they were. I didn’t wait to find out. Lifting my palms, I shot two fierce strands of Telekinesis, which hoisted them into the air.

“Finch! Finch, stop! It’s us!” a terrified voice rang out. One I recognized.

“Melody?” I emerged from my hiding place. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Let us down, then we’ll talk!” Luke grunted.

Irritated, I set them back on the ground, where they proceeded to push their hoods and ski masks back to reveal their faces. My mouth opened to rip into them, but the words died on my lips. The wind whipped up, and the trees’ whispers rose to a deafening shriek. Snapping branches went off like gunshots, the thud of falling snow like a drumbeat. The percussion of danger approaching.

“Someone else is following us,” I hissed.

“What?” Melody stepped forward, but I staggered away from her. The pills hadn’t done jack. They’d fooled me. Now, all that paranoia and pent-up terror assaulted me, rampaging through my mind. My hands shook so hard they hurt, and my throat closed, while my chest gripped in a vise so tight it felt as if a sumo wrestler had sat on me. I stared, wild-eyed, at Melody and Luke. Only, they no longer looked like Melody and Luke. Their faces twisted into monstrous masks, their fingertips growing claws as they neared me, their teeth pointed and sharp.

“Get back! Get back!” I howled.

“Finch? What’s going on?” Melody’s mouth curled into a sneer. “Finch?”

Luke peered at me, his eyes entirely black. “Are you okay?”

“Get back! Get away from me!” I stumbled away, my hands too shaky to form a single strand of Chaos.

Deep down, I knew what I was seeing wasn’t real. But it didn’t matter. The rocks of reality had turned slippery under my grasp, and now I plummeted into a mania I couldn’t escape.

Twenty-Five

Finch

This isn’t real. This isn’t real!

I squeezed my eyes shut and staggered backward from the path. I collided with a pine tree, and I felt a shower of snow collapse onto my head. The cold