Death washed over by disinfectant.
The window to my room was on the second floor.
That was lucky. Any higher, and I’d have had to find a way to sneak past the nurse and doctor who thought I was suicidal. They weren’t wrong. That jump was meant to kill me, but they didn’t need to know that. And anyway, I didn’t want to die now. The circumstances behind my fall were much different. I’d been out of options. Damien had to be the one to kill me for their dirty magic to work. I simply removed that option.
I thought I had.
Turns out I’m not good at dying.
Sliding open the window, I sucked in a deep breath, letting the fresh air wash over me. Salt and pine. There was an oceannearby. And a forest. I’d never seen the ocean before. Just pictures I’d found in our history books. We’d been told they were full of waste. That humans had destroyed the ecosystem we once thrived in.
Didn’t look that way to me.
Nothing about the smell of the salty air told me it was damaged. The scent was fresh and invigorating. I slid out onto the small ledge on my bum, twisting myself until I was fully outside the room, my legs dangling over the edge. The drop wasn’t far, ten feet at most. If I’d been human, it would be a different story, but I wasn’t.
I pushed myself off the edge, landing lithely on my feet. There was a small jarring in the bones before it disappeared completely.
Tada!
Thank you very much. I’ll be here all week.
The hospital wasn’t far from the town. It was getting late. The sun had begun its descent from the sky, splattering hues of orange and pink as far as the eye could see. There weren’t many people out and about, which I was grateful for. Some shot me curious stares, but for the most part, I went unnoticed.
One thing had become perfectly clear as I strode down what appeared to be the main thoroughfare of the town.
We’d been lied to.
Most of what I was seeing was familiar. I hadn’t been raised in a convent, and although we were kept isolated, we weren’t without some modern conveniences. We had more than four hundred residents on the compound. We lived in houses much like the ones I was seeing now, except ours didn’t appear tobe as large or as grand as some of the ones I passed. We had electricity, refrigerators, stoves, and access to modern medicine.
I’d read about cults that kept their followers naïve and trapped in the dark ages, worshipping a god who would see women on their knees. I snorted. Okay, maybe they weren’t that different. My point being that cars, stores, modern clothes, and conveniences weren’t new to me. We had them ourselves. There were a few things I didn’t recognize. Little devices that some of the residents held in their hands or against their ears. Some were even talking to themselves, holding an entire conversation on their own.
That was odd.
And the doctor at the hospital thought I was crazy.
“Took you long enough,” an impatient voice called out from the doorway of a homely-looking coffee shop. She was staring right at me. I glanced around me to glimpse who she was hollering at, but there was no one. My shoulders stiffened and my muscles tensed, ready to run. “Yes, you, Freya. I’ve been waiting all damn day. Now come inside. I’m letting a draft in.”
“I don’t know you.”
The woman smiled. It wasn’t soft, but calculating. Her eyes held warmth, though, the silver hue reflecting in the lamplight above her head.
“But I know you, Freya,” she told me. “And we have a lot to discuss.”
CHAPTER FIVE
The coffee shop sat quaintly between two larger brick buildings. Its shabby-chic designs and worn, weathered wooden exterior still managed to stand out, even with the old-world feel of the town. I sat perched on the edge of a wooden barstool, watching the woman warily as she tittered behind the barista counter, making coffees.
She’d shoved a plate of scones at me, muttering under her breath that I was far too skinny before she went back to her tasks. The café was delicate looking, with a long white-washed wooden bar that held a brass antique cash register and a pastel glass display case full of mouthwatering baked goods. The floors were distressed gray wood that looked as if they’d come right off a barn floor.
The walls held murals of forests and rivers. Made sense. The shop was calledInto the Woods.The chairs and tables were painted a distressed sage that matched the vibe of the overgrown plants that littered every corner of the shop. It felt cozy and warm. When was the last time I had ever felt that?
“How do you know my name?” I asked curiously, cautiously. Paranoia seeped into my bones, chilling me. No one in this townshould have known who I was. I’d never been outside the walls of the compound.
“Magic.” She smiled slyly. The tipping of her red lips made her look years younger. I could smell her. She was a shifter, but the tinge of her scent was off. What was it? “The world is full of it, Freya.”
It disturbed me that she knew my name. That her piercing gray eyes, so similar to mine, appeared as if they could see through me and into my soul.
“You haven’t told me your name,” I pointed out before thanking her for the coffee she’d set in front of me. “Kinda rude, don’t you think?”