Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 148955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Shapeshifters? Vampires?
My mom is not crazy and despite how batshit crazy that sounded, she seemed like she was totally serious. Like she believes every word she’s said to me. I’m not sure what the fuck is happening but all I know is that I need to find my sister.
Mom made me go home with her and spend the night. I called the cops from her place and they were no help. I couldn’t rest. I was just freaking out. At dawn, I snuck out, deciding to drive to Drowsy Hollow to see what I can find out. Ivy still isn’t answering her phone. I left before Mom got up because she was just hysterical until the wee hours when she finally conked out on the couch telling me that Aunt Nelle had plans for all of us, Mom included, and how crazy it is that this all happened right after she and Dad split up.
I know how nuts people think Aunt Nelle was. I also know she wasn’t nuts. Not at all. She saw things in her life. Wild things. We had our secret chats and she told me stuff I’ve never repeated to a soul. She never told me, though, that she’d done some crazy thing with a fortune teller.
“I pulled my sister’s letter and all the cryptic stuff she said lines up with your dad and I splitting up too.”
“God, Mom, you think you’re about to be whisked away by a were bear?” I laughed.
My mom’s face went stone serious. “You didn’t grow up where I did, Amie, hearing the stories, talking to people who said they saw things. Did you see how purple your sister’s eyes were?”
The eye thing was definitely very freaky.
She gave me Aunt Nelle’s letter and I read it.
And then I made Mom crack open the bottle of vodka in the freezer and read it a second time.
I tried to call the cops but after calling off the search last time when they’d begun putting resources into looking for Ivy they suggested, grouchily I might add, that we wait until Ivy’s been gone 24 hours to see if she isn’t just off on another adventure.
No, I didn’t mention anything about supernatural stuff or witches or my aunt who’s been dead a year. I tried to reason with them that my sister was keeping something from us about why she went missing last time and that I thought maybe they should go interview her upstairs neighbor about what he told me.
They told me they still wanted me to wait 24 hours.
I was pissed and went up the food chain two levels and got nowhere.
So, since I don’t want to wait until tonight to make another report and it’s been six hours since I had a drink and I definitely didn’t get drunk, I’ve thrown my overnight bag into my SUV, armed myself with bear mace from the garage (Dad hasn’t cleaned his stuff out yet), and headed the three hour drive to Drowsy Hollow to find Tyson Savage and see what the fuck is going on.
***
“Come in and sit down. I’ll call somebody to talk to you,” the lady at the gas station says.
“I’ll be right in,” I tell her.
I go back into my car to grab my purse and put it on cross body. I have my hand inside it, gripping the can of bear mace inside because something is definitely weird about all this, her attitude included.
I step into the store and she’s on the phone with a strange look in her eyes as she tracks me coming inside.
“Almost her double. Brunette though,” she mutters into the phone.
I meet her eyes with challenge.
“Who’s that? And where’s my fucking sister?”
47
Ivy
I wake up to Tyson letting go of me. He’s getting up and leaving the room. We’re both still dressed in what we were wearing yesterday.
He got me in his cabin, dropped my bags on the floor, carried me to bed and wouldn’t let go, wouldn’t stop purring until I guess I passed out.
I feel wrung out right now. Completely, absolutely wrung dry.
He’s leaving the room, so I haven’t had to look at his face yet but even the sight of his back hurts.
I close my eyes. He’s outside and I hear voices.
I stare off into space for a few minutes until there’s a knock on the door that’s not even closed. I look over and see Bailey and Cat standing there together. Both of them have doleful expressions. Cat has a travel mug in her hand.
“I brought your favorite coffee,” she says.
“Thank you,” I mouth. I clear my throat and sit up. “I have to use the bathroom. Excuse me.”
They both move away from the doorway and I slip out. Pain hits me square in the chest as I spot him, in the kitchen, emptying a cooler of food containers into the fridge. There are also two boxes on the floor that I’m guessing are also filled with supplies. Cat is so maternal, even if she only got to be a mom to him for a short time when he was a baby.