Page 34 of Haunting the Hunter

“Your friend looks busy. I can keep you company.”

I look down, unsure how to respond. Then I feel hands gently grip my waist, a low voice ringing in my ears…my shadow. “You’re safe with me. Enjoy this.”

“Yeah, sure,” I respond to the stranger, feeling a flutter in my chest knowing I’m not alone.

He grabs a cue, lining up to break. “I’ll go first.”

The cue cracks against the eight ball and it flies unnaturally—smashing him square in the nose.

He howls, clutching his nose as blood spurts from it.

“Oh my Gods, are you okay?” I gasp. Then, muttering low,“You weren’t supposed to hurt him.”I take a step back in shock, pushing away from his grip.

The light above the table flickers. “You really thought I would let him near you?” My stomach drops. He tricked me…

“Don’t follow me,” I say.

I push past the crowd, making a beeline for the bathroom. As I swing the door open, the heavy scent of alcohol and too-sweet perfume hits me, causing my stomach to turn.

Every stall is occupied. Of course.

I grip the edge of the sink, trying to breathe. The walls feel too close. My skin prickles, heat spreading down my arms and up my neck. I twist the faucet on and splash cold water over my forearms and behind my neck, trying to ground myself. The fluorescent lights overhead only add to my disorientation.

A stall door swings open, and I lunge for it, ignoring the slurred protests behind me. I lock the door and drop to the floor. The chill of the tile hits my skin, a harsh contrast to the burn inside my chest. I press my palms to the floor, breathing deep.

I can’t escape this.

My shadow—it followed me.

After a long minute, I stand. My hands shake as I smooth out my dress, willing my expression back to neutral. I unlock the door andstep out like nothing happened—until I remember I had my hands all over the floor of a bar bathroom.

I head straight to the sink and scrub my hands clean before making my exit.

“What the fuck happened?” Jack appears beside me, two drinks in hand. I grab one and knock it back in a single swallow. It burns going down my throat, and I wince, face scrunching up like I just swallowed battery acid.

“Cheers,” Jack says with a hesitant laugh before tossing back his own drink.

“I need to leave. Now.”

Jack doesn’t question me, just gestures me toward the door.

The silence on the drive home is thick. Not uncomfortable, just… charged. Jack drives and I’m slouched in the passenger seat, my cheek pressed to the cool window, watching the forest blur past.

That presence didn’t leave when I ran out of the bar. I can feel it with me now, and I’m done waiting. I’ll show whatever the fuck this thing is I’m done being afraid. Let it come.

When we pull into the driveway, I leap out and rush inside, kicking off my heels. I run up the stairs, yank out the grimoire, and start lighting candles one by one, forming a circle in front of my bookshelf. I sit at the center with the grimoire in hand.

“Show yourself. I know you’re here.”

Nothing.

“Quit fucking with me! You followed me. You hurt that man. I know it was you!”

Still more silence.

I flip open the grimoire and it lands on the same page as before. The golden eyes stare back at me. I grit my teeth; a shaky exhale escapes my lips and I take in a deep breath.

“Alabaster,” I whisper. “Show yourself.”