Page 29 of The Curse of Redwood

“I’d like that.” And I really would. Taylor was someone I could definitely see myself being friends with. “Have a good night at work.”

“I’ll try.” He smiled before walking across the street toward his car.

When I got home, I flopped on the couch and stared up at the ceiling fan. Remembering the book I’d borrowed from Taylor, I pulled it from my hoodie pocket and stared at the illustration on the front cover of a man with two faces; one normal while the other was disfigured and beastly.

I felt a weird tingling behind my eyes. Then, another vision hit…

“Must you read this one again?” I asked with a groan, as Ezekiel pulled the book from the inside pocket of his coat. “This is, what, the tenth time?”

“Fifteenth,” he answered, sitting on the stone bench in the garden. He patted the spot beside him. “Have a seat. Let me read you a story.”

I sighed and did as he said.

“I thought you liked this tale,” he said, frowning.

“It’s not that I dislike it. Quite the contrary. I enjoy it. However, something about it frightens me.”

“Frightens you? Why?”

I searched for the right words. “Perhaps it’s how the concept of good and evil can become twisted in one’s mind. The idea that we all have two sides of ourselves unsettles me a great deal.”

“Shall I find us something else to read?”

“No.” I placed my hand over his. “I apologize for my silliness. Please continue.”

Ezekiel patted my hand before withdrawing it and opening the book.

I listened to the musical quality of his voice and stared at the strand of pale hair that fell across his concentrated brow. As much as I desired to brush it aside, I refrained from doing so. Not while we were in public. The mansion was behind us, and anyone could see us in the garden from the multitude of windows.

“Are you listening?” he asked.

“Of course.” I smiled at him. “I was only enjoying the weather. The air is crisp this morning.”

Ezekiel closed the book and gazed upward. A leaf fell from the tree, swaying as it traveled toward the ground.

Autumn had arrived.

As the vision faded, I sucked in a breath and blinked a few times. The daydreams—hallucinations?—were getting worse. I didn’t even have to be asleep anymore for them to find me. I opened the book to the first page, hearing Ezekiel’s voice in my head as I read the first sentence. A few pages into the story, there was a light thump against the wall near the TV. I glanced up from the book, seeing nothing.

“I’m going crazy.” I sat up on the couch and placed the book on the coffee table in front of me.

I shivered at the sudden drop in temperature. And when I breathed out, I saw my breath in the air. I always kept the thermostat at a comfortable seventy degrees Fahrenheit because I got chilled easily. Had I accidentally turned it colder? Itwasan old house. Maybe it was a draft since the weather had cooled off.

A glimmer appeared in the corner of the room.

As I stared at the spot, the form of a young man took shape. He looked to be around my height, if not a tad bit taller, and his blond hair hung around his pale face, reaching the bottom of his ears and curling at the ends.

“W-Who are you?” I asked, stunned. Though he didn’t look threatening, his presence unsettled me. The back of my neck prickled and my stomach rolled. I felt like I was going to puke.

The boy’s body blinked in and out before materializing beside the coffee table. His close proximity allowed me to see the color of his eyes; a unique shade of sea-green. His pale skin was porcelain in appearance, and there was no life in his gaze. No warmth either. He reminded me of a doll. A sad, beautiful doll.

“He fancies you,” he whispered.

“Who does?”

“He fancied me too.” His voice echoed through the room, whispery with deeper undertones.

“I don’t know what you’re—”