Page 42 of Unhinged Magic (Cutters Cove Witches #2)

Wesley

The insistent ringing of my phone chimed from my pocket.

For fuck’s sake, Reid, what the hell?

After ignoring it repeatedly, I picked it up again, answering this time. “Yeah, what is it?” I sniped, pissed he couldn’t wait for me to call him back. I had been working late, my last client only leaving ten minutes ago.

“Where are you?” came Reid’s tight-lipped voice from the other end of the line. I hadn’t answered, figuring he wanted to talk about the incident at Coffee Cove.

“Locking up the shop.” I shoved the phone into the crook of my shoulder as I finished tidying up. “What is it?”

“It’s Skye. Pick you up in five.”

Dread landed deep in the pit of my stomach.

“What’s wrong?”

He spoke in a tone I rarely heard from him. “I know nothing else. Just be ready.” A moment later, the line went dead.

What the fuck?

I instinctively dialed Skye’s number while storming into the back room to find my jacket. The call continued to ring until it didn’t. When it finally connected with her voicemail, something in me snapped.

Slamming the door to the back room shut, curses flew from my mouth.

What the fuck was going on? Was Skye okay?

Where was she ?

Thoughts tumbled through my mind, threatening to claim my sanity.

Shoving my phone in my pocket, I shrugged on my jacket, swiping my shop keys off the desk.

Outside, a bitter cold blasted my neck as an evening gust swept through the street, stirring up leaves scattered on the footpath outside.

What a fucking night for it. I dragged the sign off the street inside, flipping over the smaller one on the interior door to 'closed', before locking it behind me.

The heavy rumble of Reid’s sports wagon came closer.

With the engine still running, he threw open the passenger door. “Get in,” he ordered.

I lowered inside, noting Ty and Morgan in the back seat. “Anyone want to tell me what the fuck is going on?”

“You tell me,” gritted Ty before a distinctive ' ooff,' came from him. Care of Morgan’s elbow, I bet.

Ignoring the comment, I turned to Reid. He gripped the gear stick so hard his knuckles flushed white.

“Skye rang me at the bar, said you need to take 'us' to Moldsworth Manor.” He slid the car into gear, veering off the curb.

“She’s there?”

“Apparently so.” He stole a glance at me before concentrating on the road again. “Mind telling me where we’re headed?”

It surprised me he didn’t know of its location.

“Take a left, head for the forest at the end of the street. What else did she say?” I demanded, letting the beast inside me off its leash and turning my world black.

Searching for her.

Dread sliced down my spine when I couldn’t feel her. Was I too far away to sense her? Or…

I pushed the thought away.

Reid turned off the main street, holding a hand splayed between us. “Fuck, can you not look at me when you do that?” When I didn’t bother with a response, he continued. “She said, 'bring me back'.”

“Eh?” Ty said.

“Bring me back,” Morgan repeated, confusion sliding into her tone. “As in, bring her home?”

No one answered.

Silence engulfed the car like an unwanted throat punch.

Reid’s words meant one of two things. She needed a ride home, or… I didn’t want to consider the alternative. I hated the fact she rang Reid , because it meant the second option could actually be plausible. His gift to heal fucking terrified me. Because only he could bring back the...

“Fuck!”

I wouldn’t say the word, opting to smash my fist into the dash instead. Reid side-eyed me but didn’t comment. I’d mentioned Reid’s healing powers in conversation before, had Skye been planning whatever this was the entire time without me?

I would never forgive myself for not being there if anything happened to her.

Skye’s Mini Coop looked entirely out of place parked at the end of the street. Reid killed the engine, and I launched myself out of the car, running over to her vehicle. Swiping residue from her driver’s window, I found it empty.

My fingers pulled into a tight fist as I stared inside. There was nothing to hint at why she was out here.

A surly fog lingered around our waists, molding to my torso.

It shifted with my every movement, like death’s caress.

Like it knew what this forest had planned for us tonight.

Being here in daylight was one thing, but nighttime conjured thoughts of every horror movie I had ever watched.

It was so thick I could barely make out the line of dense forest ahead, and I wasn’t convinced I could find the start of the track.

Turning my attention back up the road, I noted the overhead streetlights had ended a while back, leaving the area we currently occupied pitch black under a hidden moon.

A shiver tore down the base of my neck, lifting the hairs on my arms.

Morgan’s voice came from beside me. “Wes, it’s going to be okay. We will find her.”

I held back my grimace, setting my jaw tight.

Ty turned to me, igniting a flame from his palm, and I felt the shift in the group in response to it. Relief. “Where to from here?” he asked.

Searching the tree line in the dark wasn’t easy, but I located the rock that was the key to finding the start of the barely-there track I remembered.

“Over here.” I started toward it, thankful for Ty’s help.

I flat out refused to acknowledge my instincts currently hell bent on encouraging me to get the fuck out of there.

Ty moved in front of me. “Stay close,” he ordered, the flicker in his palm the only thing keeping us from sinking into the forest’s dark cover.

With Morgan behind me and Reid holding the rear, we made our way in silence, the still of the forest making our footsteps seem louder.

Morgan’s hushed voice suddenly pulled me from my thoughts. “What the hell was she doing out here?” she hissed.

“How do you even know where this place is?” came Reid’s voice from behind me.

I answered simply, unwilling to go into further detail of our last visit to the manor: “Skye took me there.”

Relieved the group seemed satisfied with no further questions, I let my thoughts wander back to our last visit.

Memories of us flashed in my mind, numbing the deathly cold around us.

The manor was where I had watched Skye use her magic for the first time, and I recalled how phenomenal she looked as flame licked her eyes and danced on her fingertips.

It was also the first time I had touched her in a way that made her gasp. The ache inside me intensified tenfold.

Frustration curled throughout me as I kept walking. I needed to see her. Shoving my hands into my jacket pocket, I froze as my fingers brushed the paper inside. Landon’s death notice. I cursed under my breath.

A heavy thud pressed into my back. “ Wes!” Morgan complained as she crashed into me.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, moving again. I ran my fingers over the thin square of paper in my pocket, its presence an infliction I wanted to desperately ignore.

So much had happened since I had been reacquainted with Skye, and we still had so many unanswered questions.

If she had gone back to the manor to summon my brother again without me…

“Wes.” Ty’s voice broke my thoughts. “This it?”

Even in the dark, the silhouette of him towered over me by a good few inches. Unlike me, the guy was built like a brick shithouse. A rim of gold circled his irises, his element fully present as he stared back at me expectantly.

Stepping beside him, I looked to where the manor glared back at us. Its two glassless windows on the upper floor resembled soulless eyes drawing us to its merciless center, the front door ajar slightly.

Ty scanned our surrounds on high alert. “What the fuck was Skye thinking coming here alone?” he snapped.

I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

“This place looks haunted as all hell,” Morgan said.

She wasn’t wrong. It looked creepy as fuck. And, after the incident with the photo last time, I didn’t doubt it.

Searching the area for magic, desperation lodged in my throat when I found none other than our own. “I can’t feel her,” I gritted out, hating the words as they left me.

Where are you, Skip?

Edging forward, we closed the distance to the house with cautious steps, dewy residue leaving evidence of us on the verandah as we stepped onto it. Aged boards groaned under our weight, the front door emitting a low creak as Ty pushed it open.

He turned to Reid, a knowing look passing between them before he stepped inside.

“I’ll be fine,” Morgan hissed behind me, picking up on Ty’s vibe.

Inside the manor, a deafening quiet filled its naked walls, save for the odd creaky floorboard as we filed in. It looked just as it had the last time I was here, nothing amiss until I moved into the living area.

“Skip!”

I ran to her, my knees thumping hard to the ground. Her torso lay deathly still amidst a circle of flickering candles, in a position that suggested she had put herself there. Like she was sleeping.

Footsteps charged toward me, circling us in unspoken respect.

I nudged the side of her cheek. “Skip,” I said, more urgently this time, shaking her.

I took her slim wrist in mine, my own encasing it, the other feeling for her pulse.

Moments dragged into eternity as I waited.

Reid picked up a small amber jar that looked to have fallen from her hand. He sniffed it, screwing up his face in revolt. “It’s empty.”

Ty’s glare slammed into mine, his hand lifting her chin ever so slightly, feeling for her pulse.

“Skye, wake up,” Ty urged, his fingers still searching for evidence of life. He shook his head, looking desperately at me.

“I’ve got nothing,” I croaked, my voice shuddering in a way it hadn’t before.

Morgan’s whimper drew my attention to her. “She must be sleeping. Look at her. She has to be.”

“If my sister dies, it’s on you,” Tyler growled.

His words hit me like a fucking freight train. I swallowed over the lump in my throat. He was right. This was all my fault. Everything.

If Landon hadn’t died, she wouldn’t be here, trying to achieve whatever this was.