Fairydale: A Dark Gothic Fantasy Romance
Fairydale: Part 1 – Chapter 7

My eyes snap open as morning light filters through the window. As I look around, it takes me a moment to recognize my surroundings before everything that had happened the night before comes to me.

Caleb.

His odd behavior. Him chasing me in the rain…

Gasping, I stand up—a little too suddenly—and my head feels like it’s about to burst. Bringing my hand to my forehead, I note there’s a bandage in place.

Immediately, I shoot out of bed, finding my purse and removing a small hand mirror from inside. Taking in my appearance, I note the shadows under my eyes and a splotchy red spot over white gauze.

I fell.

When he was chasing me, I fell.

Looking around, I exhale in relief when I don’t see Caleb around, and as soon as I’m able to get to my feet I go to the door and latch the lock in place.

Dear God, what happened?

One glance at my wristwatch and I note it’s eight in the morning.

I spent the entire night here. With him. And I was out of it for the entire time…

As things start to become clearer, I realize I’m also not wearing the same dress as before. My gaze dips down at the beige gown I’m garbed in—one of the dresses I’d bought yesterday. Yet as I move, more things hurt, including…

Panic takes hold of me.

Without a second thought, I slip the dress over my head, intent on inspecting my body.

Tears prick at my eyes as I move my hands down my ribcage, wincing at the contact with my tender flesh. There are bruises everywhere.

But that’s not the worst.

I swallow hard as I take in my naked body and the fact that I’m not wearing my underthings. I’m completely bare under the dress.

What makes me want to bawl my eyes out, though, is the fact that there is crusted blood all over my inner thigh, starting from the junction of my legs and drying in trickles to my knee.

There are gashes and scratches all over my legs—all indicating a struggle.

He… Did he…

A loud wail erupts from my throat as I fall down to the floor, my entire body shaking, my mind slipping from me.

I don’t know how long I stay on the floor, crying and sobbing from the depths of my soul. But after some time, I realize I can’t possibly linger here any longer in case Caleb returns—in case he tries to hurt me again.

There is a small grace in the fact that I cannot remember what he did to me. But the evidence is clear as day.

He…raped me.

A knot forms in my throat as I acknowledge that fact to myself, yet I have to be strong.

I’m still alive, right?

Finding some water, I wet a towel and I try to clean myself as best as I can before I slip the dress back on, getting my purse and shopping bag before I leave the cabin.

Yet as I open the door, a loud meow draws my attention to the ground, to a black cat with a small patch of white hair.

‘You…’ I blink. ‘Is it you, Mr. Meow?’ I ask just as I realize how silly I am. Of course it can’t be Mr. Meow. But he is cute enough to make me momentarily forget my plight.

Leaning down, I beckon him closer, surprised when he lets me pet him and take him in my arms.

‘Come with me?’ I ask, though I know far too well he cannot answer back. Still, he nuzzles his furry cheek against mine and I take it as a sign of assent. ‘Good boy,’ I chuckle, despite the tears still running down my cheeks.

I hug the little furry creature to my chest as I trudge my way back to the village.

And as I continue to cry while walking, the cat meows gently in my ear. If it had been another human I’m quite sure it would have been a word of comfort.

‘Thank you,’ I sniffle. ‘I’m a mess today.’ I admit and he snuggles closer.

‘I’m sure you don’t want to hear about my problems… But I just want to leave this damn town and forget it ever existed—forget everyone in it existed, too.’

‘Meow,’ he releases a soft sound as he licks my cheek.

‘I could take you with me. I’m sure I could convince Allison to let me keep you. Would you like that?’

‘Meeeeow.’

I chuckle, though my face is still frozen with pain.

‘I’ll take that as a categorical yes.’

In spite of the language barrier, I’m thankful for his presence. Talking with him despite getting no reply is helping me to stop thinking about what happened.

At the fact that Caleb…

It’s all my damn fault for getting in his car. For trusting him when I should have never done that. And now… Another pained cry escapes my lips when I think about what he did—what he stole from me. I barely manage to put one foot in front of the other as pain unlike any other takes root in my heart.

How could he? How could he do that to me?

I’d always imagined I would one day fall in love with someone, and then I’d share everything that I am with him—body and soul. Yet now there’s a hollowness inside my heart when I think of someone violating my body in that manner—taking what wasn’t his to take, only mine to give.

My stomach rebels at the very thought, and I feel ill for ever thinking him attractive, for dreaming what it might be like if he touched me. But not like that. Not without my permission, and certainly not against my wishes.

‘Meow,’ Mr. Meow licks my face again.

‘You’re a very nice cat, Mr. Meow,’ I coo as I give him a light pat.

In an attempt to forget my sorrows, I tell Mr. Meow about my life back home, about my job and my friends, about the nuns who raised me.

Recalling happy memories makes me push aside the bad ones.

After what feels like an eternity, I finally make it back to the town, but because I can’t quite recall where the Pierce house is, I spend another hour wandering from house to house.

When I finally locate it, I knock at the door.

‘If they yell, don’t be too scared. Vicky tends to do that sometimes,’ I tell Mr. Meow.

But just as the door opens, he jumps from my arms, running in the bushes.

I’m about to turn to go after him when Vicky calls my name.

‘And the hussy is here.’

I blink.

‘Hussy?’ I croak.

‘You think we wouldn’t know you didn’t spend the night at Astor Place?’ she sneers. ‘Who knows who the hell you slimed about with and now I have to welcome you into my home,’ she sneers  before she spits at my feet.

I jump a step back, confused about her attitude. That doesn’t mean I’m going to let her cast aspersions on my character.

‘You’re wrong,’ I push my chin up. And though I hate to lie, this instance will have to be an exception. ‘I slept at Astor Place. I just got home late after the Hales invited me to dinner.’

Her face screws in disgust, but as she mules over my words, she doesn’t try to contradict me. After all, she won’t be able to confirm that with the Hales due to their enmity.

‘Step aside, Mrs. Pierce. I am here for the reading of the will and I will leave afterwards,’ I tell her squarely.

For a moment she doesn’t seem like she will comply, but Mr. Vaughan’s car stops in front of the car. As he gets out of it and comes towards us, she simply huffs her nose in the air and enters the house.

‘Good morning, Miss Darcy,’ Mr. Vaughan greets, his voice tinged with suspicion. ‘I dropped by your house to pick you up but you were not there.’

‘I walked,’ I shrug.

‘Nasty wound on your head,’ he suddenly mentions.

‘That,’ I unconsciously touch the bandage. ‘It’s just a little slip.’

‘If you say so,’ he shrugs, his eyes boring into me. ‘After you,’ he motions to the door, and I take a step inside.

All eyes are on me, the tension palpable.

They don’t have to say it out loud for me to realize they somehow blame me for Mr. Pierce’s death, though whose fault is it that he wasn’t dead in the first place?

If you ask me, I just righted a wrong.

‘Right,’ Mr. Vaughan mutters. ‘Let’s get this over with,’ he says as he takes a seat on the armchair in the living room. I sit myself on the opposite end while the family is close to him.

Grace is regarding me with pure contempt, and now even August looks as if he hates me.

Of course, Vicky doesn’t make it a secret that she hates me, one jibe after another coming my way.

Hussy.

Witch.

Bastard.

Well, I guess the third does fit.

‘As all of you can attest, this document is sealed,’ he removes a manila folder from his bag and shows us the official seal. ‘I will now open it and read it for everyone present.’

Mr. Vaughan then proceeds to read everything from the beginning.

When it comes to the split of the assets, I am surprised to see just how wealthy Leo Pierce was. He left his son the majority of the stakes in a shipping company, with a few split between Vicky and Grace. Aside from that, Vicky gets the main house as well as a few properties that Mr. Vaughan enumerates. Grace, on the other hand, doesn’t get anything more. Her eyes go wide when she realizes that was it for her. But if she is, in fact, not Leo Pierce’s daughter, than I’d say he was already generous enough to leave her anything.

My name is mentioned next.

‘To my daughter Darcy O’Sullivan, I leave the house at 12 Astor place and the sum of one million dollars.’

I blink repeatedly, unable to believe my ears.

One million dollars? That is a sum I would have never even dreamed about.

My mouth drops open in shock. But Mr. Vaughan is not done.

‘With the condition that she resides in Fairydale for a total of two full months,’ Mr. Vaughan pauses. ‘Today is September first. You will need to reside in Fairydale until November first to get the allotted sum of money.’

‘But… There was no condition for them…’ I point to the others.

‘Leo must have wished for you to get to know the family better,’ Mr. Vaughan makes the excuse, but I can’t wrap my head around it—around anything really.

‘Why did he pretend to be dead?’ I suddenly ask.

‘What? The gall on you, you little hussy,’ Vicky bursts out. ‘How dare you besmirch my husband’s name after what you did to him.’

‘I did nothing and you all know it,’ I rise to my feet, instinctively grabbing my purse and bag. ‘And he was pretending. Let’s not call it otherwise. What I don’t understand is why,’ I say exasperated as I look around me. ‘Why get me to come to Fairydale, and why make me stay another two months? Why was it so important for me to come here?’

‘Leo just wanted…’

‘Oh please, spare me that rehearsed speech,’ I roll my eyes. ‘He did not care about me one whit. So that begs the question. Why reach out at all? Just what do you want from me?’

Everyone is staring at me with unabashed disdain—so much so that I’m done with this.

Turning, I head straight for the exit, opening the door and squinting as a ray of sun hits my retina. I barely take a few steps outside when Mr. Vaughan comes after me.

‘Miss Darcy! If you leave Fairydale at any point before the two months are up, then you are forfeiting your inheritance. All of it,’ he tells me in a condescending tone.

‘So? What is it to you? Why would you want me to stay when I can see that you dislike me. You, Vicky and everyone in that goddamn house.’

I don’t swear. In fact, due to my upbringing at the orphanage under the tutelage of the nuns, I’ve always tried to avoid doing it. But in moments when my temper is tested—like now—the bad words simply come out.

Vicky doesn’t tarry in joining us, too, followed by Grace and August.

‘Let her, Mordechai. Let her leave. Let her lose the money. I don’t want to see her face again in our town!’ Vicky rages, and before I know it, she throws a bucket of water at me. ‘We want nothing to do with easy women around here.’

My eyes widen at the sudden insult, but really I should accept nothing else coming from her. Despite her initial welcome, she must have taken an immediate dislike of me for the mere fact that I am written in that will while her daughter is not.

‘Easy? Me? How about you look in the mirror first, Vicky dear. Your daughter doesn’t look much like Mr. Pierce, does she? Why, her eyes are the same shade as Mr. Vaughan’s.’ Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Her face drops, while Mr. Vaughan’s lips are pressed into a thin line.

‘Mom!’ Grace yells, clearly unaware of her true parentage. ‘Is that true? Tell me it’s not true.’

‘Darling, I…’ she stammers for a moment, truly at a loss of words, before she turns once more towards me, her features filled with vitriol.

One moment she’s a foot away from me, the next she has her hands in my hair, pulling with all her strength.

I yelp in pain, but as I push against her, nothing works.

‘I should also add that by leaving, the money will go to Vicky and her daughter,’ Mr. Vaughan adds from the sidelines in a bored tone, doing nothing to stop the catfight.

As soon as his words register, I realize what it means for this hateful woman and her brood. And though I was reluctant to part with the money in the first place, now I get to be petty too.

‘Don’t worry,’ I say between gasps as I’m wrestling with Vicky. ‘I’m not going anywhere. The money and the house are mine,’ I add emphatically, and Vicky snaps.

‘You damn hussy,’ she screams, about to launch herself at me once more.

But before she can do that, strong arms pull me closer, easily disentangling Vicky from my side and pushing her away—hard enough that she falls to the ground.

What…

‘That’s enough,’ his voice booms, and everyone suddenly stills.

‘Hale,’ Mr. Vaughan intones in an annoyed voice, while Grace yelps, ‘Caleb!’

Slowly turning my head, I look up and come face to face with my biggest nightmare.

‘Let go of me,’ I sneer, ready to go into full attack mode.

‘Shh,’ he leans to whisper in my ear. ‘Sheathe your claws for now, Darcy darlin’. We have a show to put on.’

No sooner did he say that than he redirects his attention to Mr. Vaughan.

‘I heard the terms of the will, Mordechai. Darcy will not leave Fairydale. As a matter of fact, she’s been invited to stay with my family for the duration of the visit, and as such she will have witnesses for the entirety of the specified duration.’

My head hurts as he speaks.

Stay with the family?

He means… He means me saying at the Hale manor? Where he lives? Where he could have access to me as he pleases?

No. Categorically no.

But as I try to speak, I find that I cannot.

I open my mouth, yet no sound comes out.

Panicking, I look around to see that they are deep in an argument, and in a matter of seconds Mr. Vaughan has a gun out, threatening Caleb to get off his property or he would kill him.

There are also screams.

Grace is crying.

Vicky is yelling.

August is also pointing a gun.

This is hell on earth.

Yet just as I think it will all blow up, Caleb swoops me up in his arms, taking me away.

It’s only when we’re a distance away from the Pierce house that I seemingly can move and talk again.

‘Let me go,’ I grit out.

Surprisingly, he puts me down.

Stepping away, his intense stare is on me as he peruses me from head to toe.

‘You weren’t at the cabin when I came back,’ his tone is even, his words punctured.

He’s not happy with me.

A shiver of fear goes down my back as I instinctively try to put more distance between us.

‘You think I would have stuck around after what you did to me?’ I ask, tears stabbing at my eyes again.

Seeing him like this, all perfectly put together, with his perfect face and perfect everything, and my heart breaks in my chest that he can act like nothing happened when everything happened.

‘What are you talking about?’ he frowns.

‘Don’t you dare pretend you don’t know,’ I accuse, raising my hand to wipe a tear from my cheek. ‘Don’t you dare, Caleb Hale! I’m going to the sheriff. I’ll tell him everything and…’

‘What, Darcy? What the hell are you talking about?’ he repeats, and the question is like an arrow to my heart.

‘You raped me,’ I hiss. ‘You raped me, Caleb, and you dare ask me what happened?’

He looks as if struck by lightning.

‘What did you say?’ he asks, this time his tone gentler, yet nonetheless holding the same firm quality to it.

‘You know exactly what I mean. I saw the evidence—the blood,’ I whimper at the memory, and pain assails me once more.

‘Darcy,’ he takes a step towards me, but I put my hand up to keep him from encroaching my personal space. ‘Darlin’, I never did that,’ he says in the softest voice. ‘I never raped you. You can’t possibly believe…’

‘There was blood,’ I croak. ‘You know I’ve never been with a man before. You know that.’ The more I speak of it, the more the tears won’t stop.

‘There was blood,’ he agrees. ‘From your wounds. You fell on a bed of rocks, Darcy. You hurt yourself all over,’ he explains as he tries to come closer again.

I shake my head.

‘You undressed me. You took everything off…’

‘Yes.’ There it is, the admission. ‘You were soaking wet. I couldn’t let you catch a chill. And that’s why I know all the places you injured yourself.’

‘But the blood…’

‘There was a small gash on your upper thigh. You can confirm its existence. It probably continued to bleed even after I put you to bed.’

What… No… There’s no way.

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘Darcy,’ he takes a deep breath. ‘Aside from the blood, do you feel sore between your legs?’

My brows pinch together at his question, and I slowly shake my head.

‘Do you feel any pain at all there,’ he continues, and once more, I shake my head. ‘Then there you have it, darlin’. Nothing happened. I promise you,’ he adds poignantly, and God, but I almost believe him.

My cheeks heat as he explains that for the amount of blood I’d seen, I would have had to tear down there pretty badly, and that would have resulted in intense pain. I don’t know how he knows all of that, but I have to admit that aside from the visible injuries, nothing else hurts—certainly not the area between my legs.

Now I feel foolish for jumping to conclusions, but after his previous behavior, how could I not?

‘Then what about before that? When you…’

‘When I…’ He raises a brow.

‘You were asking me all those inappropriate questions, telling me I was your bad girl and…’

‘Darcy,’ he says my name as if horrified. ‘Darlin’, I think we need to get you to a medic as fast as we can. I didn’t think you hit your head that bad but… That never happened.’

‘What? What are you talking about? You said that. You insinuated I was easy. That I…’

‘I never did any of that, darlin’,’ he sighs, exasperated. ‘It started raining when we reached the cabin. When you got out of the car you tripped and fell on the bed of rocks right next to it. You were out of it the entire afternoon.’

Blinking, I can’t believe what he’s saying. I know what happened.

‘That’s not true. You were sick and I helped you to the cabin. Then I went to pick some plants to make you tea and… Your eyes. They were red!‘

‘Red eyes?’ A look of horror flashes across his face. ‘Darcy darlin’, you’re worrying me. That never happened.’

‘What?’ I ask in shock.

What does he mean it never happened? I remember it clearly.

‘I was never sick. And you never went to pick out plants. Please, think about it.’

No, that can’t be…

I stare at him in befuddlement as I replay every event from the day before. His words ring in my ear…the way he’d behaved… I can’t possibly have imagined all of it.

Yet as I think back to this morning, I admit to myself that there was no trace of the fire I’d built, not even ash left behind. I hadn’t noticed that then as I was in a hurry to leave.

At the same time I have a hard time grasping how this could have all been a product of my imagination. Because…how?

A whimper escapes me.

Dear God… Can he be right? Is this all in my head? Was it another dream?

‘Darcy…’ he calls my name with such heartfelt longing that I can’t help but raise my gaze to his, finding only sincerity.

There are no signs of deception. Only worry. And that makes me more confused than ever.

‘Can I come closer,’ he asks, and God, it’s like he’s an entirely different person than the one from yesterday—the one from my dream?

I give him a brisk nod and he wastes no time in pulling me to his chest, hugging me tightly.

‘I’m so sorry I left this morning, but I had to get to town and get more supplies. You have no idea how scared I was when I found you gone. But please believe me that nothing like that happened. I would never touch you without your permission, you know that?’ he murmurs, drawing back to see my expression.

Do I? Do I know that?

‘I don’t know you, Caleb,’ I speak slowly, the information from before slowly settling in. ‘That means I also don’t trust you. I realize now it was a mistake to get in your car yesterday, and it’s a mistake to be with you alone…’

‘Don’t. Oh, darlin’, don’t say that. I want us to get to know each other. It’s why I promised I’d vouch for you with Mordechai. I want you near,’ he declares.

Biting my lip, I regard him quietly for a moment.

‘I don’t know,’ I whisper.

How can one go from hating someone so much one moment, to finding out the hate was based on nothing? How can I react to that?

This morning I was ruing the day I ever set eyes on him, but now his soft words and gentle looks make me reconsider everything.

‘I won’t rush you with anything. Just let me take care of you,’ he whispers as he slowly pats my hair. ‘I don’t have any nefarious intentions with you, Darcy. On the contrary. My intentions are all honorable.’

‘What do you mean?’ I suddenly pull back, frowning.

‘Exactly what you think I mean,’ he smiles.

I’m struck speechless. I stare at him and I cannot comprehend anything.

Is he handsome? Yes. Is he entirely dreamy? Also yes. But there’s also something else about him—the same sinister energy I felt in my dreams, I still feel now.

But maybe it’s just this town messing with my head. That and the fact that with each passing day I turn more and more like Catherine.

I wonder what’s next. Ghosts? Demons? Zombies?

‘We could get to know each other,’ I finally relent.

If it was all a dream, then it’s not fair to keep him accountable for something that’s solely a product of my imagination. Yet that doesn’t erase the fact that I’m wary about him—about everything he makes me feel.

Perhaps that’s the issue. I’ve never felt like this before, so I’m unsure whether this fluttering in my stomach is because I’m drawn to him, or because he instills in me terror unlike I’ve ever known.

He gives me the biggest grin.

‘But,’ I put a finger up. ‘I’m not moving into the Hale house. I’m staying at Astor Place,’ I tell him firmly. ‘You will take me on dates, in public. And I don’t know what you may think of me, but I’m not modern like other girls. I will not sleep with you, or anyone else, until marriage.’

An amused look crosses his face at my list of demands, but he doesn’t protest any.

‘Anything else?’ he chuckles.

‘As a matter of fact, yes. I want a notarized statement about your finances. If you say you are serious about me, then I must be certain it is not because of my inheritance.’

At that, he laughs.

‘Ah, Darcy darlin’, you’re a gem.’

I narrow my eyes on him.

‘Of course. You’ll have your statement. I can vouch that I am not penniless, nor am I a fortune hunter. I happen to have quite a sizable net worth.’

‘Well,’ I push my chin up, ‘you better.’

Still laughing, he tugs me closer, his arms coming around me as he keeps me fitted to his body.

Despite everything that happened, my own body reacts to the nearness, my heart skipping a beat just as my stomach does some odd somersaults.

‘Why don’t I take you on a date now, then?’ he murmurs in my ear.

My cheeks heat up and I nod.

‘But first, we’re visiting the medic.’

I don’t protest as he leads me to his car, taking me to the medic’s office. After all, I am worried about it as well.

How could I have made up entire interactions in my head? How could I have come up with such scenarios?

The office ends up being a short distance away, and luckily, the primary physician is Emmet Bailey, a friend of the Hales, which allows me to go in without an appointment.

‘The wound looks good,’ he notes as he examines my head injury. ‘You did well to clean it and dress it, Caleb.’

‘Could I have hallucinated because of it?’

He nods.

‘It’s highly probable. But I don’t think there should be more reason to worry. I’ll dress the wound again and prescribe you some medication in case you get a headache,’ he goes on to show me how to dress the wound by myself after I take a shower, and advises me to visit again if I have problems with hallucinations again.

Caleb is leaning against the wall, intently watching Dr. Bailey’s every move. Tension radiates from him, and even Dr. Bailey can feel it, every now and then glancing at him for approval before touching me. And every time, Caleb barely gives him a strained nod, as if that small acquiesce costs him everything.

‘Let’s tend the other injuries,’ he says, asking me to show him the gash on my thigh.

‘That will be enough for today, Emmet,’ he interjects in a thick voice. ‘I’m sure Darcy can do that herself.’

A look of confusion crosses Dr. Bailey’s face for a moment before he takes a step back, his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender.

‘Of course,’ he readily acquiesces, adding a few more bandages to my package.

Not a few minutes later and we’re out of the office. Caleb has a tight expression on his face, his fists clenched by his side and I can’t figure out what set him off.

‘What’s wrong?’ I grab his shirt, stopping him. ‘Did something happen?’

Turning, he takes a deep breath, his eyes glinting dangerously as he regards me.

‘I don’t like other men’s hands on you, Darcy,’ he drawls. ‘I thought I could bear it for your sake. But all I could think of was him touching your pretty face and your delicate neck and I was close to losing it,’ he exhales. ‘I’m still close to losing it,’ he admits as he brings his gaze to mine, showing me all the turmoil hiding there.

‘It was just a checkup, Caleb,’ I add softly, patting him lightly on the shoulder. ‘Dr. Bailey was just doing his job.’

‘Because I didn’t do mine,‘ he rasps.

I frown.

‘I didn’t protect you. I’m sorry about that, precious,’ he whispers, cupping my face between his big hands and leaning in to place a kiss right next to my injury.

‘It happens,’ I laugh nervously, though my skin tingles from where it met his lips.

‘It shouldn’t. Not to you. Not now, nor ever,’ he says vehemently. ‘You’re mine to take care of, Darcy darlin’. You get that?’

My lashes flutter in confusion.

He hasn’t even taken me on a date and he’s already claiming me as his?

‘It’s too early for that, Caleb,’ I force a smile on my face as I draw back.

He narrows his eyes at me.

‘I don’t think you understand me, Darcy,’ he punctuates each word. ‘You belong to me,’ he growls. ‘I might go slow for you, but don’t imagine for one moment that you’re not mine.’

Pursing my lips, I don’t know how to reply. I know that if I protest he’s going to turn even more overbearing. Instead, I merely give him a tentative smile.

Caleb Hale is an enigma I can’t solve.

Add in the fact that I’m having trouble differentiating reality from hallucination, and I simply don’t know how to read him or his intentions.

As we get in the car, he suggests we go to one of the less popular diners in town for lunch—and our first official date.

I agree, though after the last time at the diner, I’m not too thrilled to come face to face with the townsfolk who’d decided I must be the Devil’s disciple.

‘You’re quiet,’ Caleb notes as he drives. ‘Does your wound still pain you?’

I shake my head.

‘Still ruminating over what happened yesterday,’ I admit.

‘I thought we moved past that.’

‘We did but,’ I take a deep breath. ‘I fear something’s wrong with me, Caleb,’ I confess. ‘It’s not the first time this has happened—these hallucinations…’

‘What do you mean?’ he turns to me, frowning.

‘Ever since I came here. Weird things have been happening around me. And I don’t know if they’re all in my mind or…’ I bite my lip in apprehension. ‘But everyone saw how Leo Pierce died, and that wasn’t normal. I just no longer know what is real and what is not…’

‘Darcy,’ my name on his lips is like a tender caress.

Slowing the car down, he stops it by the side of the road so he can give me his full attention.

‘There’s nothing wrong with you,’ he takes my hand in his, massaging my pulse point with his thumb. ‘You’re in a new place, and people have behaved horribly towards you. It’s normal to be a little stressed.’

‘You think it’s stress?’ I ask on a whisper.

‘I think you’re overwhelmed. Maybe Leo’s death affected you more than you realized?’ he offers, a tight smile on his face.

‘How could someone just burst into flames?’ I mumble, the memory from the day before still fresh in my mind. ‘But more than anything, why aren’t people more concerned about it?’ I ask the question that had plagued me from the beginning.

Aside from a few insults from the Pierces, no one had seemed too surprised—not only at his sudden resurrection, but also the manner of his subsequent death. No one had tried to step in to help either, merely watching his death from the sidelines. As if it was, indeed, a regular occurrence.

Then there were those interactions at the diner—they had been bawdy and tawdry in the beginning but the moment I hinted at actually being a witch, everyone had been terrified.

‘Fairydale people aren’t strangers to odd deaths. Just as they aren’t strangers with the more…occult ways of life.’

‘What do you mean?’ I frown.

‘It’s not something I can explain. It’s something you’ll have to witness by yourself,’ he chuckles.

‘Well, I’m not sure I want to,’ I grumble, already dreading the two months I’d promised to stay.

‘You should never worry about anything while you’re here, Darcy darlin’,’ he murmurs. ‘There may be forces beyond our understanding. There may be black and white, dark and light, evil and good. There may be opposites… But you, you’ll forever be safe in the gray.’

I wet my lips, regarding him intently as I try to decipher his words.

‘Are you saying there is something evil in this town?’

His lip curls up in a smug smile.

‘Is there?’ he muses knowingly. ‘If there is, I’ll make sure it never touches you,’ he winks at me playfully, and a blush suffuses my cheeks. ‘Now let’s get you some food. I wouldn’t be much of a boyfriend if I let my darlin’ go hungry, would I?’

‘Hey,’ I jab my elbow in his side. ‘Who said you’re my boyfriend? I haven’t agreed to anything,’ I fight the smile on my lips.

‘Oh but you will, Darcy darlin’,’ he chuckles as he starts the engine. ‘You will.’

The journey to the town square is filled with teasing and laughter, and I slowly let my guard down, forgetting my previous reservations about Caleb.

He’s handsome, charming, and has a silver tongue. And though I feel myself succumbing deeper and deeper under his spell, I don’t forget the fact that he never answered my initial question about Leo’s death, or its reception.

Just how odd are the deaths in Fairydale?

When we get to the square, we slow down as we notice a crowd of people in front of the Fairydale monument.

‘What’s happening?’ I ask as I try to get a better view.

He shrugs.

‘We can take a look. The diner is in that direction anyway.’

Parking the car a distance away, he comes to my side to open my door as he takes my hand in his. Not for the first time, a wave of pure electricity travels down my back from the touch of his skin on mine.

He feels it, too, going by the way his gaze flickers as he looks me in the eye.

For a moment, neither speaks as his fingers curl around my hand before sliding towards my wrist, holding lightly and bringing it to his mouth.

Still holding me captive with his gaze, he slowly—ever so slowly—parts his lips over my pulse point, giving me a short but sensuous kiss.

I am so attuned to his every move that the prolonged contact of his lips on top of my skin is making me pant, my breath coming out in short, shallow spurts, my brain disconnecting from reality.

Yet just as I find myself caught in his spell, I’m once more startled by a change in scenery.

It only lasts for a second, but everything decays around us, turning black and bleak. Darkness suffuses my field of view, the color of his eyes morphing before my very gaze. From the previous impenetrable black, they turn a phosphorescent blue before red—blood—bleeds out of them.

I blink, and everything is back to normal.

His lips are still on my flesh just as his gaze dips to my mouth, making me curious what it would feel like if…

Heat travels up my cheeks and I eventually avert my eyes. But not before I notice the look of pure hunger that overtakes his features.

‘Shall we?’ He arranges my hand in the crook of his elbow as he leads me towards the crowd.

I strain a smile, hoping to look unaffected when I’m anything but.

Never in my life have I felt so conflicted about something, and it’s more than just me feeling out of my element under male attention. It’s the pure fact that Caleb Hale is like a drug to my senses, tantalizing and dazzling me until I lose track of everything around me.

And if I give in—if I embrace this newly found addiction—I fear I might never be the same.

My thoughts are interrupted by the spectacle surrounding the monument. People are yelling and cursing, their voices getting louder and louder until it’s hard to ignore the words tossed around.

Dead.

Murder.

Killer.

Caleb frowns, and taking my hand, he tugs me closer to his side.

‘Stay close to me,’ he whispers.

A few more steps and we have a front row at the carnage.

My hand flies to my mouth as a gasp escapes me.

The monument, an angel with spread wings, is fully coated in blood.

Blood that’s dripping from the three people defiled on top of the statue.

But the worst? I recognize each and every one of them.

‘Caleb… What the hell is this?’ I ask in a tremulous voice.

‘You shouldn’t look,’ he purses his lips, moving in an attempt to shield me.

‘No, don’t,’ I stop him. ‘I know them. All three,’ I barely manage the words out loud.

The first one is Vicky. Her organs have been emptied from her chest cavity, and instead she’s been stuffed with newspaper clippings—all of them containing unfavorable terms.

Crook. Thief. Adulteress.

Every clipping is depicting one sin she’s allegedly guilty of.

I swallow down, the sight pitiful as it is horrifying.

Her face is forever frozen in pain, her mouth open, her eyes wide, and I wonder if the killer tortured her before killing her.

For all her nasty behavior towards me, I would have never wished something like this upon anyone.

Yet it gets worse.

The next man is stuck on the angel wing, the stone passing right through his gut.

I know him, too. I recognize him as the man who’d pinched my bottom at the diner the day before.

But if these two had been coincidences, both residents of Fairydale, the third one can’t possibly be.

He’s at the feet of the angel, his head in his lap after a very clean decapitation. Yet I remember his features perfectly—the dirty hair and bloodshot eyes.

He’s the man who stole my luggage at the Ipswich station.

Despite not wanting to let my mind wander to the worst scenario, it’s simply impossible.

These three people all have something in common.

And that’s…me.

The other townsfolk are all crossing themselves and saying the Hail Mary, with some brave ones stepping forward to help the sheriff remove the bodies from the statue.

They successfully do so with Vicky’s body and the second man. But when they reach the third, they stop for a moment as they don’t recognize him. And since he’s not a local, they set about searching his pockets for any form of identification.

‘What’s that?’ One of the men asks as something falls out of his front pocket.

‘It’s a notebook,’ the sheriff frowns, picking it up. The moment it’s in his hands, I know exactly what it is—my journal.

‘Darcy O’Sullivan,’ he reads the name on the first page.

I freeze. Caleb’s hold tightens on me, as he can undoubtedly recognize what will follow.

‘Isn’t that the new girl in town?’

‘Pierce’s illegitimate girl.’

‘Fuck me! It’s the girl that made him catch fire!’ Another exclaims.

‘She didn’t do it,’ someone yelled, while another man said I did.

‘You need to question her, sheriff!’

‘We need to leave,’ Caleb whispers in my ear, slowly moving me away from the crowd in an effort to be undetected.

The voices get louder and louder until suddenly they stop.

‘That’s her!’ A man yells, and turning, I note they’re all pointing their fingers at me.

‘Quickly! Stop her!’ They all scream in a chorus, hurrying to catch up with us.

Caleb is right ahead of them as he pulls me into his arms, running with me at full speed. His physical condition is flawless, and it only takes a few seconds to reach the car.

Swinging the door open, he lowers me inside while he dashes to the other side and getting into the driver’s seat.

‘Hold on, darlin’. We’re about to go at full speed.’

He starts the engine, swiftly changing gears and driving the car in the opposite direction as a mob of people run towards us.

My entire body is shaking at this point, both from the shock of seeing the slaughtered bodies, and from the reactions of the people—all blaming me.

Yet despite knowing I had nothing to do with it—not personally, in any event—I can’t help but feel that they all died because of me.

Somehow, I am the link.

But how?

As we pass by the monument again, I’m struck by something else. Right next to the bodies is the same old man I’d seen at the funeral. The one who’d been conversing with Vicky and Mr. Vaughan. And despite their previous chummy interaction, he’s sitting by the body with complete disinterest.

He’s holding a cane in his right hand, and something on top of the handle shines bright in the sunlight—almost blinding me in the process.

When I finally manage to blink away the painful light, my eyes meet his.

His mouth curves upwards in a smug expression, his lips moving slowly as he’s miming a word.

‘Soon,’ I spell out the word.

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

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