This Poison Heart (This Poison Heart #1) - Kalynn Bayron Page 0,33

trees bent unnaturally, groaning loudly as they leaned away from the facade of an overgrown stone structure.

A towering iron gate peeked through the tangle of mulberry-purple bougainvillea like a wicked, rusty smile. Thick, thorny vines crawled along the top of the wall like giant snakes. I craned my neck to see if this led to someone else’s property, but the wall wasn’t longer than maybe two buses parked end to end. It was some kind of enclosure.

I took the second letter out of my bag and opened it.

Briseis,

Behind this gate is a garden with all the plants needed to stock the apothecary. I have no doubt that you’ve seen inside the shop, and while you might not understand completely, I trust you will . . . ​in time. It has been a pillar of this community for generations.

Open the letter marked #3 when you come to the moon gate. This is where I’m sure most of your questions will be answered.

Something snapped in the woods behind me. I spun around as a man emerged from the trees on the other side of the glade. Blood trickled from a large cut on his forehead. His bottom lip was split clean open. His clothing hung off him, torn to shreds. He stumbled forward.

“You—you’re here,” he gasped, his chest heaving.

I backed into the gate and palmed my Mace, pointing it straight at him.

Welts bubbled on his skin as he limped closer. His breaths rattled, tight and labored, like he was breathing through a straw. “After all this time . . . ​so many years,” he said. The gashes on his skin opened like budding flowers, blood dripping like crimson sap.

I’d walked so far into the woods that no one would hear me if I screamed. With my back to the gate, I couldn’t run. I’d have to have to spray him—maybe fight him. I squared my shoulders as he approached. He was taller than me, but very thin, and he was much older. His outstretched fingers were swollen and blistering and as he angled himself toward me, his other hand came into view.

He was gripping a long, machete-like knife.

“Get away from me! Get back!”

“I—I need—I need it,” the man stammered. He was an arm’s length away, and I couldn’t back up any farther. “Please, Selene.”

“Selene? I’m not—”

A rustle over my head drew my attention. A duo of vines slithered off the top of the enclosure and struck out like giant arms, catching the man in a tangle of poisoned barbs. He screamed as they lifted him off the ground and tossed him into the tree line like a rag doll. His head hit the trunk of a maple tree with a sickening thud, and the knife bounced from his hand. Rolling onto his side, he clawed at the dirt. His groans turned to panicked yelps as the vines found him again and wound around his ankles.

I ran to the path leading away from the glade and looked back, only once, to see the man’s terrified face as a blanket of stinging nettles pulled itself over him like a shroud.

I sprinted down the path toward the house, my heart in my throat. I crashed through the woods, burst through the curtain of nettle, and ran up the sloping lawn. Racing to the front door I all but kicked it in and slammed it shut, locking it behind me.

Mom came into the hall. “We slammin’ doors now?” she asked, her eyes narrow.

How was I supposed to explain what I’d seen? “There’s a guy out there! In the woods!”

Mo came barreling down the stairs. “What? Where?”

Mom sprinted to her purse and grabbed her Taser.

“Outside! By the back of the house!”

Mo peered out the window as Mom dialed Dr. Grant’s number, cursing under her breath.

“Are the other doors locked?” Mo asked, her voice rising.

Mom rushed off to check while she yelled into the phone. “You said to call you directly, and somebody else is creeping around the house. How fast can you get here?”

Mo turned her attention to me. She clenched her jaw as she looked me over. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” I said. “I’m okay. Just a little freaked out.” I was still trying to catch my breath, still trying to put together what had happened.

Mom came rushing back to the entryway and we stood together, silent, until the sound of sirens echoed in the distance. The screeching of tires skidding across the pavement and car doors opening and slamming shut drew Mo to the door. She

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