Touched by Fire (Demons of New Chicago #1) - Kel Carpenter Page 0,40
just sucks.”
Going against everything I knew about driving, I looked away from the road. Her face was sincere, even if her words weren’t the usual standard party line I’d heard.
I’m sorry for your loss.
My condolences.
Not all witches are bad.
The list of things I’d heard over the years went on and on, each one more infuriating than the last. But I could honestly say that no one had dared to just call it like it was.
“Yeah,” I said slowly, turning back to the road. “It does suck.” I had to jerk us back between the lanes, and if Nathalie had thoughts about my driving, she smartly kept them to herself.
We drove the rest of the way in comfortable silence. It wasn’t exactly far where we were going; just far enough to put some distance between us and the people hunting us. Far enough that I could think without my door being blown off.
I pulled off the mostly deserted highway. Two rights and a left put us on a poorly paved back road. I followed it down till the pavement crumbled and then kept driving. At the end of the line, a dirt road took off into the woods where a somewhat kept driveway used to be. Branches scratched the top of the car as I slowed to a crawl, knowing where to drive only from memory. Vines and grass had grown where there used to be dirt. Trees towered on either side of the long drive. We pushed through the worst of it, and when it was only dead grass between us and the cabin, I parked and cut the engine.
Cities weren’t as loud as they’d once been. New Chicago certainly wasn’t. While the wind still blew, the lack of sirens, fewer vehicles, and fewer people made it quieter. Seedier.
Still, it was nothing like being in the true wilderness. The sun peeked through breaks in the canopy, and the birds chirped as I stepped out of the old Honda.
Memories from the last time I was at the cabin danced in front of my eyes.
It had been the summer before I turned sixteen.
“You okay?” Nathalie asked, coming to stand beside me.
I took a deep breath and turned away from those memories. It was the past, and it needed to stay there. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
I opened the back door and threw the duffel bag over one shoulder, and then went around to the other side to grab the unconscious woman. Her head lolled against my shoulder as I carried her toward the cabin. The steps creaked under my boots, but they held firm as I climbed up to the wraparound porch.
This house didn’t have any kind of magical lock, and the shitty turnkey one it had we’d never bothered with. With magic in the world, my father didn’t see the point in locking it. If someone wanted to get in, they would. And anyone else could just smash the windows or break down the door. It was better to keep it open and hope they took whatever they were after, leaving the place without destroying it.
I hoped that after ten years it was still intact, though I had my doubts.
Shuffling the girl to one side, I leaned against the door and used the side of my hand to turn the knob. The door opened with an eerie creak.
The blinds were closed, and the generator wasn’t on yet, but just from what little light came through the doorway, I could make out the living area. A couch and two oversized armchairs sat on top of an antique rug. A chipped coffee table rested in the middle.
I stepped inside, noting how it was all there, the same way we’d left it.
It was the only thing that was the same a decade later.
“Where are we?” Nathalie asked, coming up behind me.
“My family’s cabin.”
I laid the girl down on the couch and walked around the back of it. A small dining area with a circular wooden table and four chairs sat in front of the sliding back door. I pushed the thick drapes aside, letting the afternoon sun shine through.
While everything was covered in an inch of dust, it was completely undisturbed.
“There’s no food here,” Nathalie said from the kitchen. She had all the cabinets open and was peering into one when I looked over at her.
“Even if there was, it wouldn’t be good by now. We’ll make do with what I brought.”
She sighed, closing up the cabinets. “Is there a bathroom here?”