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“Come to me.”
Annalise awoke, strangely relieved to find herself still in Adam’s room and disappointed to find herself alone. The dark curtain covering the window illuminated with a pre-dawn glow of silver and blue. She swept her hair away from her face and touched her toes to the cool wood flooring.
“Come to me.”
Adam’s voice whispered through the walls. Her gown fell in gossamer ripples to the floor. Though the morning light shined through the curtains, the hall was dark.
“Adam?”
“Come to me.”
She stepped into the hall only to find herself standing amid a dark forest. Creatures chirped and hummed from every direction. The skeletal silhouette of a leafless tree towered in the distance. She’d been here before.
“Adam?” Her call echoed, emphasizing the hollow distance and vastness that surrounded her.
She strode deeper into the woods, not yet penetrated by the encroaching dawn. The fresh air wore the scent of rain, awakening the earthy smells of the forest and pulling her deeper into its secrets.
Dragging her fingers along the palm of a long fern, she sucked in a breath and jerked her fingers to her mouth. The metallic taste of blood met her tongue.
She examined the damage. Nothing more than a paper cut. She should keep moving.
Her next step landed awkwardly, and she slipped, catching a branch and steadying her balance. She lifted the piece of fruit that tripped her. An orange.
The bright golden peel vibrantly contrasted the gray surroundings. Her thumb pierced the rind and the fruit split open, a sticky trickle escaping down her thumb to her wrist and racing all the way to her elbow.
So thirsty.
She pulled the rind apart, drawing the dark red pulp to her lips and sucking the juice. “Mmm.”
She peeled more of the skin and sank her teeth into the fruit. The pulp was so dark with juice, the inner pink flesh stained her fingers with crimson. It must be a blood orange. She drank from the tissue, a crush of flavor so intense she spared nothing.
Drippings dampened the front of her gown, but for the first time in a long time, her thirst was quenched. But only for a moment.
She tossed the hollow rind away and continued toward an old tree that drew her near. The air wore a sweet perfume that lured her.
Chirps clicked and squeaked from unseen shadows, materializing in a tonal roar so loud it seemed audibly tangible. Her thirst returned. The sultry heat drained her body until she could barely swallow.
She searched the forest floor for water. A brook or a puddle. Anything. But the ground wavered and her equilibrium shifted. When she looked up, a plump orange dangled from a decrepit branch as if it were a relic from the Garden of Eden, placed there simply to tempt her.
She pulled it from the vine and ripped it open, gorging herself on the sweet center. She fed from the fruit with such gluttony she lost sight of her surroundings.
Something brushed her foot and she lifted her face from the orange, her lips dripping with crimson and her tongue slowly licking along her teeth.
The insidious chirping smothered all other sound, darkness snuffing out all light. The tree rippled as if the branches were alive and something tumbled to the ground.
She staggered on the unsteady ground, the earth tickling at her feet, hoping to find another orange. She squinted through the dark as something, no larger than a hummingbird, flapped and tossed around on the ground. She edged closer, trying to see if it was wounded.
The incessant chirping and squeaking had her hands subconsciously lifting to her ears. When she finally got close enough to see, she froze. Not a bird. A bat. And it wasn’t the only one.
Her gaze jerked to the tree, the branches bending under their overwhelming weight. Hundreds of bats gathered along every square inch, squeezing in wherever they could fit and fighting for whatever was underneath.
She stepped back only to trip over a twisted root and fall to the ground. The deafening screeching swallowed her scream as one looked directly at her and hissed, exposing twin fangs. It crawled on all fours, little claws protruding from the wings like talons.
Red dripped from its rumpled snout. She crab crawled away as it charged toward her, and slipped to her elbows when it rose on its tiny hind legs and spread its wings.
The ground rippled against her skin, something sharp puncturing her thigh and she screamed. They were everywhere. Thousands of tiny bats crawling like spiders to get to her skin.
Swarms of them crawled over her limbs, pulling her down as she screamed. Clammy wings slapped against her flesh as their fangs pierced her skin. Tiny sores burned everywhere they bit. Like furry frogs, they squealed in the night, their cries overlapping and swallowing her own.
Blood seeped through her gown as they dug their claws into her, biting into her flesh. She thrashed and scraped her hands down her legs and torso, ripping their teeth from her skin and flinging them away, but they kept coming.
One bit into her throat and pure hysteria took hold as she screamed for help.
“Annalise!”
Her body jerked and the screeching stopped. Shaking and panting with jagged breath, she opened her eyes. Adam wore a pained look of concern, begging her to focus and look into his eyes.
“Look at me, Anna. I have you.”
Disoriented, she scanned the room. A dream. But how much was a dream?
He cupped her cheek and she flinched away from his touch. He frowned and whispered, “You’re safe.”
She glanced at the door, unsure where the dream started, and reality had left off. “I’m still here.”
His brow tightened. “You said you would stay.”
She swallowed, tasting a hint of sweetness on her tongue. She looked at her thumb, examining it for a cut.
“What’s wrong?”
“I cut myself.” She thought she had.
“When?”
“It was just a dream.” She dropped her hand and he grabbed it. When she tried to pull away, he tightened his grip and gave her a warning look.
“Let me see.” He unfolded her fingers and studied her hand. He drew in a deep breath through his nose. “You’re not bleeding.”
“I know. It was just a nightmare.”
He continued to hold her hand and frown. “Explain it to me.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Please.”
She twisted her lips. “I thought you were calling me. I heard you, but I couldn’t find you. I followed your voice into the woods.”
“You’re sure it was my voice?”
“I thought... I’m not sure.” She didn’t know what was more unsettling, when he acted like he shared her dreams or when he acted like he took no part in them. “This is stupid.”
“No. Tell me more. You followed a voice into the woods...”
She ran a hand over her face. “There was this big tree and I was eating oranges—blood oranges. And this horrible screeching. Everything was black and gray, and it was hard to see. I was incredibly thirsty, but the oranges tasted so good. Then there were bats everywhere, but not normal ones. These were tiny, with fangs, and they sort of flopped and crawled. They were biting me, and I couldn’t fight them off.”
“They were feeding from you?”
She shivered. “Yes.” Her hands brushed down her arms where phantom bites still tingled.
“What did the voice say?”
“Come to me.”
“Anything else?”
“No, it just kept calling come to me, come to me. It’s like I was compelled to follow it.”
He released her hand and sat back, a deep frown furrowing his brow. “I need to speak to my grandfather.”
He climbed off the bed and she caught his arm. “You’re leaving?”
“I won’t be long.”
Yesterday she would have given anything to be left unsupervised, but she didn’t want him to leave when she was still shaken from the dream. “Can I come with you?”
Appearing surprised by her request, he stilled. Cupping her face, he looked in her eyes. “I promise I’ll be back as soon as possible. My mother and Gracie are in the kitchen. They’ll keep you company.”
She frowned, disliking the sense that he might be hiding something from her. “Why do you need to see your grandfather?”
“I want to ask him about your dreams.”
His open disclosure eased her suspicions. “Does this have to do with your illness? The cure?”
“Perhaps. But don’t worry. My grandfather’s old and very knowledgeable. He’ll have answers.”
“I still want to get you to a real doctor, Adam. If you’re sick, you should at least get a second opinion.” She didn’t want to utter the C word, but she needed to know what sort of illness he was up against. “Is it ... cancer?”
His lips parted, but he hesitated. “I have something they don’t have a name for. Modern medicine can’t help me, ainsicht. Only you.”
This was how people died because some cult convinced them modern medicine was evil. She’d keep pressing. For now, she nodded. “Hurry back.”
“I will.” He brushed a kiss on her lips, startling her, but pulling back too fast for her to object. Her fingers touched her lips staring as he left the room.
She finagled her way into a dress Grace must have left for her. She tried to pin the apron as best she could but couldn’t quite attach it to the smock thing as seamlessly as Grace and Abilene wore theirs.
Re-braiding her hair, she then stuffed it in a bonnet and tiptoed into the hall. First, she needed to visit the outhouse.
As she washed her hands, she noticed a small pot and toothbrush sitting on the hand towel. Her name scrolled across small paper and she unfolded it. The writing appeared feminine.
Annalise,
Please let me know if there is anything else you need to make your stay more comfortable.
~Abilene
Such a little gift and yet it brought immense gratitude. Washing up for the day left her with a sense of normalcy that had been lacking the day before.
On her way back to the house, something caught her eye and she paused. Only then did her surroundings sink in.
She stared in awe at the vast openness that surrounded her. Nature’s majesty, unmarked by modernization, and only reverently touched by man.
Mountains lifted the horizon, bundled in rich green pine. Fields formed a patchwork of browns and clover, so undisturbed that she could scent the sunshine dancing in the unrefined wind rolling over the land.
The candid view of nature filled her with sorrow for all the places she’d seen, none of them coming close to this level of beauty. This was how the world looked before modernization swept the nation, blotting what she could only describe as God’s masterpiece.
Startled by the stray thought of a higher power, she frowned. This place was getting to her. These people were getting to her.
She stood in the open for several minutes, completely alone with only her thoughts and the wind. If they worried she might escape, they certainly hid their concern well. She could easily just keep on walking.
She stared at the horizon, marking the endless nothingness in all four directions. No sign of modern civilization for miles. Field after field stretched before her, never meeting more than the blue sky.
“You’ll give yourself heatstroke before you make it off the property.”
Startled by the interruption, she spun and found Grace watching her. “I wasn’t going to leave.”
“But you were considering it.”
Adam’s sister was turning out to be a real pain in the ass.
“I resent that.”
She opened her mouth to apologize, but hesitated, remembering she hadn’t said anything to begin with.
Grace pivoted into the house and called over her shoulder, “Come inside if you want to eat.”
She followed her into the kitchen. No sign of Abilene. A plate, heaped with pancakes, eggs, and sausage waited on the table.
“Have a seat.” Grace pulled out a chair.
She hadn’t eaten enough yesterday, and her stomach was not happy. “Thank you.”
Grace sat across from her and stared expectantly as Anna ate.
Feeling slightly on display, she kept her gaze on her food. “The eggs are good.”
“How did last night go?”
Her fork stilled and her face burned. Memories of Adam kissing her filled her mind and warmth pulled in her belly.
“I guess that’s an improvement.”
“How are you doing that?” Anna snapped.
“Sorry. It’s a gift. I’m not trying to overhear your thoughts. You’re sort of screaming them at me. And don’t worry about Adam’s virtue. He plans to marry you.”
She put down her fork and wiped her mouth. “Which way’s the closest highway?”
“You can’t leave!”
“Adam said I could do whatever I want.”
“Why would he...” She gasped. “You trust him.”
“No.”
“Yes, you do. It’s why you’re not as angry as you were yesterday.”
“I’m still angry. I’m probably flunking my classes and my boss is going to fire me if I don’t call soon.”
“A boss isn’t as important as a mate. You should only worry about answering to Adam.”
“That’s not how this is going to work and I’m not his mate.”
“But you are.”
“Grace.”
She smiled and dropped the subject. Anna picked up her fork and continued eating.
“What does that even mean? Mate?” She grumbled under her breath.
“Are you actually asking?”
“No!”
Grace giggled. “You sure are contrary.”
She shrugged. “I’m just out of my element.” Glancing out the window, she spotted a large horse towing a wagon across a field. “It’s so pretty here.”
Grace looked at her and Anna had the sense she could see what her home looked like. “I’m sure Adam won’t mind if you take a walk. Just don’t stray too far from the house. He’d be upset if we lost you.”
“You mean if I ran?”
“Or that.”
After eating a surprisingly large breakfast, she decided a walk would be lovely. There were no echoes of cars or human life anywhere. The sheer tranquility slowed her thoughts, as she savored every pleasant detail.
Barns and houses dotted the distant countryside. As she passed a stone house she spotted an Amish woman hanging laundry on the line. According to the little she knew of the Amish, they never stopped working, but none of them appeared displeased with their circumstances.
As a matter of fact, everyone she’d met greeted her with a pleasantness that seemed unhindered by social status or ulterior motive, a noteable contrast to the manners people used at home. These people were honest and purposeful. Their existence was steeped in practicality and simplicity.
The more she saw, the more she envied their uncluttered lives. It seemed such a straightforward way of living, without the menacing presence of social media or advertisements cramming expectations down her throat. It was... peaceful.
For all of the technologies available to the average man and woman, how many actually made life easier? Of course she needed a car to get to work, but here cars weren’t necessary. How bad could it be? They literally had everything they needed to survive right here.
She passed another man working in a field, and another. Everyone looked so young and healthy. All that fresh air and hard labor must work wonders. It explained how Adam had such an incredible physique.
She couldn’t recall ever noticing how handsome Amish men could be. There seemed something different about this order. They didn’t wear beards and they tended to have longer hair in comparison to the bowl cuts many other Amish sects wore.
The women were softer, curvier. No doubt their figures filled out from only working around the house. What if a woman didn’t like to cook and clean? Could she choose a different profession?
Unlikely.
How many extraordinary CEOs and doctors and lawyers had the world missed because men assumed their talents stopped at hanging laundry? Centuries of inequality resonated within her. While women were no longer pigeonholed as they once were, there was still a ways to go. But seeing the women here was like getting a glimpse back in time. As peaceful as it seemed, that peace came with a price Annalise would never want to pay.
She could see the appeal, but couldn’t imagine sacrificing her career to raise a family. It bothered her that there had to be a choice at all, one or the other, while men always seemed so capable of both.
Why did it matter? Why was she worrying over things that didn’t affect her? Once she returned home and straightened out the mess Adam made of her life, she’d be back on track. Back to following her plan and living the independent life.
But independence had somehow become synonymous with loneliness in her mind, and she wondered why the thought of returning home and putting everything back to normal didn’t make her happier. Probably because she hadn’t been happy for a long time.
She’d walked well over a mile and decided to stop for a rest under a willow tree. She bunched up her skirt and sat right in the grass.
She’d been a child the last time she sat in the grass like this. It filled her with warm nostalgia and a sort of sadness.
She wondered where Adam was and what he was doing. She wondered if Karen and Kyle were blowing up her phone.
Tension gathered in her shoulders. She’d have a hard time explaining this to people. For a moment—a very brief moment—she imagined what it might be like to stay.
Adam was ... strange. He acted so differently from other men she knew. While his views sometimes bordered on chauvinistic, she didn’t mind his old-fashioned manners. He opened doors, pulled out chairs, and his territorial watchfulness was growing on her now that they established some boundaries and she wasn’t his prisoner.
She replayed their conversations in her mind, questioning what she could trust and what she couldn’t. His appearance screamed healthy. But last night when he told her he was dying...
Her body shivered. That had been too intense. Too ... weird.
“Well, that’s a sight a male could get used to.”
Her heart sprung into her throat as Adam appeared out of nowhere. She pushed her dress down, covering her exposed calves.
He chuckled. It appeared his discussion with his grandfather went well. “Don’t cover up on my account.”
He dropped to the ground, sitting beside her and dragging a finger up her calf. “Barefoot and unsupervised. I think you’re part heathen.”
She caught his hand before it traveled any higher. “Hey.”
“Don’t be shy.”
She stilled. That look... It was as if he could see every inch of her. She shifted. “You’re acting strange.”
“Are you that much of an expert to know when I’m not acting like myself?” He flipped her skirt, exposing her ankles and grass-stained feet.
“Hey.” She tucked her legs under her dress. “What’s gotten into you?”
“I’d rather talk about what I can get into you.” He leaned over her, his hand riding up her thigh to her hip. He crowded her until she fell back onto the grass.
As his lips reached for hers she turned her cheek away. Only then did her nose twitch at the unfamiliar scent of his skin. “You smell different.”
Birds flocked to the sky, forming a cloud of sparrows above the trees in the distance as if startled from a tree. She squinted at the horizon as a figure appeared. A woman.
“Grace?”
“Ignore her.”
“Anna!”
She pushed at Adam, attempting to sit up. “Something’s wrong.”
He caught her chin, turning her face back to his. “I said, ignore her.”
“Anna, get back to the house!”
She looked at Adam. Something wasn’t right.
Grace shouted again, “Anna, run! Now!”
A shiver chased down her spine and Adam breathed out a clipped laugh as a vicious growl ripped through the air. Grace’s frantic screams erupted as something launched at Adam, tackling him to his back and snarling like a beast.
Annalise screamed, her eyes unable to see what had him. She bolted to her feet as some sort of animal flung his body violently, and so fast she could only scream in horror.
“Adam!”
Grace plowed into her, turning her away and forcing her to look in her eyes. “Come with me!”
She tried to pull her head out of her grip, but she wouldn’t allow it. “We have to help him!”
“No, Anna! We have to leave, now!”
Tears welled in her eyes. “He’s being attacked!”
A hiss that could only come from a mountain lion, ripped through the air accompanied by a putrid snap.
She’d been nine when she first visited a hospital. She’d been climbing a tree at the park and lost her footing, falling almost thirteen feet to the ground. Her tibia had snapped in half on impact. And that was the snap.
“Get her out of here!” Adam shouted.
“Oh, my God,” she whimpered, pulling at Grace’s wrists. “Let go of me!”
“I’m sorry.” Her face tightened. “Sleep.”
The world softened and when she opened her eyes she was in Adam’s bed, again, questioning what was real and what was a dream.
“You’re awake.” Grace sat at the foot of the bed, watching her.
“Déjà vu.” She pushed her hand away and scowled. “Where’s Adam?”
“I know you’re confused, but you left me little choice.”
Her eyes narrowed. Not good enough.
“I’m sorry! Adam insisted I get you out of there.”
“He needed our help!” Who knew what sort of primitive first aid they practiced here. “Where is he?”
Grace moved closer and placed a staying hand on her leg. “I promise, it’s not as bad as it seemed. Adam’s fine.”
No one could escape an attack like that unscathed. She saw whatever that was tackle him to the ground and heard it tearing him apart. Her hands shook as she remembered the sounds of bone snapping.
“You’re in shock.”
“I’m not in shock,” she shivered. “I have to see him.” Why wasn’t Grace letting her up?
“Because you’re still weak and I don’t want you to hurt yourself. I know you’re confused by what you saw, but Adam had every right to attack. Touching another male’s mate is against our laws.”
Her fingertips tingled as her vision blurred. She fought off whatever was happening to her. “What are you talking about?” Frustrated that they seemed to be talking about different things, she snapped. “Something attacked Adam!”
Grace drew back. “Oh, no. Anna, that wasn’t—”
A loud crack shook the house.
Grace winced. “He’s here.”
“Wh—”
The bedroom door flew open, Adam’s bulk filling the cavity. His shoulders heaved and his clothes were torn to shreds. “Did he touch you?”
What the hell was going on? “Who?”
Grace stood and held her hands up in a placating pose. “Adam, she thought he was you.”
The muscles of his jaw bunched and flexed. “Leave us.”
“Adam—”
“I said leave us!”
She rushed from the room leaving Anna alone with a man who appeared far from sane. The door closed and he rotated his shoulders, his breathing paced but labored.
“Adam, you’re scaring me.”
“I can smell him on you.” He ripped his tattered shirt off his back, throwing it to the floor and snarled.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she practically cried. “I feel like I saw something totally different from whatever you and Grace saw.”
He twisted to face her, his fists clenched at his sides. An angry scrape ran down the side of his ribcage that needed medical attention.
“You’re bleeding.” Blind stupidity had her rushing to her feet.
“Stop!” Something shifted in his eyes and she froze. Seething rage seeped from his pores.
“I just want to help you,” she whispered.
He tipped his face away from her view. “You’re safer there.”
She frowned. None of this made any sense. “Adam, what was that out there? What attacked you?”
Peeking at her through his fallen, sweat dampened hair, he studied her with piercing eyes. The longer he looked at her, shoulders lifted with visible tension, the more she questioned what she saw.
“Adam, I don’t know what happened, but I’m not the enemy.” She kept her voice level and didn’t break eye contact. “Tell me what happened, Adam. I trust you.”
His fury visibly receded. His eyes cleared and his face lifted.
She nodded at the shift. “Let’s talk about it.”
“I don’t want to talk.”
She swallowed. “Will you sit with me?” Maybe if he calmed down she could get it out of him. “We should put something on that gash.”
He glanced at his arms where more cuts marked his skin. Looking back at her, he frowned. “Were you hurt?”
He was bleeding and probably in need of stitches, yet he worried about her wellbeing? “I’m fine. Grace... Your sister got me out of there.” How had that happened?
He let out a jagged breath. “She should have been watching over you. I should have stayed with you.”
“Adam, I’m fine.” She shrugged. “Come sit down.” He watched her like a distrusting animal follows a predator. “Please.”
He staggered to the bed, collapsing at her side and pulling her into his arms with surprising aggression. Her hand fluttered to his back.
“Hey,” she whispered, and his face burrowed into her shoulder, his lips pressing to her throat as he drew in a long, shuttering breath. “It’s over.”
“I’m sorry,” he rasped.
She pulled back, forcing him to look into her eyes, startled to find his shimmering with unshed tears. “Adam, talk to me. What’s over? I don’t understand what happened.”
He glanced away. “No more talking, Annalise. I’m tired from so much talking.” His stare found hers. “I’m tired of waiting.”