Chapter 6

After what felt like an eternity but was probably only fifteen minutes, the forest began to thin and I knew we were approaching the castle grounds. Jinx picked up her pace, no longer pausing to let the man catch up, and I heard his footsteps quicken as he tried to keep her in sight. The trees fell away and suddenly we were in the clearing, the castle rising before us like something out of a Gothic nightmare, all dark stone and pointed towers silhouetted against the night sky.

I heard his sharp intake of breath as he caught sight of it, heard his footsteps slow and then stop entirely as he stood at the edge of the clearing, staring up at the impossible structure before him. Jinx had already disappeared into the forest on the other side of the clearing, no doubt heading off to find another target for her interrupted hunt.

For a long moment, he just stood there, and I could practically see the thoughts racing through his mind. This was his chance to turn back, to write off the entire encounter as a strange dream and find his way back to the party. He should leave. Any sensible person would leave.

But he didn't. Instead, he took a tentative step forward, then another, drawn by the same curiosity that had made him follow Jinx in the first place. He climbed the stone steps slowly, and I watched as he reached out to touch the heavy wooden door, his fingers tracing the carved patterns in the ancient wood.

Then he stopped. His hand fell to his side and he took a step back, and I saw the moment his survival instincts finally kicked in. He turned away from the door, looking out over the clearing as if trying to orient himself, and I realized with a jolt of panic that he was going to leave.

I couldn't let him leave.

I moved without thinking, my body carrying me across the clearing and up the steps in a blur of motion that would have been invisible to human eyes. I forced myself to slow as I approached, to make my footsteps audible on the stone so I wouldn't startle him too badly, but even so, when I appeared at his side he jumped and spun to face me.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly, holding up my hands in what I hoped was a non-threatening gesture. "I didn't mean to scare you. I saw you following my cat and I thought I should make sure you were alright."

He stared at me with wide eyes, his chest rising and falling rapidly with his quickened breathing, and I could see him trying to process my sudden appearance. How long had I been there? Where had I come from? The questions were written clearly on his face, but he was too polite or too frightened to ask them.

"Your cat led me here," he said finally, his voice slightly breathless. "I got turned around in the forest and she seemed to know where she was going, so I followed her. I didn't mean to trespass on your property."

"You're not trespassing," I assured him, taking a careful step closer and watching his reaction. He didn't back away, which I took as a good sign. "Jinx has a habit of collecting strays. I'm glad she led you somewhere safe instead of leaving you lost in the woods."

He glanced past me at the castle, and I saw uncertainty flicker across his face. "This is your house?"

"Yes," I said simply, not bothering to explain how or why I came to own a Gothic castle in the middle of a Louisiana swamp. "Would you like to come inside? You look exhausted, and I'd feel terrible sending you back into the forest without at least offering you some water and a chance to rest."

I watched the internal debate play out across his expressive features. He was tired, that much was obvious, and probably more than a little lost. But he was also wary, and rightfully so. A strange woman appearing out of nowhere and inviting him into her isolated castle in the middle of the night—it sounded like the setup to a horror story.

"I should get back to the party," he said, but there was no conviction in his voice. "My friend will be worried."

"Do you know which way to go?" I asked gently, and saw the answer in the way his gaze darted around the clearing, finding nothing familiar. "The forest is easy to get lost in, especially at night. There are rumors about people who've disappeared out here, you know. Vanished without a trace."

It was a low tactic, using his fear against him, but I was getting desperate. The longer we stood here talking, the harder it was to maintain my control, to keep my hands at my sides instead of reaching for him. I needed to get him inside, needed the familiar security of my own space to help me think clearly.

"Just for a few minutes," I pressed. "You can catch your breath, have some water, and I'll give you directions back to the campground. Or better yet, I can walk you back myself once you've rested. It's the least I can do after Jinx dragged you all the way out here."

He looked at me for a long moment, and I held my breath, waiting for his decision. This close, I could see the unusual color of his eyes in the moonlight, could count the individual strands of white hair that had escaped from behind his ear, could hear every beat of his heart as it gradually slowed from its frightened racing.

"Okay," he said finally, so quietly I almost didn't hear it. "Just for a little while."

Relief flooded through me, so intense it was almost painful, and I had to resist the urge to smile too widely and reveal my fangs. "Thank you," I said, and meant it more than he could possibly know. "The door's just here."

I reached for the handle, already turning it, when I felt the resistance of the lock and remembered with a sinking feeling that I'd secured it before going into the forest. I never used the door—I'd been jumping in and out of windows and climbing walls for so long that I'd completely forgotten about mundane things like keys and locks.

The key was somewhere inside, probably in a drawer I hadn't opened in decades, and there was no way to retrieve it without revealing just how inhuman I really was. I stood there for a moment, my hand on the locked door, trying to figure out a solution that wouldn't send him running.

"I forgot my key," I said finally, turning to face him with what I hoped was an apologetic expression. "Can you climb?"