“Bautere said there was something off about this place, but…I don’t know.” I took a few steps closer, thinking that a cup of tea in the back room might’ve been more worthwhile than this trip.
Hawk didn’t lose an inch of intensity. “Don’t judge anything by appearances. The most lethal witch I’ve ever met had a bun and wore an apron. She baked me cookies right before she tried to kill me.”
Glad he was impressed by this lump of snow. “Were they good?”
“Best I’ve ever tasted.”
His wannabe girlfriend would lose her mind if she knew someone had outdone her in the sweets department.
“Don’t let Gillian hear that.” I let out a half laugh, realizing belatedly that it sounded more like a cackle. Did that sound bitter? What was wrong with me? I didn’t care what happened with him and Gillian. There was a job to do, a hill to find. How Gillian felt about someone else’s cookies was the least of the problems facing all of us.
After this new perusal, it might not qualify as a mound. I took a few more steps toward the clump of snow.
“This place seems pretty normal. This doesn’t seem to be the place.” I pulled my collar up as the wind kicked up.
Hawk kept walking around intently, like a dog on a scent. He didn’t appear to be ready to leave anytime soon.
Out of sheer boredom, I made my way closer. A weird feeling made my insides tingle. I took another step. The feeling grew. I took another few steps, single-mindedly heading in the direction of the feeling. It was unlike anything I’d felt. Maybe it was because I was closer than last time, but I felt like I was a magnet being pulled toward something much larger than myself.
The closer I got, the more I felt I couldn’t retreat, until I was nearly glued to one spot on the ground.
“Hawk?”
“Yeah?” He was kneeling, laying a hand on the ground.
“I need…” I crashed to the ground, hitting my knees and then my palms.
“Tippi?” He headed toward me. “What is it?”
“There’s something here. I feel…strange. I don’t know if I can move.”
I didn’t have to say another word before he tossed me over his shoulder and took off. He didn’t stop until we were a good hundred feet from the mound.
He dropped me to the ground, kneeling beside me. “Are you okay?” He moved my scarf away and laid his fingers on the side of my neck. He ripped my glove off next, feeling my wrist.
“I’m fine. It was just unsettling.” I stared back at the hill, and I’d give it enough respect to call it at least that now.
“What happened?” he asked, sitting back on his haunches, watching me as if I were going to tumble over.
“I don’t know. I felt a pulsing of sorts and couldn’t seem to move. I’ve never felt anything like it before.”
“How do you feel now?” He put his hand my neck again, as if he wasn’t convinced things were okay. “Your magic feels strong.”
“Fine.” I couldn’t stop looking at that spot. What was there? The only thing I was sure of was that this was the hill.
“I’m going back over there. Stay here.” He stood, watching me.
I nodded. There would be no fight on this one.
He walked back to the spot, and I looked around for a big stick. What if it was like being electrocuted and he got stuck? I’d need something to push him off.
There was a nice five-foot-long stick not far away. I hurried and got it, then returned fast. I watched, waiting to see what would happen.
He kept walking back and forth over the area I’d gotten stuck in. He did it another ten times before he canvassed the rest of the mound. By the time he was done, I was huddled in a squat with my branch beside me.
“Are you planning on hitting me with that?” Hawk asked as he walked back over.
“For your information, I was going to use it to save you.” I threw it to the side, since the hill hadn’t wanted any part of him.
“Whatever is there, I can’t feel it.” He sighed as if frustrated he couldn’t get a read on it.
He looked back at the spot and back to me. Another thing piling up, not making sense, like so much else. It seemed that the more information we got, the less we knew.
“Either way, we need to get going. There’s a storm coming.”
I held up my bare hand. “It feels calmer than ever.” The air felt colder, but the constant wind had gone away for maybe the first time since I’d been in Xest.
“That’s how you know a storm is coming. The calmer the wind, the worse it’ll be.” He looked in the direction we’d come, his eyes narrowing. “This isn’t good.”
I turned around. “Where’d the door go?”
Bautere walked across the snow until he was standing beside us. “Heard you were in these parts.”
“You told Tippi that there was something wrong with this place. I wanted to check it out, and then our door disappeared.” Hawk waved to the place it had been.
“Magic has been acting weird in this area for a while now.” Bautere raised his head in the air, his nostrils flaring. “You’re not going to be able to get back, not with the storm brewing. You’ll have to stay the night with me.”
Before we answered, he turned and began walking back in the direction he’d come from. With no options, Hawk and I followed. It was better than getting stuck in a blizzard. Xest’s weather wasn’t kind on a good day. There was no way we’d make it back on a bad one.
There was a fire, but it barely warmed the area. I bunched the furs around me again, trying to trap every smidge of body heat. It was a losing battle that I’d been fighting for a good hour.
I had my back to Hawk, who was on the next pile over. He wrapped an arm around my waist and dragged me up against him.
My instinct to push away lasted a half of a second, maybe even less, because that was how long it took to feel how warm he was. My thoughts soon shifted to how I could maneuver myself closer, without literally draping myself on top of him. I settled for mounding up the furs around me and him, barricading his heat in.
“Just so you know, this doesn’t mean we’re on good terms,” I said. “I’m only sleeping next to you because it’s cold and it’s a necessity. Same reason I’m talking to you. Only as needed.”
“Noted,” he said, his eyes remaining closed.
I maneuvered slightly so that my head was in the crook of his arm. If I was going to sleep next to him out of necessity, it made sense to get as comfortable as possible. He was like being pressed up against a wood stove that was continuously pumping a slow heat.
“How is it that you’re warm when I’m freezing?” I put my hand on his side because there was no other place for it, and if there was a sudden attack, warm fingers functioned better. Again, it was all about survival.
“I’m a shifter,” he said, as if that in itself explained it all.
“And?”
“I have two different cells trying to occupy the same space at all times, almost warring with each other for dominance. That generates more heat.”
“Oh.”
He hummed, not sounding interested at all. I closed my eyes, trying to let sleep come the way he seemed to have managed. Finally warm, the sound of the storm blowing outside, I was snuggled up to a man I hated most days.