Read Online Hemlock Veils by Jennie Davenport - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jennie Davenport
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of her. Vivid green and earthy brown were the only hues in this other world, from thickening foliage and clinging moss, to naked branches and the slender trail that led her.
A large fallen trunk blocked the trail, as she’d expected: the same that had taken her to the ground and whose blanket of moss looked more like green shag carpet. As she approached, a small splash of red stood out, a color that didn’t belong. Sheltered by the ferns, it decorated the cedar that stood tall behind the fallen trunk. She’d leaned against this tree last night, when the beast breathed her in. A meager stab of guilt penetrated her heart, simply for being the cause of this blood. According to the old man, he’d never been lucky enough to hit his target, but thanks to her distraction, he’d been successful for the first time in almost fifty years.
She chided herself for again feeling compassion toward the monster everyone swore would rip her to shreds if it had the chance. Whose side was she on?
She gravitated to the trunk, examining the blood when the forest floor glimmered. Silver, slithering strands. Her locket’s chain emerged from mud and leaves as though grown here, and when she picked it up, it hung open. The tiny pictures were slightly water damaged and the clear cover misted from the inside, but all in all it appeared perfectly intact. She exhaled a sigh of relief and smiled as she ran her thumb over the picture of an innocent Willem, wiping away some moisture in the process.
“Beth?”
Startled, she turned to Sheriff Taggart and Eustace. Eustace still wore waders, but was free of the yellow slicker and hat. With folded arms, he lifted one of his dark gray eyebrows. His beard appeared whiter in the sunlight, especially in contrast to his brows. The bandage on his hand needed to be replaced, since red saturated the center. “After all that last night, you still have the stones to come out here alone?”
“My locket,” she said, holding it up. “It fell from my bag last night when—” She cut herself off. “Anyway, I had to find it.” She folded her arms, matching the old man. “And I thought it was only dangerous after dark?”
“It is,” Taggart said, “but most are too afraid to set foot out here no matter how bright the sun is shining.” They watched her, expectantly.
“I couldn’t stay away. Really, I don’t know how anyone can. I’ve never been anywhere so beautiful.”
Taggart’s dark brown mustache twitched and he gave his head a slight shake. “That beauty can be deceiving, Ms. Ashton. Just be careful.”
“She’s a brave one, she is,” Eustace said, finally unfolding his arms. Even through his beard, there was no mistaking the lifted corner of his mouth.
“Either brave or stupid. No offense.”
“I’m neither,” she said too defensively. “Just…lost something special to me.”
Taggart’s eyes found the tree beside her and he took an anxious step toward it, studying the splatter of blood. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said, almost to himself.
“You still think it’s a mistake for me to come out here, Sheriff?” Eustace said. He lifted his chin when Taggart met his eyes.
“You think it survived?”
“Wish I could say, but the thing is massive. Definitely wounded it though.”
Taggart’s eyes found the blood again. “I’ll be,” he repeated under his breath.
Elizabeth started past them, the way they’d come. She didn’t know why, but the whole thing didn’t sit right. They caught up to her and their steps grew leisurely and slow.
“We’ll get some food and coffee in you,” Taggart said from behind, “then Brian and I will accompany you to your vehicle. He’s got a tow truck that’ll fit the three of us just fine.”
She nodded, and after a minute said, “Tell me, Sheriff, if everyone is so afraid out here and this beauty is so deceiving, why stay? In Hemlock, I mean.”
With a hand casually on his belt, he shrugged. “Guess folks like to stay where
A large fallen trunk blocked the trail, as she’d expected: the same that had taken her to the ground and whose blanket of moss looked more like green shag carpet. As she approached, a small splash of red stood out, a color that didn’t belong. Sheltered by the ferns, it decorated the cedar that stood tall behind the fallen trunk. She’d leaned against this tree last night, when the beast breathed her in. A meager stab of guilt penetrated her heart, simply for being the cause of this blood. According to the old man, he’d never been lucky enough to hit his target, but thanks to her distraction, he’d been successful for the first time in almost fifty years.
She chided herself for again feeling compassion toward the monster everyone swore would rip her to shreds if it had the chance. Whose side was she on?
She gravitated to the trunk, examining the blood when the forest floor glimmered. Silver, slithering strands. Her locket’s chain emerged from mud and leaves as though grown here, and when she picked it up, it hung open. The tiny pictures were slightly water damaged and the clear cover misted from the inside, but all in all it appeared perfectly intact. She exhaled a sigh of relief and smiled as she ran her thumb over the picture of an innocent Willem, wiping away some moisture in the process.
“Beth?”
Startled, she turned to Sheriff Taggart and Eustace. Eustace still wore waders, but was free of the yellow slicker and hat. With folded arms, he lifted one of his dark gray eyebrows. His beard appeared whiter in the sunlight, especially in contrast to his brows. The bandage on his hand needed to be replaced, since red saturated the center. “After all that last night, you still have the stones to come out here alone?”
“My locket,” she said, holding it up. “It fell from my bag last night when—” She cut herself off. “Anyway, I had to find it.” She folded her arms, matching the old man. “And I thought it was only dangerous after dark?”
“It is,” Taggart said, “but most are too afraid to set foot out here no matter how bright the sun is shining.” They watched her, expectantly.
“I couldn’t stay away. Really, I don’t know how anyone can. I’ve never been anywhere so beautiful.”
Taggart’s dark brown mustache twitched and he gave his head a slight shake. “That beauty can be deceiving, Ms. Ashton. Just be careful.”
“She’s a brave one, she is,” Eustace said, finally unfolding his arms. Even through his beard, there was no mistaking the lifted corner of his mouth.
“Either brave or stupid. No offense.”
“I’m neither,” she said too defensively. “Just…lost something special to me.”
Taggart’s eyes found the tree beside her and he took an anxious step toward it, studying the splatter of blood. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said, almost to himself.
“You still think it’s a mistake for me to come out here, Sheriff?” Eustace said. He lifted his chin when Taggart met his eyes.
“You think it survived?”
“Wish I could say, but the thing is massive. Definitely wounded it though.”
Taggart’s eyes found the blood again. “I’ll be,” he repeated under his breath.
Elizabeth started past them, the way they’d come. She didn’t know why, but the whole thing didn’t sit right. They caught up to her and their steps grew leisurely and slow.
“We’ll get some food and coffee in you,” Taggart said from behind, “then Brian and I will accompany you to your vehicle. He’s got a tow truck that’ll fit the three of us just fine.”
She nodded, and after a minute said, “Tell me, Sheriff, if everyone is so afraid out here and this beauty is so deceiving, why stay? In Hemlock, I mean.”
With a hand casually on his belt, he shrugged. “Guess folks like to stay where
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