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“Better get some sleep!” Freya said in an uncharacteristically high pitch and hurried to her feet. “I’ll go grab some blankets.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Freya
Without looking back, I hurried to the cabinet full of blankets down the hall.
Goddess save me.
I stood in front of the cabinet and tried to douse the heat of my skin. I’d sat next to Walker with all good intentions, but those had quickly fled to the wayside. It had just been so nice to talk to someone and to lean on him. I’d never had many friends and certainly not many male ones. I’d never gotten so close to someone toned from days of honest, hard work or whose smiles made me want to smile.
More than anything, Walker made me feel safe.
I’d only wanted to crawl into that feeling.
You can’t, I reminded myself. You’re not safe, and you won’t be until the witch killer is gone.
Neither long talks nor long make-outs with Walker would solve that problem. I had to stay focused. That started with grabbing the cowboy some blankets, so we could all get some much-needed rest. I grabbed what I needed and faced Walker.
“You’re welcome to use my bed,” I offered then cringed. “I mean, you can sleep in there and I’ll sleep on the floor.”
I couldn’t bring myself to suggest sleeping in Mom’s room.
Walker insisted on sleeping in the living room with Cadence, despite my assurances that the cottage was so warded, the High Witch herself couldn’t get in. Refusing to be awkward, I helped him set up a pallet of blankets in front of the fireplace, then headed to my own bedroom. It was a short trek down the dimly lit hall.
I turned the brass handle of my bedroom but couldn’t bring myself to open the door. I would see the multi-colored quilt Mom and I had made together. I’d remember all the long chats we’d had on my brass-framed bed. I might be tempted to listen to the jazz records she bought me years ago.
I didn’t want to be alone in a graveyard of our memories. Not when my nerves were still so frayed from my conversation with Walker.
I couldn’t open the door.
I muttered some curses and walked to the end of the hall, where the cupboard of extra blankets was. After grabbing what I needed, I walked back into the living room.
Maybe he’s already asleep.
The boy was seemingly able to sleep on command. He’d slept like a baby on the hard cave floor.
It’s a cowboy thing, he’d told me.
I quietly laid out my blankets, then crawled under a couple of them. Arion came in through the cat door I’d installed a year ago and curled up at my side.
Hopefully, I would wake before Walker, and he would never know I slept out here after I ridiculed him for doing the same. With a smile, I closed my eyes and focused on the crackling of the fire.
“Night, Freya,” Walker said. He didn’t try to mask the smugness in his voice, but he didn’t turn to gloat either.
I smirked. “Good night, Walker.”
*
“Walker?” a young voice said. “Walker! Where are you?”
I rolled over, away from the sound, but sunshine streamed in through the window. With a groan, I sat up and rubbed my eyes.
“Freya?” a girl asked.
I opened my eyes and blinked away the dark spots that danced in my vision. Cadence stared at me from her seat on the sofa. Her skin was paler than usual, and her eyes were wide with fear. Ash and blood still stained her clothes and clotted in her hair.
“What happened to me?” she whispered.
