Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
I never watched the dryads render flesh to the earth; I didn’t want that in my head. Teague never tried to get a glimpse either. When you were all primordial beings, everyone had their lane, and no one crossed over or judged. What was the point? We existed together, alongside one another, and I appreciated them and how everything that died, every plant, every animal, was returned to the land, and in turn, the land was renewed for the next generation. They helped the land thrive, and they’d told me that they appreciated me bringing them together. Many of the dryads had traveled as seeds and acorns that I’d carried myself, picking up each and asking if they wanted to remain where they were or inhabit my grove. Everything spoke if one listened, and each one had desired to go. Now, instead of being alone, they were part of a community, living together in harmony. To be allowed a place to simply be, for all the many fae in my woods, I knew, was deeply appreciated.
“Come,” they called, and Teague and I stood up, not ever moving until they called us, and together we walked to where all the men had been. There was not a trace of most of them left. No blood, no bone, absolutely nothing.
There were only two dryads now, all the others having disappeared back into the forest.
“These two may go on their way.” The men lying there were passed out, but otherwise unharmed. “They will not return here, and meant the young ones no harm.”
That was good enough for me. “Thank you.”
“Visit the glen in the summer and dance with us.”
“Always,” I promised, because both Teague and I did every year. Seeing them change in that liminal time between the spring equinox and the summer solstice was always incredible. They were a vision of beauty and freedom, dancing around enormous bonfires, celebrating life and fertility and the promise of renewal. “Thank you for your judgment.”
“Thank you for your covenant,” the two responded, then drifted toward the woods to return to the others.
Once it was just me and Teague, I thanked him again for helping me. I got the same hand brush through my hair as the dryads had done, and then he turned and was gone, disappearing so much faster than I’d ever been able to. But he wasn’t supposed to be seen, and I was. Just one of the many differences between a creature of the woods and one such as myself, made to judge and end life.
When I moved both men off my land, it was no surprise at all that one guy woke up screaming and the other crying five minutes later. That happened quite a bit. I told them both to return to the house where they’d started, to go to Abel Swann. Once I promised they wouldn’t be killed, they bolted down the hill to get away from me. I couldn’t blame them. I stood and watched—I could easily see that far, even in the dark—as Cole put them both on their knees next to Tuss, and he talked to them all before he allowed them to get up and run for the SUVs they’d come in. Tuss would certainly be back, with reinforcements, but that was a worry for another day. I was ready for bed.
FOUR
Saturday morning, there was knocking on my front door. I answered in pajama bottoms and a T-shirt with one eye open, not sure what was happening, and there was Cole, grinning crazily at me and carrying a bag that smelled amazing.
“No,” I said.
He chuckled. “Yes. I want to eat with you and talk to you and—”
“No,” I repeated.
“Wait, c’mon, just listen.”
I scowled at him.
“I went to your restaurant.”
“I already know that from the bag I can see in your hand.”
“Stop being an ass.” He grinned wider. “And start being the sweet man I met last night.”
I grunted to stop myself from smiling. He thought I was sweet? No one ever thought I was sweet.
“Your place is gorgeous, by the way. It feels like a sanctuary from the outside world in there. I was a bit overwhelmed once I was inside.”
There was no containing the smile this time.
“Dakota—is that right?”
I nodded.
“Dakota told me what to order, and I’m assured that what I have here is your favorite veggie omelet, and I got it just like she suggested, with lots of extra mushrooms.”
“I––”
“And she had me order the Denver omelet with fake ham for myself,” he said with a shudder, “which sounds vile, but I’m keeping an open mind.”
“Yeah, I can tell from the look of revulsion on your face.”
“Anyway, Lupe said you like the coffee I have in the car for you, which, I have to admit, smells amazing and is in a weird mug.”
“It’s not weird, it’s made out of red clay with mica in it.”