“It’s kind of romantic. You. Me. Cloudy night. No one around but maybe the deer and the dead.”
“You trying to get me to kiss you again?”
“I don’t think I have to try too hard. You’re under my spell, remember?”
“How could I forget? I’m supposed to fall madly in love with you.”
“Don’t be scared. I won’t break your heart completely in two, but I may leave a few cracks when this is over.”
“Who said this was ending?”
I shrug. “I figure when we find Mariah, you’ll go back to your outlaw life. Whatever that entails, and I’ll go back to doing witchy stuff.”
“Bianca, if you fuck half as good as you kiss, you’ll be seeing a lot more of me.”
My insides warm. Any other man talked to me like he does I’d tell him to kick rocks, but with Sandman it works in his favor. He makes being an alpha asshole hella sexy.
I take another sip of water before twisting the cap back on and shoving it in the side pocket of my backpack.
He gives me a quick peck on the lips. “Yeah, we’ll be testing the theory later.”
“C’mon. Not much further.” I tug his hand.
Sandman lights our way with one of the small flashlights I brought. It doesn’t provide much light, but we have to be careful not to draw attention. The security guard who used to work here was a dick, but I get it. He was doing his job and we didn’t make it easy for him.
“Place is creepy as fuck.”
“You’re not scared, are you?” I tease him, but in reality, there is a foreboding eeriness in the air. The spirits are restless and part of me regrets bringing him here. A heaviness settles in my gut the closer we come to the hanging tree. A sensation that says we shouldn’t be here. Like when you’re watching a scary movie and you know the character shouldn’t run up the stairs or enter the basement. You scream at them knowing that something terrible will unfold or befall them. Yet here I am ignoring the warning bells sounding in my head, spreading a thin quilt over the grass.
A chilliness hangs in the air around us like it’s somehow colder here under the tree. “Do you know the stories that surround this tree?” I question as I arrange my candles. Lighting them with matches one by one.
The yellow glow surrounds us, the flames flickering between us as he sits opposite me.
“Can’t say that I do.”
“Legend has it that this tree was used to hang people in the olden days. The founding days of Charleston. Some nights people claim you can hear them being strangled by the ropes. Hear them clawing at their nooses, struggling to breathe. Others say you can hear their screams. Their intention is to haunt and torture the founders of our great city who are buried here in Old Circle. Gram says that the matriarch of our family, my ancestor, was hung here. Accused of witchcraft. For being the devil incarnate. When I come here, I can feel her energy. I can draw on her powers.”
I take out my cards as Sandman stares at me.
A twig snaps in the distance and he zips his leather jacket. “Did you hear something?”
“Relax. It’s probably the deer or old Mary looking for her next victim.” I smirk.
“Ha. Ha. You think you’re real cute, don’t you? Trying to freak me out with that shit about the tree and your family history. I’m onto you, witch.”
I shrug and shuffle my cards. I close my eyes and clear my mind of everything but one question. “Where are you, Mariah?” The cards begin to slip between my fingers. “Fear. Confusion. The Fool reversed. She’s made a terrible mistake. Trusted the wrong person. She feels powerless. Like there is no turning back from her poor choices.” I flip over another card. “The Knight of Needles reversed. She’s worried about things left undone or unsaid. She had a fight with her mother maybe.” My temples throb and something tells me to stop. Maybe intuition or one of my guides, but something or someone doesn’t want us here.
The sensation like we’re being watched moves through me.
“Hey, what are you doing?” A light flashes our way. “You aren’t supposed to be here.”
“Shit.” I scoop up my cards and blow out the candles as Sandman jumps up and reaches for my hand. We take off running. Leaves and twigs snapping and crunching as we dart toward the trees for cover. The last thing I want is to explain to cops what we’re doing here.