Tangled

22 Ava: Paranoia and Secrets (III)

22 Ava: Paranoia and Secrets (III)

I try to slip the crystal back into the drawer of my nightstand, but Selene darts forward, her body wriggling between me and the furniture like a furry battering ram. With a huff of frustration, I pull my hand back, the crystal still clutched in my fist.”

“Selene, down,” I scold, but she remains resolutely in my path, those pale blue eyes fixed on the object in my grasp.

Realizing this is a battle I won’t win, I shove the crystal into the pocket of my jeans, ignoring the uneasy weight that seems to settle in my gut at its presence. Selene’s tail wags, and she trots back toward the kitchen, pausing every few steps to glance over her shoulder, as if ensuring I follow.

The aroma of the sautéed vegetables greets me as I re–enter the kitchen, and my stomach rumbles in

anticipation. But as I move to finish plating the meal, Selene darts underfoot, nearly sending me sprawling. I sidestep her clumsily, shooting her a glare.

“What has gotten into you?” I mutter, stirring the

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22 Ava: Paranoia and Secrets (1)

contents of the pan with perhaps more force than

necessary.

Selene whines, her nose pointed toward the front. door, and understanding dawns.

“All right, all right.” I rush over to open the front door.

But Selene remains rooted to the spot, her gaze flickering between me and the door, an insistent whine escaping her. I frown as realization sets in–she wants

to come

her resolute stare tells me she’s dead serious. “Fine, but just a quick walk. I’m

food onto a plate and shove it into the

favor of appeasing

she darts out the door the second it’s open wide enough, nearly yanking me off my feet. I stumble after her,

air is a welcome

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Paranoia and

earlier unease fading into the background. Selene trots ahead,

should insist we turn back before we venture too far from home, but some inexplicable force holds my tongue. Instead, I let Selene lead, trusting in the bond we’ve forged over

months.

park, which is essentially a trail going through a small bit of city forest. My food is cold at home, and we have at least a half hour of walking to

I’m starving.” I tug at her leash, but she ignores it. “Selene. Come on. Now!” I tug harder and try to

direction.

I stumble, barely

14:45.

38

and Secrets

I sigh. Selene’s not usually one for these kinds of shenanigans. “Okay. Okay! I get

Maybe she needs to

crunch of fallen leaves and twigs beneath my boots echoing in the stillness. A shiver skitters

Selene forges ahead, her movements purposeful, almost urgent. I tighten my grip on the leash, my heart. thrumming a staccato rhythm

to the occasional bout of mischief around the apartment. But this? This single–minded determination to lead me deeper into

the nape of my neck as the air seems to thicken around us, the scent of

14:45 –

Paranola and Secrets

foliage taking on an almost cloying

unfamiliar heat blossoms deep

abdomen.

happening

scents the air, and I take the opportunity to glance around, trying to get my bearings. But the trees seem to blur together, an endless maze of bark and

clenching spasmodically around the leash as a wave of dizziness washes over me. The world tilts precariously, the shadows lengthening and distorting until they seem to