once. Well, temporarily. Got decked so hard in the side of my head during a fight, blood vessels in my eyes popped. Doc said I had to keep my eyes covered for two days. I ain’t scared of the dark or anything, but that was a thousand tiny cuts at a man’s sanity.”
“How long did you last?”
Monroe snorted. “The whole fight, of course. That idiot was out cold after the second punch I laid on him.”
“I meant how long did you last with your eyes covered.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but I held my hand out to stop him. “Wait, wait,” I said. “Let me guess. A day.”
A rakish grin spread across his face. It was disarming. The bottom hem of his shirt shifted when he placed a hand over his heart and said, “My, Levi. You do think a lot of me, don’t you?”
“Less, huh?”
“Hell yeah. Lasted about six hours before I tore the wrapping off. Went into work that day, barely able to see a foot in front of me. Eyes so bloodshot, I probably looked like I was the walking dead. Gave one of the other mechanics at the shop a heart attack.” He grunted. “I’d never be able to replicate the sound he made. I think it was in an octave only dogs can hear. Well, dogs and me, apparently.”
“I bet it was a scary sight.”
“I don’t know too many people who wouldn’t be scared of a grown man walking around with bloodred eyes. Hell, I scared myself just looking in the mirror the next day.”
I tucked my knees up to my chest, resting my chin on my knees. “Silvi wouldn’t be afraid. Never in my life have I seen that kid afraid of anything. She’s the bravest person I’ve ever met.”
“And Silvi is your little sister? The pretty little thing I saw in the sunflower field?”
“That’s Silvi.”
After a moment he said, “You two look alike.”
A small smile tugged at my lips. “Is it the blond hair that gives us away, or the dark eyes?”
Monroe’s gaze trailed down from my eyes, to my throat, and then lower to linger for a moment on my exposed collarbone. “Are you feeling warmer?” he asked.
“Yes.” And I was.
“You should go.”
As though all the light had been covered in a blanket of darkness, the ease in the room seemed to leave. Monroe’s smile turned to a hard line. His relaxed shoulders had gone rigid. His Adam’s apple bobbed when he looked at me.
And then, out of the shadows behind him, something dark slithered out. It slid up his side, beneath his shirt, its tail hooking upward, exposing his taut stomach.
A black snake.
It coiled around his stomach, moved up his shoulder, wrapped around his neck. Scales shimmered and glistened in the fire’s light. When its tail flicked up and touched the edge of his lower lip, I jumped. “You’re right. I have to go.”
Monroe said nothing. He stood and then followed me to the front door. I touched the door handle, and it felt like it was made of barbed wire. The corners of the small hallway dimmed, the walls seemed to morph in on themselves. To my eyes they vibrated and shook, but when I pressed my palm against a wooden panel, it was still.
“Let me walk you home,” he said.
“No,” I gasped. It sounded like a cry for help. Maybe it was. I had to get out of that house. I had to get away from him.
I pulled the blanket off my shoulders and shoved it at him. He said nothing—did nothing—as I unlocked the door and ran outside into the darkness.
“THE SWAMPS,” I said. “Behind the Poirier house.”
Two blank faces stared at me.
The moment I walked downstairs that morning, both my mama and Ward knew that I’d been sleepwalking.
“The swamps?” my mama asked, a hitch in her voice.
“Their call is louder than ever. I hear them screaming to me when I sleep. I feel their murky waters through my fingers, even when awake. It’s intense and incessant. Each day that passes, their call to me is louder.”
My mama stood at the kitchen sink, Ward in the doorway, and I sat at the kitchen table. Even though I knew my
“How long did you last?”
Monroe snorted. “The whole fight, of course. That idiot was out cold after the second punch I laid on him.”
“I meant how long did you last with your eyes covered.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but I held my hand out to stop him. “Wait, wait,” I said. “Let me guess. A day.”
A rakish grin spread across his face. It was disarming. The bottom hem of his shirt shifted when he placed a hand over his heart and said, “My, Levi. You do think a lot of me, don’t you?”
“Less, huh?”
“Hell yeah. Lasted about six hours before I tore the wrapping off. Went into work that day, barely able to see a foot in front of me. Eyes so bloodshot, I probably looked like I was the walking dead. Gave one of the other mechanics at the shop a heart attack.” He grunted. “I’d never be able to replicate the sound he made. I think it was in an octave only dogs can hear. Well, dogs and me, apparently.”
“I bet it was a scary sight.”
“I don’t know too many people who wouldn’t be scared of a grown man walking around with bloodred eyes. Hell, I scared myself just looking in the mirror the next day.”
I tucked my knees up to my chest, resting my chin on my knees. “Silvi wouldn’t be afraid. Never in my life have I seen that kid afraid of anything. She’s the bravest person I’ve ever met.”
“And Silvi is your little sister? The pretty little thing I saw in the sunflower field?”
“That’s Silvi.”
After a moment he said, “You two look alike.”
A small smile tugged at my lips. “Is it the blond hair that gives us away, or the dark eyes?”
Monroe’s gaze trailed down from my eyes, to my throat, and then lower to linger for a moment on my exposed collarbone. “Are you feeling warmer?” he asked.
“Yes.” And I was.
“You should go.”
As though all the light had been covered in a blanket of darkness, the ease in the room seemed to leave. Monroe’s smile turned to a hard line. His relaxed shoulders had gone rigid. His Adam’s apple bobbed when he looked at me.
And then, out of the shadows behind him, something dark slithered out. It slid up his side, beneath his shirt, its tail hooking upward, exposing his taut stomach.
A black snake.
It coiled around his stomach, moved up his shoulder, wrapped around his neck. Scales shimmered and glistened in the fire’s light. When its tail flicked up and touched the edge of his lower lip, I jumped. “You’re right. I have to go.”
Monroe said nothing. He stood and then followed me to the front door. I touched the door handle, and it felt like it was made of barbed wire. The corners of the small hallway dimmed, the walls seemed to morph in on themselves. To my eyes they vibrated and shook, but when I pressed my palm against a wooden panel, it was still.
“Let me walk you home,” he said.
“No,” I gasped. It sounded like a cry for help. Maybe it was. I had to get out of that house. I had to get away from him.
I pulled the blanket off my shoulders and shoved it at him. He said nothing—did nothing—as I unlocked the door and ran outside into the darkness.
“THE SWAMPS,” I said. “Behind the Poirier house.”
Two blank faces stared at me.
The moment I walked downstairs that morning, both my mama and Ward knew that I’d been sleepwalking.
“The swamps?” my mama asked, a hitch in her voice.
“Their call is louder than ever. I hear them screaming to me when I sleep. I feel their murky waters through my fingers, even when awake. It’s intense and incessant. Each day that passes, their call to me is louder.”
My mama stood at the kitchen sink, Ward in the doorway, and I sat at the kitchen table. Even though I knew my
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