Woodland Creatures

Halloween, Samhain, All Hallow's eve. Here's my paranormal romance for the season. HUGE thanks to E for being my sounding board, even through my annoying plot issues. Comments/votes/feedback are all super appreciated. Thanks for reading!!

Early October

It started with a card game. Okay, not

any

card game. My best friend's sister had recently opened a mind, body and spirit shop, or an occult shop, downtown Los Angeles just in time for the influx of hipster Halloween fanatics. Don't get me wrong—people's belief in the occult always fascinated me but only to this extent as I venomously didn't believe it for myself. Well, suffice to say, the next few weeks drastically changed my viewpoint.

Picking up my speed, I hurried after Kirsten, my flats smacking the concrete sidewalk as she rushed forward. "Would you slow down?" I demanded.

Giggling, she turned the corner, blonde hair whipping in her haste. "Hurry up."

Deep purple and pink marred the sky as the sun began to set, the ever-present smog of Los Angeles furthering the color palate. Kirstin stood in front of the door to the shop, hands on her slight hips. I pointed to the sign on the large window. "This is it?" A neon hand glowed vibrantly in the display exclaiming PALM READER.

A tiny bell rang as Kirstin opened the door. "Yep." The biting scents of patchouli oil and raw ginger engulfed me as we walked into the tiny shop. I was initially surprised by the state of the store. The walls were covered with dainty wood carvings, shelves adorned with black boxes full of colorful stones. A glass counter was set off to the side, Becca beaming at us as we approached. "Hey, you two!"

Her blonde hair was yanked up atop her head in a claw clip and she used her hands as she told us about acquiring the shop. I'll spare you the boring details. Beneath the glass of the countertop were countless stones in varying hues and I felt mesmerized by their beauty while she spoke. The two went into a heated family discussion I wanted no part of, so I wandered around the shop, taking in the various stones, decks of cards, and odd jewelry. Most of it seemed to be in the category of décor in my eyes while other things, such as the

quick fix for love

potion was a ridiculous snake oil remedy for a broken heart. I chuckled to myself when I saw a powder boasting it would banish bad luck and negative vibes when I heard my name.

"Were you going to give Brooklyn that free reading?" I heard Kirstin ask.

I snapped my head around, staring at her quizzically. "Uh, what?"

Becca ushered me over, the bracelets around her wrists jingling loudly with the movement. "Come on, let me see what the Tarot says for you." She twirled a loose wisp of hair with her fingers as she waited for me to respond. Ah, so that's what this was about. About four months prior, Becca and I had a hot and heavy evening after we had drinks at the bar. After my usual routine of leaving before the sun came up, Becca was distraught. She said we had a connection, our auras aligned. Told me I was a rarity, a latent

therianthrope

. I thought she was crazy or maybe just had a little too much bourbon to drink that night. I avoided her after our interaction.

I shook my head. "Oh no. Thanks but no thanks. Why don't you do Kirstin's?"

She laughed, throwing her head back. "I've read her cards too many times. It's your turn, Brooklyn."

Kirstin hooked her arm around mine, dragging me to the small table through the doorway. "Come on, you know you want to know." Two chairs were around the small table and Kirstin ushered me into the one closest to us while she stood.

After Becca locked the door to the shop, she followed us to the backroom, the beaded curtain shuddering as she walked through. The room was roughly the same size as the storefront, however, it was cloaked in darkness. Black velvet fabric clung to the walls, draped around the dangling chandelier. Overall, it was creepy, and I could see how someone would fall into the nonsense she spewed with the cryptic cards. I snorted as she placed a purple mat over the table, pulling a deck of cards from a black satin bag. She cut the deck, handing me a fourth of the cards. "Here, shuffle these."

Reluctantly, I shuffled the cards, ignoring the ominous feeling as she dimmed the lights and took her seat across from me just in time for me to hand her the cards. "Now what?"

She drew six cards, placing them over the purple fabric with delicacy, her eyes on mine the whole time. Her tongue flickered out, wetting her upper lip. I rolled my eyes again, smirking at her. "Ready?"

"Sure," I said sarcastically. Kirstin nudged my arm and I grinned, shaking my head.

Fine, I'll play Becca's game

I thought.

As she pulled up the first card, Becca's eyes flashed to mine again and she beamed. "The Lovers." The card depicted two people in each other's arms. I had to refrain from rolling my eyes for the umpteenth time. She flipped a second card over, her smile faltering. "Hmm, this is interesting."

Kirstin moved forward, the floorboards creaking under her feet. "What is it?"

I sat back, unamused as I folded my arms over my chest. The card was dark and brooding, but like I've said, I didn't believe in occult, so I didn't bother to read the inscription at the bottom of the card to know what it was. I figured it was nothing and Becca was simply putting on a show. I should've paid more attention to her detail, to the reading in general rather than blowing her off. But, at the time, I was stubborn, assuming the display that followed was simply fueled by Becca's longing to spend another night with me. She continued the dramatic act as she drew another card from the layout, blinking rapidly. She pinched the bridge of her nose. "That's interesting."

Kirstin bumped into my arm. "Death?" Her hovering was beginning to irritate me.

"Well, yes but not in the traditional sense. This card, especially with the rest could indicate a swift change. This," she said, pointing to the lovers card. "Along with Death could signify the beginning of a relationship." Although her tone was optimistic, she chewed on her lower lip, brows furrowed. It was the first occurrence she hadn't made direct eye contact with me while she spoke since Kirstin and I entered the shop. She flipped the remaining two cards and drew a sharp breath, easing back in the chair. "Okay. We're done."

"What is it?" Kirstin asked. I tried to continue my feigned disinterest, but Becca was acting uncharacteristically serious. Then, I lightly reminded myself she was putting on an act, did it for clients all the time and I was no exception. Boy was I a fucking idiot.

"It's inconclusive. I can't make sense of what the cards are trying to tell me," Becca sighed in frustration as she stared at the cards. I tapped my fingers on the tabletop, ignoring her fearful expression. Without a word, she gathered the cards together, placing them back in the satin bag. She folded the placemat while Kirstin continued to ask her what happened.

Standing, Becca looked at us both. "There's not much I can tell about this reading. Too many inconsistencies and the like. I've really got to get back to work, anyway."

"Alright, well, I want some good luck charms before we head out," Kirstin said. She turned and headed out to the storefront, the beaded curtain wavering long after she stepped through the doorway.

"You're going to have to make a decision," Becca whispered. I looked up. Her face was serious as well as her tone.

"What are you talking about?" I asked as I stood from the table. She moved away from me, shuffling through a handful of boxes on the shelf beside the doorway. Turning around, she took my hand and placed a cold stone in my palm. I glanced down at the beautiful purple rock, inspecting it.

"Your secret is not mine to tell but a significant event is about to happen that will change your life forever. You're going to have to choose."

"Becca, I have no idea what you're talking about."

She gave me a pointed glance and shook her head. "That's okay, you will soon." With that, she turned on her heel and pushed through the beaded curtain. I stared at the crystal, heavy in my hand, before I slipped it into the pocket of my jeans and joined the sisters.

Becca was behind the counter again, ringing up Kirstin's pile of good luck charms.

"Are you really buying all that?" I asked incredulously. A four-leaf clover encased in glass, several heart shaped stones fashioned into jewelry, and a small vial stating it was a love potion.

Kirstin pointed a finger at me with a smirk on her face. "Don't you give me shit just because you don't believe in magic." I rolled my eyes, again. I worried they would get stuck in the back of my head if we didn't leave the occult shop soon. My phone rang in my pocket and I took pause as Kirstin continued to give me crap about being a skeptic. "Not everyone can have the sex appeal you do." I whacked Kirstin's arm as I reached for my phone with the other.

"Hello?"

"Is this Brooklyn Cole?" a cool feminine voice asked.

"Yes."

"This is Miranda Phelps, Karen Cole's attorney." Ah, my aunt's attorney. Why was my aunt's attorney calling me?

"Okay?" I chewed my lip. Kirstin and Becca were chatting, and I moved away from them.

"I'm sorry to be the one telling you this, but your aunt passed away last night."

***

The phone call came as a surprise to me. I hadn't spoken to my aunt in almost ten months, hadn't seen her physically in over two years. Miranda, my aunt's attorney, informed me I was the sole recipient of Aunt Karen's entire estate and her assets. As the only living relative of hers, I wasn't too shocked to hear this. Cancer took her, and I felt guilt for not reaching out to her. If I'd known, perhaps I could've been by her side during the last moments of her life. Her attorney faxed me the will and there was no stated value on the property or the amount in my aunt's accounts. At least my first thought wasn't how much I'd be getting—that was the second thought that came to mind.

"You okay?" Kirstin asked as I packed my suitcase. Two days had gone by since the weird card reading and the phone call. I had to meet with attorney, all the way in Washington. I figured a break from work would do me good anyway and I was excited to see the potential of the property.

"Yeah, it's just weird I get all of it. Aunt Karen and I weren't even close." I pulled my mess of auburn hair, fixing it in a bun at the back of my head.

"What do you think you'll find there?"

"I'm not sure what to expect." It was true—I didn't know what I was getting myself into by dropping everything to deal with my dead aunt's affairs. Part of me was thankful for the reprieve from life, from the city. My aunt's death was a shitty reason for a break, but I took it gladly.

Kirstin smirked at me. "I bet you're looking forward to checking out the gay clubs in Seattle."

I snorted. "As if. The property is in bumfuck Washington, out on some island in the water. I doubt I'll find many women out there. Maybe some hippie midwives or someone your sister would find irresistible. You know, total free spirit living off the land and communing with the dead. That sort of thing."

"Oh, shut up. You could find a woman in the middle of the bible belt willing to go down on you."

"You give my sexual prowess far too much credit, my friend," I said. Though, she wasn't kidding. I could be very persuasive and when I found someone I was interested in, I went after her with a sense of determination. I took my conquests serious and Kirstin knew this. It was like a compulsion, a fixation that wouldn't abate until I conquered.

Kirstin stood and stretched, yawning obnoxiously. "I'm out. Don't have too much fun up there. You've got to be at the party on Wednesday."

"You know I will be. Now, get out so I can sleep before I have to leave for the airport."

After I booted her out the door, I finished my packing and went to bed.

The trip went by in a blur, as one would imagine from a middle of the night 'morning' flight. Once I reached SeaTac, I grabbed my rental car and headed out to drive the three hours to the ferry terminal that would get me to the island I needed to get to.

The ferry horn blared overhead, reverberating deep in my chest. Splashes of cool ocean water lifted into the air as the vessel plunged forward on the rocky surf, sprinkling my face and hands as I gripped the railing. It was beautiful; the Puget Sound spread out in front of me with a thin layer of mist clinging to the small islands. I pulled the crumpled paper from my jacket and reread the words I'd nearly memorized on the flight from LAX. It was the faxed copy of my aunt's will, naming me the recipient of her entire estate, which was saying a lot as it was over five acres of land on Orcas Island, Washington. A quick search on a real estate webpage listed the estimated price to be well over one million. Obviously, my first inclination was to sell, not only because I wanted the money but because I couldn't see myself living on a desolate island in the middle of the Puget Sound. Being stuck on an island with the only way off by boat wasn't what I had in mind for my place of residence.

The sun had barely peeked over the Cascades when I boarded the boat and now it was spilling across the water, causing the surface to shimmer as the boat cut through the surf. My flight had come in the day before and instead of starting the travel mid-afternoon, I'd stayed in a hotel in Seattle until early that morning before I set off. I planned to meet with the neighbor of the property around nine and I was set to be right on time, barring any difficulty finding the location. Wind whipped my hair into my face, forcing me to pull it back.

The boat approached the islands and my eyes widened at the beauty of the area. Instantly, I could see why people gave up the bustle of the city for the natural majesty in front of me. Land jutted out, stretching into the waters with varying hues of greens. The ferry pushed forward between two islands, Orcas on the right and Shaw on the left. I was in awe, gazing out at the rocky beaches, perched homes lining the shore's edge, until an announcement overhead alerted the riders of our arrival and to return to our vehicles. I headed back to the rental car below deck and waited.

Once on the island, I followed the GPS on my phone, thanking the internet Gods I had enough service to find my way to the location. Although my aunt invited me to her new home on several occasions, I'd never taken up her offer. The cottage was a petite building surrounded by thick copses of trees and a forest that stretched out for miles behind it. An enclosure larger than the home was set off a few yards from the house, three little alpaca heads poking up from the piles of hay on the ground at the sound of my tires crunching over the rock driveway. I pulled up close to the gray pickup truck in front of the house, peering around, trying to locate the neighbor who'd I'd spoken the previous day.

Tall ivy covered the archway of the porch, trailing down the wooden planks. I stepped up cautiously, a deep foreboding oozing from the small home. The building was in decent shape from the outside despite the overgrowth of foliage around its structure. I knew when I sold, the buyers would probably knock down the cottage to erect a large home or farm, to take advantage of the massive acreage. I shook the irrational fear from me as I turned the doorknob, surprised when it opened without difficulty. Maybe Bert, the neighbor, was inside. We'd spoken on the phone the day before, him telling me he'd be there at seven in the morning to tend to the alpacas. Aunt Karen kept the three animals for her retired pastime of knitting, hand-spinning their fur into yarn for her projects.

The living room was directly as I walked in, the entire space darkened, but I could make out several couches surrounding a large television where Aunt Karen probably spent most of her last days with cancer. Had I known of her illness prior, I would've come and stayed with her until the end. Of course, I felt guilty for not having taken the time out of my life to give her at least a phone call. Scant texts and emails didn't offer us any closeness and now she was gone, leaving everything of hers to my name. She hadn't any children and as the only child of her dead sister, I was the sole next of kin. A massive bookcase was set off by the television and I eyed the bindings.

A shadow dashed across the living room, toying with the rays of sunshine filtering in through the parted curtains. I squinted and moved closer, the anomaly catching my eye. The room lay still, and I held my breath waiting to see a glimpse of it again. A ghost, perhaps, I wondered absently. Again, I didn't believe in the occult but for a moment, I held my breath, waiting to see the darkened shadow move again. The ominous feeling the house exuded had to be responsible for my sudden superstition along with the tarot card reading I'd been given a few days before. Could the shadow be Aunt Karen's ghost? The thought sent a shiver over my spine and I chewed my lip. A squirrel jumped from the beams above my head and I screamed, stepping back. The furry critter hopped across the floor and bolted around me.

"Ah, you must be Brooklyn, Karen's niece?" a loud voice boomed from the open door. I jumped, holding in the shriek that almost left my lungs. I whipped around, meeting the smiling neighbor of the property, his weathered face kind.

"Boy, you scared me worse than the squirrel. Yes, that would be me and you're Bert?"

He nodded, shaking my hand before stepping back out onto the porch. "Bert Ames. I believe we talked on the phone. Glad you made it over. I hate to introduce you to the property this way but one of the girls is sick and I may have to put a call out to the vet." Bert was already walking toward the alpaca pen.

"One of the girls?" I asked, following him down the slight incline to the large fenced area. Two of the alpacas snorted as we got closer. They were adorable, the fur covering their faces in thick tufts. "Oh, my God, they are so cute," I said. Bert laughed, reaching over to open the gate. I followed him, staring in awe at the fluffy creatures.

"They're adorable!" I exclaimed like a little kid. Two of the alpacas walked up to us, one nudging Bert's shoulder and snorting loudly. Another area was fenced off toward the edge of the woods, the space empty. "What's in there?" I asked, pointing to it.

"Used to be goats," Bert answered before drawing my attention to the alpaca. "Hazel hasn't been acting herself," he said, pointing to the rust colored animal, the only one laying in the grass. The others surrounded us, hoping for food, I assumed.

"What's wrong with her?" I asked. The most I knew about animals was isolated to the one time I had a cat as a kid, my scarce knowledge not extending to livestock. We hadn't had the cat very long because it was oddly terrified of me. I didn't even know if alpaca were considered livestock.

Bert knelt beside the animal, petting her head. "She hasn't been eating the last few days and now she's been sitting here since last evening. I've looked her up and down but can't seem to figure out what's wrong with her other than a scab on her leg." Standing, he dusted off his pants and turned to me. "I'm going to head down the country store to grab some psyllium in case it's colic and if that doesn't help, I'll give out a call to the vet."

"Thank you so much for taking over their care after my aunt passed. I'm going to try to find a buyer soon because I don't know anything about alpacas." My gratitude was sincere. If he hadn't been able to tend to them until I got there, they surely would've died.