Hidden in the Heartwood {sapphic paranormal}

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

16. || the place i left behind.

"Boots?"

The pungent smell of gas stung Finley's nostrils as a heat scorched her arm, startling her from an unexpected sleep. Recoiling from its burn, she dug her fingertips into soft wool—the sheepskin cover of the passenger seat.

"Hey, sorry," the rasp in River's voice hushed to velvet as they pulled back. "You fell asleep. I wanted to let ya snooze longer, but you were shakin' and shiverin' something awful."

Her heart continued to race as she released her grip on the seat cover, regaining her bearings. They were back in Hemlock Hollow, parked alongside River's cabin, but her mind kept wanting to yank her back to the place she left behind.

She tried to still her trembling jaw as she found her voice. "It's uh, probably just my blood sugar or something."

"You haven't ate today, have ya?"

Rubbing her head, she actually couldn't remember her last bite of food. Thursday night, maybe? "It's okay, I've gone longer. River, do you smell—"

"Gone longer? Why didn't ya say somethin' this morning? I threw out a plate of fried mush and—"

"I'm fine, really," Finley insisted. River didn't need to know her complicated history with food and that the Demon controlled it. The smell of gas began to dissipate as she wrapped River's jacket tighter around her body. "I could definitely use a change of clothes before dinner though. If that's okay."

Nodding their head, River opened their door. "Why don't you head inside and get yourself warm and cleaned up? I still gotta harvest our sidedish."

"I'll help." Finley hopped down from the jeep, legs still asleep and numb, her foot especially so. "Harvest?"

"See them wee yeller flowers?"

What little daylight remained crept in between the pines as Finley squinted towards the back of the cabin where River pointed. Brown, crisp, leafy stalks at least double her height grew along the edge of the woods. Little yellow flowers, mostly all dried up, crowned the top of the plant, but she didn't recognize it as anything more than a weed.

"Since we're already dirty, might as well get dirtier, right?"

"Wait, where's the talisman?" Finley asked, turning back towards the jeep.

"Makin' a lovely rustic centerpiece for supper. And the new hen's fittin' in just fine with the otherns. Though, she hasn't forgotten you promised her some blossoms."

Finley dipped her hand into the jacket pocket, feeling the silk thornberry petals as she followed River to the row of hemlocks. "How long was I asleep for?"

"An hour, maybe? Plus the ride. Seemed like ya needed it so I just waited til the gloaming rolled in." River gripped one of the stalks and pulled up, unearthing a clump of tuberous roots. Tossing it to the ground, they took the hatchet from their belt and whacked the stem off. "Didn't want them woodland haunts spookin' ya awake, but I guess I went and did that for 'em, huh?"

"Well, I'd much rather wake up next to you than Buckmouse." Finley caught a flash of white teeth through the dirt on River's face as she realized what she'd said. "I'd rather wake up to you, that is. Or with you. I just mean I'm glad it was you. Waking, me."

Returning the hatchet to their belt, River pushed up their sleeves as the grin continued to spread across their face. "I suppose there's worse haunts to wake up next to in these woods."

River's piercing gaze began to warm her in ways it probably shouldn't so Finley buried her eyes in the uprooted ground. "So, uh..." With the toe of her borrowed boot, she nudged the root. "What are these?"