Shadow's Kiss (Monstrous Hearts: Fleur's Story)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Fleur had to admit that it was nice to get away from the heat. The temperature gauge on Fiona's car slowly dropped now that they were two hours into the drive, and the anticipation was enough for Fleur to pull on her hoodie. Her foot tapped impatiently while she eyed the rolling pastures of dairy farms on either side. She wanted to see Dario. Everything else felt unimportant, even her vague nerves over staying in a pretentious hotel full of strange people.

Fiona's Mercedes was technically a 4-seater, but at the moment there was hardly room for them. Fleur's backpack took up the space for her legs. The rest of the car was stuffed full of her aunt's luggage.

"Do you want to talk at all?" asked Fiona, who looked chic as ever in dark, oversized shades and a chiffon scarf styled over her hair that implied the car's top would come down at some point in the journey. From her affable tone, she would be happy with any answer.

"No, fresh air is fine."

Soon, wind roared from all sides, immediately whipping Fleur's hair into her face and reducing her view to flashes. The air felt cool and briny. Wisps of marine fog wound around the tops of hills. Eventually, farmland and pastures shifted into windswept cypresses and rugged land too steep for anything except deer. The ocean itself appeared on their left, deep blue and sparkling. Foam sprayed against dark, jagged rock. There were no boats in view. The highway became constant switchbacks, and she stared out as the redwoods and other evergreens on her right closed in and the road narrowed to a thin, crumbling strip. A glance down revealed that all the trees looming far above the car also plunged far down below into shadow. They were surrounded by churning waves and sharp ravines.

She waited for unease to twist her stomach, but it never came, which fit with what she had noticed about her sleeping patterns lately—namely, no more nightmares about those witches in the woods. Those vivid, horrifying scenes that choked her mouth with blood and burned a leering ring of faces into her brain were now dulled and indistinct, painful only in the way of scar tissue. She had never realized how much of a relief it was to sleep for hours and wake up without panic lingering in her mind. 'Normal' as she knew it was shifting.

When a sign appeared for the hotel, she chewed on her lip, wondering how the next few days would go. What was about to happen to her heart? And for that matter, to her sanity from being around people? Then she breathed in deep and straightened up in her seat. If she could pull away from the shadows of that coven, then she could handle a few social niceties, too.

She hoped.

Her aunt exclaimed and turned onto a new road. The car took the steep climb with ease as they rounded a final curve. "This is it."

Fleur looked away from the ocean, taking in the sight of the Sandpiper Shore hotel. It was long and weathered, made of glass and stone and old-fashioned shingle walls that had darkened like tree bark from the wind and salt, but there was also a calculated air to the rustic appearance. It gave Fleur the same sense as when her mother had briefly developed an obsession with burlap and jute rope-influenced home decor—an effort to avoid opulence and perfection while still appearing calming and stylish. She could already guess the type of people who would come here: the ones who wanted to gulp down chilled oysters and expensive wine while talking about how refreshing it was to be in the remote wilderness.

Fiona's car turned into the driveway, which immediately opened up into a roofed area for people to park and check in at the lobby. They weren't the only ones there. In fact, Fleur counted three other cars while she and Fiona got out and went inside. Fiona's heels rapped against a hardwood floor made up into diamond patterns from the differently colored boards. Fleur's sneakers remained silent as they got into the small line of guests waiting to check in. She couldn't help craning her neck to look through the windows, eager for any sign of Dario.