Enchanting Wilder Read Online Free Page B

up in this life. Things don’t just happen on accident. Everything happens for a reason.
    Wood turns north on a busy street, shifting The Sting into a higher gear. “I actually came across a book a few years back and supposedly there are beings that come to you in dreams as birds…or sometimes other animals, though birds are the most common. They warn you of your impending death.”
    My forehead and nose crinkle and I give him a what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about glance. Is that why he was asking me about birds earlier?
    He rolls his eyes. “You need to read a book, Declan.”
    I pop him on the shoulder with the back of my hand. “Shut up.”
    He laughs, sufficiently satisfied with pulling my chain. “Legend has it that Strix—that’s what they’re called—are able to move about in the dreams of humans to let them know their death is near. And then the dreamer is given a choice. Either make the good choice, or the wrong choice. If the bad choice is made, the books say the soul goes straight into Limbo—or oblivion or something—and gets pulled and manipulated until its turn into something sinister.”
    I adjust in my seat, not liking where this conversation is heading. “Something sinister? Like a demon?”
    “Something like that.”
    “Dammit,” I say, rubbing my eyes.
    Wood pulls into a restaurant and puts the car in park. “But you didn’t see a bird. You saw a woman. It couldn’t have been a Strix. You aren’t supposed to be able to see them in their human form.”
    Oh. Makes sense. “I guess. But,” I say, getting out of the car, “who supposedly tampers with the souls that go rogue, or bad?”
    Wood slams the door to The Sting and walks next to me as we make our way inside the chain restaurant. “Mara. Think of them as the complete opposite of Strix. They’re evil sons of bitches. Once Mara get hold of a soul, there’s no telling what they’ll do to it.”
    Maybe I do need to do some more research. I’m supposed to be at the top of my game. “What are they? The Strix and Mara, I mean?”
    Wood pulls the heavy glass door open, giving me an apprehensive glance. “Witches.”
    My shoulders slump. And now the odd side look he gave me makes sense.
    I’m not particularly fond of witches. With their spewing of bodily fluids and dead animal carcasses to cast spells, they give me the creeps. My body shudders. “Witches, man.” I shake my head.
    Wood sits down in a huff at a booth and I do the same on the opposite side of him. The orange fabric clings to my jacket and I quickly pull it off my shoulders.
    “There are some good ones out there.”
    I level my eyes at him over the laminated menu. “Not any we’ve met.”
    Wood shrugs a shoulder and chews on the inside of his lip. “True, but we’ve never met a Strix. They’re supposed to be the most kind of all the covens.”
    “Supposed to be,” I scoff. “I thought they weren’t real.”
    Wood sets his menu down and tugs at his hair. “Dude, ghosts are real. Demons are real. Damn werewolves,” he whispers, “are real. A coven of nice witches is completely possible.”
    Spinning the ring on my left pointer finger, I decide it’s best not to dwell on probably isn’t real. “Yeah, well. It wasn’t a Strix in my dream. Just some girl and a douchebag demon. It was nothing.”
     

     
    “Wood!” I whisper-yell into the darkness. “Where the hell are you?”
    We arrived in Iowa City early this afternoon, and immediately got down to business. We made our way to the family’s house to get eyewitness accounts and electromagnetic readings. The house was off the charts with energy. There was no doubt in my mind something was there, we just had to figure out what it was.
    Because we couldn’t solve the case right then and there, it was clear we needed the house to ourselves, free of anyone or anything to tamper with our investigation. The family graciously agreed to stay in a hotel so we could clean house.
    It seemed like a simple cut and