Free Watch Me Burn: The December People, Book Two by Sharon Bayliss

pinpoint their location. She could tell by the nature of the energy whether or not they had fallen asleep yet. She had also mastered the art of quiet. She had honed this skill while she hid from Whitman Colter in the pitch dark desert. She found she could slide through darkness and almost be invisible. Not literally invisible—but if the darkness were water, she could slide through it without a ripple or splash.
    When she made it outside, she ran to the truck, her heart racing, cricket song covering the sound of her footsteps. She loved that moment. The moment when she knew she had gotten away with it. She was free. She would probably get caught, and end up more trapped than before. But at least for this moment, she could do anything she wanted. And what she wanted right now was to go lurk through a dark and evil forest.
    She enjoyed this time of night. Around 3 a.m., too late for most people to be still up, and too early for most people to start the day. In the Houston Metroplex, people were on the roads all the time, but at this time of night, the roads had more of a hushed quality. And most of the stores were dark inside. Quiet.
    Once she made it to the smaller country highway, the darkness became more total. She only passed a few cars. And even then, they were nothing more than anonymous headlights. She was alone. She had her phone off. She was nowhere.
    She had to admit, part of her hoped she’d run into Nathan again. She found herself wishing it to the point that she may have cast a spell to make it happen. She didn’t know if she could do that. The concept behind casting spells was simple, but she couldn’t manage to get anything she wanted anytime she wanted it. Half the time, the spells she cast didn’t do anything.
    She found the little spot in the trees where Nathan had parked before. She was disappointed to see the spot empty. But as worried as he was about his little sister, she doubted he spent all night, every night looking for her. Last time she had seen him at daybreak. She guessed a summer wizard wouldn’t venture out here until the sun came over the horizon.
    She sat parked for a while before getting out. Despite her own darkness, the gloom of the forest intimidated her. It seemed as if forest wasn’t dark because of the night, but the night was dark because of the forest. Shadows oozed from between the trees like tar, extinguishing all the ambient light from the massive metropolis around it. It reminded Emmy of when the family had called upon the darkness on the Winter Solstice. That darkness hadn’t scared her—in fact, she had never been happier. That night they all got to be exactly what they were, but only the best parts of what they were. The twilight on that night had not threatened her, but exhilarated her. Vast and too beautiful for words—a night sky littered with stars, a deep infinity of beauty. Both proof something much greater than her existed in the world, but also proof all the magic and mystery in the world was hers to touch, flowing through her.
    Clutching her flashlight, she got out of the car and walked past the tree line. She reminded herself again that darkness wasn’t scary. She thought about how the darkness on the solstice had opened up her lungs so she could breathe more deeply and fully than ever before. The solstice darkness felt clean and pure as untouched spring water in a cave. However, this night felt the opposite. It suffocated her. It felt thick. Dirty. Walking through it felt like wading through mud.
    She lost track of her path, and turned on the flashlight. The bulb looked dim and orange, as if the batteries had run low, but Emmy suspected the darkness in the forest was draining the illumination. She turned off the sad little light. Flashlights were tools for Mundanes anyway.
    The trees seemed unusually thick, and it took forever to cross a short distance. When she finally got a pace going, she found herself back at the truck. She had walked in a damn circle.