Free Stormfront (Undertow Book 2) by K.R. Conway Page A

until she mentioned horseback riding. I had ridden most of my life in Kansas and loved the feel of a horse under me, the rocking motion being its own form of mediation. I jumped at the chance to ride again , and Mae was able to find me a barn that could aid in my recovery – Blackstone Acres a few towns over from my house.
    Raef hated the idea. I didn’t know why until he revealed that he couldn’t be around animals. He said t hat as soul thieves, neither he nor Kian could safely come with me, or the horses might bolt and throw people in their panic. So MJ had stepped up to the plate and accompanied me in his human form.
    Unfortunately my last riding session was today, the day after Thanksgiving, and MJ was still in the land of palm trees and scantily clad women. I had no problem going alone, especially since a quick one-on-one with Mae’s new employer, Christian, revealed absolutely no talk of the Breakers in the New England Mortis community. In the last five weeks, not a single soul thief came after me.
    Plus, it was the off-season for Cape Cod, and when the tourists left, the soul sharks often did as well. Without swimmers in the water, hunting on the Cape became more of a liability for a Mortis. Hiding bodies on such a small peninsula wasn’t easy, but swimmers would just appear to have drowned.
    So when the beachgoers vacated the cold Atlantic water, the Mortis did too. They favored the southern parts of the country, or the more remote Northern woods, where bodies would be taken care of by bears. How nice – I lived in their summer hunting grounds. Just peachy.
    I assured Raef that I would be riding in the indoor arena, as always, and he finally accepted the fact that I was going. He knew he couldn’t dictate what I could and couldn’t do – no one can hold that power over you unless you let him. Sure, I could have skipped riding just to make him happy, but I loved riding. Plus, I wanted to prove to Raef, once and for all, that I could go places without him and come home in one piece.
     
    By the time I got over to Blackstone it was early afternoon. I had agreed to meet sweet (but air-headed) Sarah, another rider and part-time instructor, around 2:30.
    I pulled my horse, Porter, from his stall and brushed him down, checking him over for any ticks or stones in his feet. By 2:45 I was tacked up and ready to ride.
    Sarah, however, was nowhere to be found. 
    This was a problem since I didn’t have her phone number.
    I looked around the barn. I could see a girl about 12 stalls down from me cleaning a saddle. I yelled down to her, “Hey – do you know Sarah’s phone number?”
    The girl looked up from the leather she was polishing, “Does she own the mental-case Arabian?”
    “Yeah. That’s her. Do you have her number?”
    “No, I’m sorry,” called back the girl.
    “Okay. Thanks,” I yelled back. I looked at my watch. It was now 2:50pm. 
    “Screw it,” I muttered to myself.  I wasn’t about to not ride because I was stuck without a riding buddy. I led Porter out of the barn and toward the indoor arena, but Saddle Girl called down to me, “The indoor is closed for now. They are going to be dragging it with the tractor to level the ground in about 10 minutes.”
    Terrific. I looked to the tree line and the clearing where the trails started. It was a beautiful day and the air was not that cold. Most of the snow had melted over the past 24 hours and the ground was no longer frozen.
    I made a split decision to trail ride and lead Porter into the shadows of the trees. I swung myself on and adjusted my reins. “I just won’t tell Raef, that’s all,” I said to Porter, who was tossing his head excitedly. I took one last look at my watch, noting approximately how much time I had before the sun set, and rode off into the tall pines.
    Blackstone had roughly 30 acres of trails that wound through fields, forest, and cranberry bogs.  Bisecting the expanse of land was a long, straight dirt track that ran for