Wendy cast a wary glance down both sides of the street. “Let’s keep walking,” she said.
Peter fell into step beside her. Fewer and fewer places felt safe anymore, and the last thing she needed was to be overheard talking to Peter by Jordan or the cops or, even worse, her parents.
“They do think you have something to do with the missing kids,” she continued.
“We already knew that from the news,” Peter pointed out.
“It doesn’t seem like you’re a suspect”—Peter winced—“I think they think that you were kidnapped, too,” she added quickly. “And since they connected you to my disappearance, they think that the person who is taking the kids now is the person who took me and my brothers.”
Peter only nodded. It was hard to read his expression as he stared down at his feet, deep in thought.
Wendy sighed and rubbed her palm against her forehead. “I guess, technically, they’re right?” she thought out loud. “Your shadow took my brothers and now it’s taking more kids.”
Again, Peter said nothing.
Wendy wrung her hands together. “It’s not hurting them, is it?” she asked, nervous to hear the answer.
Peter shook his head. “No, they need to be alive,” he told her, looking dismayed.
Wendy didn’t like how that sounded.
“In order for the shadow to feed off them, they have to be awake.”
“Awake and terrified,” Wendy finished.
Peter nodded again.
He’d told her before how shadows got stronger by feeding off of a person’s fear. Their terror and sadness, their sense of hopelessness. John and Michael had been trapped by the shadow for years. What was it like for them? What kind of existence was it, to be consumed by fear and unable to escape it?
Wendy’s chest ached. She couldn’t stand the thought of them suffering, especially for so long. She and Peter needed to rescue them.
“Do you know where they are?” Wendy asked.
“No—well, in the woods,” Peter corrected himself. “Definitely in the woods, but it could be hiding them anywhere with magic.”
They crossed the street and started walking down the road that led into town. It was the road that hugged the woods. The same one where Wendy had found Peter. They walked along the shoulder but, even in daylight, it made the hair on the back of her neck prickle. Her steps became slower and more hesitant. The overgrown trees and hanging branches loomed above them.
Peter put himself between her and the woods, pushing rogue branches out of the way as they walked. His presence made her feel … better. Less scared, like she had someone who finally knew what she was going through. Someone to go through it with. But then there was also this undeniable warmth that she could feel radiating through her body when she was close to him.
She took a quick couple of steps to catch up to Peter and fall into stride next to him, far away enough to not be touching him, but close enough that she could reach out and brush her knuckles against his if she wanted to.
Wendy glanced over and took in his profile: his nose that turned up just a little at the tip, the hard line of his jaw, the small points to his ears. He wore the jeans Wendy had patched and a dusty rose T-shirt that was sun bleached but made his eyes all the more disarming.
Wendy wondered if the heat she felt was part of Peter’s magic. Or was it just … him?
It was comforting, but she could still feel the woods pressing against her mind. They buzzed like the pressure in her ears when she dove into the deep end of the pool at swim practice. She still felt like she was being watched, just as she had last night in her driveway. The memory came flooding back to her.
“There’s something I forgot to tell you about last night, before you found me in the woods,” Wendy said slowly.
Peter turned to look at her. “What happened?” he asked, face scrunched up like he was bracing himself to get hit.
“I went to get my swim bag out of my truck last night,” she began. “It was dark out and while I was digging around for it, I could—” Wendy paused, trying to put the experience into words. “Feel something behind me. I turned around and out of nowhere there was this guy. He started talking to me.” Wendy watched him for his reaction, absently rubbing her arm as she remembered how her skin had crawled.
“Didn’t you just get done telling Cassidy not to talk to strangers?” Peter asked, cocking an eyebrow at her.
Wendy felt a flare of annoyance. This wasn’t a time for jokes.
“He knew who I was, Peter,” she snapped. “He knew my name, he said he had seen me at the hospital before, he actually asked me if I wanted to go for a walk with him in the woods.” Wendy shuddered.