Of Darkness (Supernatural Mates Book One)

|07| Confusion

|Confusion|

     I woke up in the middle of the night with a jolt. It was the fourth time that I had fallen asleep and woken up already within the last three hours. What felt like hours of restless sleep, had only been minutes. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as to why I kept waking up.

     It was the grimoire.

     I felt it when Dean had it in the library and when he held in my front yard. An inexplicable pull; like it was literally lifting my body by puppet strings toward it. It explained why I kept waking up, ready to run to wherever it was hiding.

     I turned to check my Lego Stormtropper alarm clock to check the time, but it was too dark to see in my room even with the fairy lights hanging inside mason jars around my room. I smacked its head and saw it light up in blue, the time reading 3:07.

     Growing up my grandmother had explained to me that nothing good could happen between 3:00 and 4:00 in the morning. It was considered the witching hour—a time when witches, demons, ghosts or any supernatural creature were at their strongest and most volatile.

     I knew in the back of my head that it was a bad idea, but I also knew that I wouldn't get any sleep if I didn't go now. I'd be in a constant in and out of sleep restlessness, and if I could avoid it, I would. I was already in black leggings and an oversized long-sleeved white t-shirt, but because it was already autumn and because it was 3 a.m. I needed layers to keep me warm. I put on a pair of socks and then another pair of wool socks over that before stepping into my black Tims.

     I grabbed my phone and slipped it between my body and the waistband of my leggings before quietly creeping toward my door. I knew that Luce was knocked out in her bedroom beside mine, but Dad was unpredictable. Some nights he'd come home from work and fall asleep right away until the next morning, but others he was wide awake. Ever since Mom died he'd had problems sleeping. He grew restless, uncomfortable and lonely without her beside him, so sometimes Luce and I would crawl in beside him and keep him company.

     I peeked down the hall and looked toward my parents' bedroom. There was no light streaming between the cracks in the door, so I was in the clear...unless Dad was in his office. I trekked down four stairs before I came to an opening in the wall, and then proceeded to straddle the banister and slide down until I reached the end. With some difficulty, I was able to climb off and onto the floor, only making the slightest of sounds as my feet hit the floor.

     I stilled for a moment at the bottom of the stairs, trying to listen for any extra sounds besides my own. When I heard none I tiptoed toward the coat closet and grabbed a gray hoodie and an oversized denim jacket. I reached for my wallet and then my car keys, but stopped halfway. My hands hovered over the car keys for a moment and then my eyes slid toward the stairs. If I grabbed my keys and took my car I could wake up Luce and Dad. But on the other hand if I didn't, it would give the spirits on my front lawn a better chance at launching themselves at me. I bit my lower lip gently in contemplation before I finally settled on grabbing my bike.

     I walked through the door quietly and closed the door softly behind me, making sure to lock it before I left anywhere. My bike was already leaning against the wall on the porch, and as quickly as I moved, I felt the unmistakable, familiar shivering sensation that encompassed me as spirits grew near to me. I grabbed my bike and ran down the stairs with it in hand, not looking a single spirit in the eye. The friendly spirits I had come to know as my family were gone, off somewhere else or finding shelter away from the witching hour. All that was left were the newer, more unfamiliar ghost and the ones that teemed with power. Both I was wary of, but the powerful ones were the ones I was most afraid of. They never spoke to me, just stared from afar, almost like they were shy and didn't know how to approach me. But all of that "shyness" was gone. Now they approached me—slowly and with unnerving expressionless faces.