Warped by Maurissa Guibord Read Free Book Online Page B

you ever have dreams about it?” Tessa asked.
    “What, you mean where I’m Cleopatra or something? Nope. But I did have this dream last week that Bugs Bunny was chasing me through the school. Only he was a really mean Bugs. We had to have a lockdown and I hid under my desk.” Opal frowned. “Sorry. Got sidetracked. Why do you ask? You think you’re reincarnated?”
    “No,” Tessa said quickly. “Of course not. Just wondering.”
    Opal stepped back from the tapestry and frowned. “Are you really going to leave this up on your wall?”
    Tessa shrugged. “Why not? You’re always saying my room looks like an obsessive-compulsive nun lives here. That it needs redecorating.”
    “Uh, no, Miss Spartan-Pants. It needs decorating, not redecorating. Like more of your own artwork,” said Opal, giving her a pointed look. “Pictures of hotties. Democratic campaign buttons. Not gothic-looking fantasy creatures.” She stared again at the unicorn. “That’ll give you nightmares, Tessa.”
    Tessa let her eyes roam over the tapestry, past the unicorn into the deep shadows of the background and back again to the creature. She reached out to touch it, then stopped. She didn’t know what was happening to her. But she was going to figure it out. “I’m going to keep it,” she whispered. “It’s so beautiful, and wild, and sad.”
    Opal bounced back down on Tessa’s bed and opened the magazine. She glanced up once more and said with finality, “I think it looks rabid.”

Chapter 8
    THE FOREST OF HARTESCROSS
    CORNWALL
    1511
    D eep in the forest, William de Chaucy walked his horse along a rough path. Fallen branches and moss-choked rivulets crisscrossed the way and made it slow going. He had traversed these woods often enough, but it seemed different today. The darkness was surprising. Outside, it was a clear day, but here the trees made a green canopy, hung like a thick blanket overhead. All around him cool emerald shadows played upon black. It was a different world. A dark world.
    He listened. Only the snap of twigs beneath his feet and the moist snuffle of Hannibal’s breath against his neck broke the heavy stillness.
    Will shook his head. “What am I doing here?” he murmured.
    As if in answer, the horse threw his great dark head, making his livery jingle.
    “You’re right, it’s foolish,” murmured Will with a smile, looking around. “I might as well hunt pixies.” And he was talking to his horse . Hugh would be vastly entertained.
    Then he saw her. Her face peeked out at him from behind a curtain of leaves. She didn’t move, and for a moment he thought it was an animal, or some trick of the shadows. But no forest creature had eyes like that. They were deep blue, like faceted jewels. And they met his own and held his gaze for the length of a breath. Her skin was pale except for two spots of color on her cheeks where her exertions had made them rosy. Her dark hair was in a gleaming tumble upon her shoulders.
    “Hello?” he said at last.
    She bolted, tearing through the undergrowth with a faint cry.
    “No. Don’t—wait!” Without thinking, Will dropped Hannibal’s reins and dashed after her. But he soon realized that he hadn’t a prayer of catching her. He only glimpsed the flash of a pair of slim legs leaping over a bent sapling before she was gone, as quickly as a will-o’-the-wisp.
    He’d frightened her. He hadn’t meant to.
    Will stopped running and listened. There was only silence, not even the chatter of birds. He took a deep breath, filling his chest with the liquid scent of the forest and letting it out again. His breath made faint plumes of vapor on the cool air. It was getting darker, and the girl couldn’t know these woods. How the devil did she think she’d find her way back?
    “Hello?” he called again. “Mistress?” Leaves brushed his shoulders, and small prickly vines tugged at his boots as if they were reaching out to embrace him, or to hold him back. “Are you there?” he