Chereads / A New Stranger / Chapter 7 - Chapter 7: Between Light and Shadow

Chapter 7 - Chapter 7: Between Light and Shadow

The pendant's hum still lingers in my chest as the morning light filters through my window. I sit up, groggy from the restless dreams that haunted my sleep. That pull—the strange, insistent tug calling me toward something I don't yet understand—still clings to me. But I push it aside, at least for now. I have other things to worry about today. Like Justin.

We haven't talked since I ignored his call yesterday, and I can't avoid him forever. We still need to finish that paper, and honestly, I need a break from all the strange, unsettling things that have been happening lately. I need something normal. Although the conversation with his sister the other night was anything but normal.

With a sigh, I grab my phone and start typing out a message.

Hey, I know things have been weird, but do you want to meet at the library today to work on our paper?

I stare at the screen, my thumb hovering over the send button. The thought of seeing him sends a flutter of nerves through me, but I can't pinpoint why. It's not like anything's changed between us… except everything has. I hit send before I can overthink it and wait, my stomach twisting with anticipation.

My phone buzzes a few seconds later, and I quickly unlock it to see his reply.

I can't make it to the library today, but you could come over to my place. We can work on the paper here.

I freeze, my pulse quickening. His place. The house. The same place I've been avoiding ever since the first time I saw it.

Just the thought of going back there makes my chest tighten. I still don't know what it is about that house that unnerves me, but I know it's more than just the way it looks. It's the way it felt—like the air itself was watching me, waiting for me to make the wrong move. And now, he's asking me to go back there.

I swallow hard, my fingers trembling slightly as I type back:

Your place? Are you sure?

His reply comes almost instantly.

Yeah, it's fine. It'll be quiet, and we can get the paper done.

Quiet. Right. But it's not the quiet I'm worried about. It's everything else that house represents. Still, I can't exactly say no without it being obvious that something's off, and I'm not ready to explain why the idea of going to his house makes my skin crawl.

Before I can second-guess myself, I type:

Okay, I'll come over. What time?

Another buzz.

3. I'll be waiting.

I stare at the message, my heart pounding in my chest. This is it. I've agreed to go back to that house. I try to tell myself it's just to work on the paper, but deep down, I know there's more to it than that. There's something about Justin—something about that house—that draws me in, even as every instinct screams at me to stay away.

As I get ready to leave, I glance at the pendant still resting on my dresser. Its silver crescent gleams in the soft morning light, almost as if it's waiting for me, calling to me the way it did last night. I hesitate, my fingers hovering above it.

A part of me wonders if wearing it will somehow protect me, like it's a shield against whatever it is that's been creeping into my life lately. But another part of me, the part that can't forget the strange hum of energy pulsing from it, wonders if it's the very thing drawing me deeper into the unknown.

My fingers brush against the cool metal, and a faint pulse of warmth spreads through my hand. It's subtle, almost too faint to notice, but it's there. I pull my hand back, a knot tightening in my chest.

What if the pendant isn't just a piece of my past? What if it's a key—a key to a world I'm not ready to face?

I close my eyes, trying to steady my breath. I don't know what's waiting for me at Justin's house, but I can't help but feel that this pendant, this tiny sliver of my fae heritage, might be the only thing standing between me and whatever is out there—lurking in the shadows, waiting for me to slip.

With a shaky breath, I pick it up and slip it into my pocket, its weight pressing against my side like a silent reminder that no matter how much I want to pretend everything's normal… it's not.

And it never will be again.

*********

The afternoon sun hangs low in the sky as I walk up the winding road toward Justin's house. Each step feels heavier than the last, as if the very air around me is thickening, pressing in on me from all sides. I take a deep breath, trying to shake the growing sense of unease, but it clings to me, stubborn and unrelenting.

The pendant in my pocket feels heavier, too—its cool weight pressing against my thigh with each step. I can't stop thinking about it, about the strange pulse of energy I felt earlier. It's like it knows something I don't, like it's part of a larger picture that's just out of focus. But instead of bringing clarity, it only seems to deepen the mystery.

As I get closer to Justin's house, the familiar tension builds in my chest. The house looms at the end of the road, its silhouette dark against the pale sky. The memory of the first time I stood in front of it—the creeping dread, the way the air felt wrong—comes flooding back. My instincts scream at me to turn around, to go home, to forget about the paper and forget about Justin.

But I can't. I agreed to this. I can't back out now.

I try to remind myself that this is just a house. It's just a building, bricks and wood and windows. But there's something about it, something beneath the surface, that feels… alive. Like it's watching me. Waiting for me. And Justin—there's something about him, too. Something that makes me feel like I'm being pulled in two different directions, torn between trusting him and fearing him.

My fingers brush against the pendant in my pocket as I walk up the driveway, the pulse of energy a soft, rhythmic hum beneath my skin. It's almost comforting now, a steady reminder that I'm not completely defenseless against whatever might be waiting inside that house.

But the comfort is fleeting. Because what if the pendant isn't just protecting me? What if it's drawing me deeper into this world I barely understand? What if by wearing it, I'm inviting more danger into my life, opening myself up to things I'm not ready to face?

I swallow hard as I reach the front steps. My heart pounds in my chest, the sound loud in my ears. I'm not ready for this. For any of it. But I can't turn back now. I've already made my choice.

Before I can second-guess myself, the door swings open, and there he is—Justin, standing in the doorway. My breath catches in my throat. He's shirtless, his lean muscles catching the fading sunlight, casting soft shadows across his chest and arms. For a second, I can't tear my eyes away. The pull I've been feeling—this strange magnetic draw—intensifies, and for a moment, I forget about the house, the pendant, everything.

He clears his throat, snapping me out of my daze. "Hey," he says, his voice casual, but there's a glint in his eyes.

Heat floods my face as I realize I've been staring. I quickly avert my gaze, my heart pounding even harder now, though for entirely different reasons. "Hey," I manage to say, my voice smaller than I intended.

Justin steps back, opening the door wider to let me in, his expression unreadable. "Come on in," he says, but there's something in the air between us, something thick with unspoken tension.

I nod, forcing my legs to move as I step inside. The house feels heavier, the air thick like it's pressing down on me. My nerves are frayed, every instinct screaming that this isn't just about finishing a paper. But my mind keeps wandering back to Justin—his proximity, the warmth radiating from his skin, and the way my body responded to seeing him like that. I try to shake it off, but the pull between us lingers, stronger than ever.

The pendant hums softly in my pocket, its pulse synchronized with the racing of my heart, and I can't help but wonder if it's reacting to him—to us.

He shuts the door behind me, and the click of the lock seems louder than it should be, like a subtle reminder that there's no turning back now.

Justin steps aside, letting me into the house. The moment I cross the threshold, the air feels heavier—thicker, like something is pressing down on me. It's subtle at first, but as I step further inside, the sensation grows stronger, settling into my chest like a weight I can't shake.

The inside of the house is nothing like I expected. From the outside, it seemed imposing and cold, but here… it's stunning. The dark wood paneling gleams, polished and rich, and the furniture looks like it's been carefully chosen, each piece fitting perfectly into the space. The soft, warm glow from the lights makes everything feel intimate, cozy even, and I'm momentarily disarmed by how welcoming it all seems.

But then, I notice the pictures. They're everywhere. Lining the walls, perched on shelves, scattered across side tables. Old, faded photographs in ornate frames, each one filled with faces that seem… familiar, somehow. There's something about them that I can't quite place—something that makes my skin prickle. The people in the photos, the men and women all look the same. A chill runs down my spine.

I wonder if the house has always been in Justin's family. It feels ancient, like it's holding secrets in its very walls.

"Are you okay?" Justin's voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

I glance at him, and for a moment, I hesitate. There's something in his eyes, something unreadable. I nod quickly. "Yeah. Just… taking it all in."

He tilts his head slightly, like he doesn't quite believe me, but he doesn't push it. "I'll be right back," he says, motioning toward a hallway. "I should probably put a shirt on."

As soon as he disappears, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. I glance around again, my gaze lingering on the photos, the old furniture, the way the air feels almost alive in this house. It's beautiful, yes, but there's something beneath the surface, something that makes my nerves buzz. I don't know what it is, but I can feel it, like a low hum just out of reach.

My fingers brush against the pendant in my pocket, and for a moment, I wonder if it's reacting to the house, to whatever secrets lie hidden here. The thought makes my stomach twist.

Before I can dwell on it any longer, Justin reappears, pulling a shirt over his head as he walks back into the room. I glance up, catching the way the fabric clings to his chest before I quickly look away, heat rising to my cheeks.

"Better?" he asks, his lips quirking into a half-smile.

"Much," I say, though my voice comes out more breathy than I'd like.

We sit down at the dining table, and for a while, we manage to focus on the paper. Or at least, Justin does. I try, but my mind keeps wandering, distracted by the house, by the photos, by the way Justin's presence makes me feel like I'm teetering on the edge of something I can't quite name.

The tension between us is thick, almost palpable. Every time our hands brush while reaching for a pen or a book, a shiver runs down my spine, and I can't help but notice the way his gaze lingers on me, like he's waiting for me to say something, to admit something I'm not even sure of myself.

"Are you sure everything is okay?" he asks at one point, his voice low, his eyes searching mine.

I force a smile, hoping he doesn't see through it. "Yeah, just… a lot on my mind."

"More than just the paper?"

There's something in his tone—something that makes a fluttering go off in my stomach. He rises to my cheeks and I clear my throat. 

"Yes. Nothing important though." I give him a reassuring smile and go back to working.

As we continue working, I start to notice the pendant in my pocket starts to hum. It's faint at first, barely noticeable, but as the minutes pass, the pulse of energy grows stronger, and I can feel it spreading through me, like a current running just beneath my skin.

"Sarah?"

Justin's voice cuts through the fog in my mind, and I blink, realizing I've been staring at the table, my fingers trembling slightly. I look up at him, and the way he's watching me sends a chill down my spine. His expression is calm, but there's something in his eyes—something that makes me think he knows.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asks again, his voice softer this time, more insistent.

I open my mouth to say yes, to brush it off like I have been all afternoon, but the words catch in my throat. The hum from the pendant grows stronger, almost overwhelming now, and I feel my control slipping. My fingers twitch, and a faint shimmer of light passes through the air between us—so quick and subtle I almost think I imagined it.

But I didn't. Justin saw it too. I can tell by the way his gaze sharpens, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watches me.

"You're… different today," he says slowly, his voice careful, as if he's testing the waters. "Is something going on?"

Panic surges through me, my pulse racing. He knows. Or at least, he suspects. But how? And what does he mean by 'different'?

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say quickly, standing up from the table. My hands are shaking now, my magic buzzing just beneath the surface, threatening to spill over. I need to get out of here. I need to calm down before I lose control.

But Justin doesn't look convinced. He stands too, his movements slow, deliberate. "Sarah," he says, and the way he says my name makes my heart skip a beat. There's something in his voice, something that feels like a warning.

I take a step back, my breath coming in shallow gasps. "I— I need some air."

Before he can stop me, I turn and head toward the door, my mind racing, the buzzing in my veins getting stronger. My fingers brush against the pendant again, and I swear I feel it pulse, almost like it's warning me of something just ahead.

But as I reach for the door handle, it swings open, and I stumble straight into Natalia.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't see—" I start to apologize, but my words trail off when I see who's with her.

Justin's parents stand just behind her, their expressions unreadable. For a split second, I catch the briefest flicker of something—recognition, maybe? Or suspicion?—in his mother's eyes as she looks at me, her gaze lingering where the pendant is in my pocket.

There's a thick, charged silence, and I can feel the weight of their stares pressing down on me. My magic surges again, dangerously close to slipping out of my control. I clench my fists at my sides, trying to hold it together, but I can feel it—the pulse of energy, the pull of the pendant, and the tension simmering between all of us.

"I was just… heading out for some air," I manage to say, my voice shaky.

Justin's father steps forward, his gaze shifting between me and Justin. "No need to rush off," he says smoothly, though there's an edge to his voice. "Why don't you stay for dinner?"

My stomach twists, and I glance at Justin, hoping for some kind of cue, some sign that this isn't as strange as it feels. But he doesn't say anything, just watches me with that same intense, unreadable look.

Natalia steps aside, giving me a small, knowing smile. "Stay," she says softly. "We'd love to have you."

The way she says it makes my skin prickle, and I know, without a doubt, that leaving isn't going to be as easy as I thought.

*****

The inside of the house is nothing like I expected. From the outside, it seemed imposing and cold, but here… it's stunning. The dark wood paneling gleams, polished and rich, and the furniture looks like it's been carefully chosen, each piece fitting perfectly into the space. The soft, warm glow from the lights makes everything feel intimate, cozy even, and I'm momentarily disarmed by how welcoming it all seems.

Justin's mother glances at me, a slight smile softening her eyes. "It's lovely to have someone over. The house has felt different lately. Like there's… energy stirring."

"Like it's waking up somehow," Justin's father adds, his gaze sharp and curious as he studies me, his words resonating in a way that makes the hairs on the back of my neck prickle.

I feel a faint tingling along my skin and instinctively lower my hand to my pocket, where the pendant rests. As I look up, I catch Justin's parents watching me, their eyes a little too intent. I wonder if that's what they're sensing—a spark of energy from the pendant, radiating faintly. But that would be impossible… wouldn't it?

"You're right," I say softly, trying to keep my tone light. "The place has a really… unique feel."

Justin's parents exchange a quick, knowing glance, as if they're sharing an unspoken understanding, something I'm not part of. The weight of it makes me more uneasy. I sneak a glance at Justin, but he's avoiding my gaze, as if deep in thought. For a split second, I wonder if he knows something about the pendant—about me—that he isn't telling me.

Justin's father gives a low chuckle. "Ah, unique indeed," he says, his eyes drifting to my pocket and lingering for a beat too long. There's a smile on his face, kind, but it doesn't reach his eyes, and I feel the weight of his gaze like a pressure against my chest.

My pulse quickens, and I grip the pendant tighter, feeling a slight warmth spread through my fingertips, almost like a low current running through it. The sensation is subtle, but unmistakable, and it only makes me feel more exposed, like they can sense the magic in it. Or maybe… in me.

Natalia clears her throat, breaking the tension. "So, what brought you here?"

Her voice is sweet, but there's a bite to it, her look steely. "Justin and I needed to work on our paper," I reply, trying to keep my tone casual. "He couldn't meet me at the library, so he invited me here."

Natalia's gaze flits between Justin and me, her jaw tightening as though she's swallowing back something bitter. "I see." Her tone implies the opposite.

A flashback of her warning the other night plays in my mind: "Be careful, Sarah. Sometimes, when you dig too deep, you find things you're not ready for."

"Well, dear, you're welcome anytime. Having you here has definitely brought life back into our home." Justin's mother smiles, her warmth radiating across the table, snapping me back to the present. But as she watches me, her gaze sharpens, the kind that makes you feel like someone is trying to look straight through you.

"Yes, Scarlet's right. You're different than what we expected." Justin's father's smile fades, his jaw clenching almost imperceptibly after he speaks.

Justin clears his throat, breaking the spell. "I'll walk you out, Sarah."

As we stand, every nerve in my body feels charged, each step to the door weighted with questions I'm too afraid to ask. I give his parents a polite nod, doing my best to mask my unease, but as we step outside, I can still feel Justin's father's gaze following me, his eyes lingering a little too long on my pocket.

Outside, Justin walks me down the steps, his hand lightly pressing against my lower back. "Everything alright?" he asks, his voice soft, his eyes searching mine.

I force a small smile. "Yeah, just… taking it all in."

"Okay. Well, thanks for coming over. I know things got a little weird. I'm sorry about my parents… they're…" His voice trails off, like he's weighing his next words. There's a hesitation in his eyes, a reluctance that makes me think he's holding something back. "They're… different," he finishes, though he looks like he wants to say more.

I don't press him. "It's okay," I say, forcing a brighter smile than I feel. "Tell them I said thank you for dinner. I'll see you tomorrow."

Justin nods, offering me a small smile before walking back up the steps and into the house.

As I turn to walk away, the pendant in my pocket begins to hum faintly, the same low vibration I'd felt before, a pulsing warmth that seems to sync with my heartbeat. My steps falter, and I glance back at the house, half-expecting to see Justin or one of his family members watching me from a window. The shadows seem to deepen, stretching out as though reaching for me, and a chill crawls down my spine.

I grip the pendant tightly, its heat intensifying in my palm as if it's alive, as if it's warning me. Or calling me back.

I shake off the feeling and force myself to keep walking, my heart hammering as the last lingering glances from Justin's family echo in my mind. I can't shake the feeling that they know something—something about me, about the pendant, maybe even more than I do.