Her gaze met mine and then skittered away. She shrugged. “Of course.”

Huh. “Or…maybe you’re not aware of it?”

She shrugged again, and I couldn’t believe she didn’t see what I… Wait a second. She didn’t see what I saw? When had what I saw changed? Because I’d been thinking she was plain as hell. Sometimes above average when she was mad. Or smiling. Or blushing. But, well, mainly she was just average.

As I watched her cheeks pink up even more, I knew I’d been wrong.

Kat wasn’t plain. Maybe at first glance, but once you got up close to her, once you spent any amount of time around her, those heather gray eyes, the full lips, and the shape of her face were anything but plain. It ran deeper than the skin, though.

“You know what I’ve always believed?” I asked, stopping in the middle of the path.

She looked up at me, her eyes wide but not wary. “No.”

For a moment, I didn’t speak, and the only sound between us was the chirping of nearby birds as my gaze searched hers. “I’ve always found that the most beautiful people, truly beautiful inside and out, are the ones who are quietly unaware of their effect. The ones who throw their beauty around, waste what they have? Their beauty is only passing. It’s just a shell hiding nothing but shadows and emptiness.”

Her lips parted, and then she laughed.

Kat laughed.

What in the hell?

“I’m sorry,” she said, blinking back tears as a giggle snuck free. “But that was the most thoughtful thing I’ve ever heard you say. What alien ship took the Daemon I know away, and can I ask them to keep him?”

I scowled. “I was being honest.”

“I know, but it’s just that was really…wow.”

Eyeing her, I shrugged and then started down the trail again. Whatever. “We won’t go too far.” I paused. “So you’re interested in history?”

“Yeah, I know that makes me a nerd.” She caught up to me, an extra bounce in her steps.

“Did you know this land was once traveled by the Seneca Indians?”

“Please tell me we aren’t walking on any burial grounds?”

“Well…I’m sure there are burial grounds around here somewhere. Even though they just traveled through this area, it’s not a stretch that some died on this very spot and—”

“Daemon, I don’t need to know that part.” She lightly pushed my arm.

The ease with which she touched me was unnerving. It took me a moment to get past that.

“Okay, I’ll tell you the story and I’ll leave some of the more creepy but natural facts out.” I grabbed a long branch, holding it back for Kat to duck under. Her shoulder brushed my chest, kicking around my sense of awareness.

“What story?” she asked, thick lashes lowered, shielding her eyes.

“You’ll see. Now pay attention… A long time ago, this land was forest and hills, which isn’t too different than today with the exception of a few small towns.” I pushed the lower branches out of the way for her. At this point, she might impale herself; she was so obscenely unaware of how to walk in the woods. “But imagine this place so sparsely populated that it could take days, even weeks, before you reached your nearest neighbor.”

She shivered. “That seems so lonely.”

“But you have to understand that was the way of life hundreds of years ago. Farmers and mountain men lived a few miles away from one another, but the distance was all traveled by foot or horse. It wasn’t usually the safest way to travel.”

“I can imagine.” Her response was faint.

“The Seneca Indian tribe traveled through the eastern part of the United States, and at some point, they walked this very path toward the Seneca Rocks.” Our gazes glanced off each other. “Did you know that this very small path behind your house leads right to the base of them?”

“No. They always seem so far off in the distance, I never thought of them as being that close.”

“If you stayed on this path for a couple of miles, you’d find yourself at the base of them. It’s a pretty rocky patch even the most experienced rock climbers stay away from. See, the Seneca Rocks spread from Grant to Pendleton County, with the highest point being Spruce Knob and an outcropping near Seneca called Champe Rocks. Now they are kind of hard to get to, since it usually involves invading someone’s property, but it can be worth it if you can scale way beyond nine hundred feet in the sky.”

Man, I loved getting up there. Hadn’t done it in a while.

“That sounds like fun.” Her smile was pained.

I laughed. “It is if you’re not afraid of slipping. Anyway, the Seneca Rocks are made out of quartzite, which is part sandstone. That’s why it sometimes has a pinkish tint to it. Quartzite is considered a beta quartz. People who believe in…” Hmm, had to proceed carefully. “Abnormal powers or powers in…nature, as a lot of Indian tribes did at one time, believe that any form of beta quartz allows energy to be stored and transformed, even manipulated by it. It can throw off electronics and other stuff, too—hide things.”

“Ooo-kay.”

I shot her a look and she quieted. “Possibly the beta quartz drew the Seneca Tribe to this area. No one knows, since they weren’t native to West Virginia. No one knows how long any of them camped here, traded, or made war.” I slowed my steps, nearing the small stream. “But they do have a very romantic legend.”

“Romantic?” She followed me around the stream, her ponytail bouncing with each step. It was sort of distracting.




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