The Harkma blood would just not let him leave.
For three days, Matt tried to move deeper into the territory. For three days, the invisible compass in his chest pulled him back toward Edward's house—toward the basement, toward the circle, toward something he couldn't name. He would walk west, and the pull would drag him east. He would try to circle around, and the pull would tighten like a fist around his heart.
On the second day, Yvonne had noticed.
"You're fighting something," she said. They were sitting on a fallen log at the edge of a stream, the water cold and clear, the forest silent around them. "Something tells me there's a conflict going on within you, and you're running from it."
"I'm not running." Matt stared at his reflection in the water. His eyes looked tired. Haunted. "I just don't understand what it wants."
"Maybe you're not supposed to understand. Maybe you're just supposed to follow your heart."
