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No.
Lies.
I’m not.
Lies, lies, lies.
Darien sighed, letting the necklace fall out of his mouth. Fine. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. Let’s go, tough dog.
He walked across the lawn, Bandit trotting at his side. Dry grass crunched beneath boots and paws. Darien forced his legs to keep moving as he walked up the front steps, the old porch echoing hollowly.
Although he’d felt apprehensive seconds ago, there was no fear in his heart as he pushed open the screen door, the squeak of the hinges traveling far. He’d been here plenty of times; the demon knew him as well as any friend. He’d lived to tell of his time in this place, and he would live to tell of it again. As long as he didn’t allow himself to feel afraid, there was nothing to fear.
Blinking his Sight into his vision, he stepped inside. Bandit was just as alert as Darien, ears twitching, paws entirely silent on the floor.
Darien knew exactly where to go. All the victims were killed in the same room, and their belongings remained there forever after the creature was finished consuming them. There would be a lot to sift through, but if he moved quickly it wouldn’t take too long. After what’d happened at the Chopping Block, the warlock poisoning himself before he could give them any further information, this was his best and least risky option for finding answers.
In the dark, wide open room, there was a peculiar feeling of emptiness, almost like the monster wasn’t here. Darien decided it was best not to think about it as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small flashlight. He clicked it on and eased himself into a crouch among the belongings of dead people, using his hand to dull the light. Monsters of all kinds hated light and heat. The beam glowed through his fingers like a fiery sunset.
The three hours that passed felt more like a thousand, but then, finally, Darien found the lost half of the Dominus Volumen. He had been banking on the chance that Randal was carrying it on his person the day he’d walked in here, and Darien was pleased to see that he was right. This should help the others gather more information on not just aura magic, but also the Veil.
He was about to stand when a familiar sight caught his eye. He shuffled closer, nudging an old book out of the way, and picked up a fine golden chain from where it was resting under an article of clothing, part of the chain draping into a crack between floorboards. Attached to the chain was a wedding ring.
Darien’s eyelids slipped shut. His heart gave a thud that hurt like a knife wound. It took him several minutes before he could look at the ring again, several minutes before he could breathe without feeling like he was choking.
Bandit, Darien said down his Spirit Bond. Bandit, it’s Mom’s ring.
Although his parents’ marriage had ended badly, his mother had picked this ring out herself from the Jewelry District. It was her style, chosen by a young woman who’d fallen hopelessly in love and had carried her excitement for the future as carefully as she’d carried the diamond on her finger. Darien had wanted this ring since the moment his mother died, but Randal had told him he’d sold it. All these years, and Darien hadn’t a clue that his father had worn it around his neck. All these years, and the ring had been hiding in plain sight.
Darien kissed the diamond before putting it deep in the pocket of his leather jacket, along with the scroll. He zipped that pocket shut—
CLANG! Clatter.
Darien spun around, the golden beam from the flashlight bouncing.
That was when he realized Bandit was no longer beside him.
Bandit? Darien called. Slowly, he rose to his feet. That feeling of emptiness was gone, the air heavy with an eerie presence.
Something was watching.
Bandit, he said again.
He took a step, trying his damn best not to make any excess noise, as he looked for his Familiar. He used his Sight, eager to get out of here, and saw Bandit lying flat on his belly under a tattered couch near the wall. He was trembling so hard, Darien could see it from this far away.
A sick feeling twisted in Darien’s stomach. Whenever Bandit reacted this way, he had a damn good reason for doing so.
It felt like it took a million years to get across the room to the couch. He ignored the feeling of eyes tracking his every step as he walked, and when he reached the piece of furniture that was dark with mold, he put the flashlight in his pocket and lowered himself to the floor, stooping his head low so he could see Bandit.
Eyes glowed from under the couch, but the Familiar didn’t move. In fact, he inched back.
Bandit, Darien said, biting his tongue before he could make the mistake of saying it out loud. He waved a hand. Let’s go.
Bandit’s ears flattened to his head. He shrank farther back, his eyes flicking to something over Darien’s shoulder.
Darien’s blood turned to ice. He was frozen in place, and he knew in that moment that the creature looming behind him was not the one he’d met last time, not the demon who’d killed Randal and his men.
There was a shift in the air. A shadowy claw reaching for his back.
