Prologue
“RUN,” A BOOMING voiceroared. “And never look back!”
She listened and raced through the torch-lit tunnel. Navigated blackened roots easily despite her flowing red dress. The air smelled of fire and brimstone. Death and decay.
“Go,” the voice roared again, shaking the ground. “Get away before ‘tis too late!”
Too late for what? Who pursued her? What lay ahead? Yet she knew. A monster behind her. Sanctity somewhere beyond.
“Run,” the voice behind her echoed, his voice not ferocious now but desperate. “Run before I catch up with ye, lass.”
Like always, she ran, terrified, praying she made it. Hoped God listened. That the devil didn’t catch up with her, and she made it out safely. Because she always did. Every single time into the arms of someone else. Someone she trusted.
Until now.
“No.” She skidded to a halt and shook her head. “Notthis time.”
She wasn’t sure why, either. Just that she needed to face this.Him. Whatever he was. She took in the small stone chamber with nothing but an ornate red chair and a sizable window leading to a golden woodland path. Usually, she crawled out that window. Felt the cool air on her face. Relished the chance at survival.
“Go,” the booming voice roared, growing closer.
Too close.
Terrifyingly close.
For the first time since she’d started having this nightmare years ago, she really took in the chair by her side. Its plush crimson velvet padding. Trailed her fingers over its cool, intricately designed wood. It felt familiar somehow. Like she had touched it before.
Like it gave her strength.
“I won’t run,” she ground out. “Not anymore.”
Determined to face Satan head-on this time, she closed her eyes and clenched her fists. Fought terror. Faced her worst nightmare when she turned around and opened her eyes.
“I won’t go,” she vowed at what chased her through the darkness. What had always chased her even as he told her to flee.
He wasn’t here yet, but he was coming.
Close. So very close.
Fire sizzled like pinpricks in the darkness. Cloying smoke rolled into the chamber in eerie tendrils. Her heart slammed into her throat. Sweat broke out on her brow.
Close.
Closer.
His golden cat-like eyes appeared in the darkness. Looked straight at her. His pupils flared in warning. He was going to end her. He couldn’t help himself.
And she was ready for it.
Ready for whatever he threw at her.
Or so she tried to convince herself when her knees grew weak, and terror made it impossible to draw in air. Yet she was facing him.Doingthis. So instead of trembling in fear, she raced headfirst into what she knew was coming.
All-consuming flames.
Hell’s fire.
Without a shred of doubt, certain death.
