I snapped my fingers so Nico would focus on me and not take in the furious sneer Octavia threw our way. “Doesn’t matter; don’t listen to it. Daylan left because he said if she can’t get it out, he’s of no use. I don’t think there’s a tried-and-true way. He got it out because he fought.”
So, Octavia would have to do the same. She’d let it in so she could figure out how to let it out. She was afighter.
“Can you read this?” Nico pointed at the words on the planks. “Or should I?”
“If you lose,” it said, voice lowered. “You’ll lose big. I promise you, once I figure out how to rip this woman apart, I will. If you don’t let me kill her now, I’ll do worse later.”
My chest nearly caved in. I longed to wring whatever solid body this thing could form until it couldn’t speak, let alone shout threats.
“I can.” I let out a breath. “Just focus on keeping Jonah and December in position. We’ll do it like in the barn. And Octavia will have to take care of the separation."
“That’ll work?” he asked.
“It’s our best shot,” I whispered. “Now, let’s tie these planks together to make sure they’ll hold.”
Nico and I used the extra rope to bind the wood into something that could pass for stable. My hands shook throughout the entire process. I dug my nails into my palm, keeping the nausea from taking over. For a quick practice, I murmured the words on the wood to myself, a taste test of how they’d slide off my tongue.
Once the tying was done, December and Jonah brought Octavia over, sitting her on top of it.
“We’ll get the torches,” December said, and they left for a repeat of our early attempt at entrapment.
“Rae.” Her voice was hoarse from the demon’s taunting. “I don’t know if I'm going to figure out how to…get him…”
I sat down in front of her, pressing my forehead against hers, and whispered, “You can. When it trapped you in here earlier, you let it inside.”
“I didn’t mean to…” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I didn’t…”
“I know.” My throat was so tight I could hardly breathe. I brushed her tears away. “Of course you didn’t.”
“He’s hard to touch. Hard to push against.”
“Then don’t push,” I said. “Find another way to get it out. It got in, so there’s a way out. I know you can do this. You’re the most capable person I know. Please…Octavia, fight. When I start this ritual and lock him inside, it’ll be a prison. I don’t want to lock you in there, too. Wilson needs you. The horses need you. Elmwood needs you. I need you. Now that I’ve found you, please, please don’t leave. Because I promise you, I plan on staying planted right next to you.”
“Rae…”
“Please,” the word caught in my throat. “There’s no tomorrow worth even considering if you won’t be in it.”
Every breath I took at this point was anticipation of being next to her. All I wanted to do was to be next to her. Everything else was so deeply secondary, so far away I could barely make it out in the fog.
“Stay here with me,” I pleaded.
THIRTY-TWO
The field was gone,lost to the night. Every time we switched places to talk, he came back louder and faster. I could barely catch my breath. With hands on my knees and the taste of iron on my tongue, I begged for the world to stop spinning. I only had a few minutes. Rae couldn’t hold off forever.
The cabin was still there. It was close enough that the warmth of the glowing light from the windows kissed my skin.
Rae’s advice threaded through my thoughts: don’t push. There hadn’t been enough time to brainstorm. Hell, I’d hardly had enough time to blink. The longer he stayed facing forward, the more time I had to approach the cabin.
I had let him in with little thought. The process had been almost vampiric. He lingered at the threshold, but the way he asked sounded like the familiar chime of a doorbell. I opened the door to my mind without much thought because I’d done it before. In those nightmares when I didn’t believe in creatures in the shadows, I let the demon in.
You’ll have to trick him to get him back outside.
I scoffed to myself. This would downright be the hardest thing I’d try to do, figuring out how to trick a creature whose whole job was creating deals and writing contracts.
“What’s so funny?” he leaned down, catching my gaze.
“Nothing, I—” He was gone again before I could finish. The air where he’d stood smelled of burning lavender. I lifted my wrist to my nose, smelling the same scent there, too. There were red bumps and scarring along my forearm, multiplying by the second. The ritual was starting.
