She led us through the dark trail without delay. Cold air cut our cheeks as we made our way back to the house. December kept glancing at me and the truck, making sure we were still behind them.
Once we got to the house, December nearly fell off the horse, springing into action as she started to the RV. “Grab a couple of things for you and Wilson. We all have to stay in town tonight.”
Octavia didn’t offer a protest. She tied up the horses and disappeared into the house. I followed her trail, cold sweat dotting my lower back.
“Could you grab a few blankets from the living room?” Octavia asked. “I’m going to get some clothes.”
The scent of warm dinner lingered in the air. Normalcy smelled of soup and garlic bread. The side of potatoes was most likely cold to the touch. The teapot filled to the brim with lukewarm water.
“No,” I said sternly. “You’re not leaving my sight.”
“This would go faster if you helped,” she murmured, but didn’t put any force behind the comment.
Octavia yanked open the first drawer she got her hands on and pointed to the closet. “Grab the small duffel out of there?”
I opened the door, rummaging through a few boxes. One of them knocked over a photo album, spitting out Polaroids. They weren’t the glossy, commercialized K-pop ones I’d seen before. But snapshots of a man with sad eyes and brown skin holding a little Octavia on his shoulder. She wore pigtails in her then-loose natural hair. What looked to be Octavia’s parents stood on either side of them. Another photo showed her sitting at the base of a fence; she was older in this one and looked as if someone had scolded her just before the photographer snapped the shot. Behind her was a peach tree almost as large and healthy as the one we’d seen on the edge of the road.
“Did you find it?” Octavia asked.
“Almost.” I stuffed the photos back in their place before refocusing on the task at hand. The image of a young Octavia, just as dejected as the one in front of me, pricked needles into my chest.
When I resurfaced with the duffel, Octavia immediately tossed clothes inside before moving to the bathroom. I followed her there too, keeping an eye on the mirror as cautiously as she did.
“Hey,” I murmured when our gazes met in the reflection.
She shook her head and grabbed toiletries from the sink. “Don’t ask me because I’m not.”
I frowned. “I wasn’t going to ask.”
Anare you okaywas useless at a time like this.
“Good.” Octavia sighed. “Nice to know you’re tolerable in a crisis.”
“And nice to see you’re still intolerant of nonsense.”
The corners of her lips twitched. She went quiet for a moment, considering before she said, “I’m glad you’re here. Glad I didn’t take some other hunter’s card at that convention.”
“Yeah?” Amid the weighty dark, there was a glimpse of feathery light.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to repay you…but I suppose your hefty commission price will do.”
That pulled a low laugh out of me. Octavia smiled at me in the mirror. The amusement didn’t reach her eyes, but I could appreciate the attempt. I ached to step closer and pull her into my chest, becoming the fortified wall she needed for protection.
“Next steps?”December scrubbed her hands at the sink with rosemary soap, ridding herself of dirt and any lingering evidence of coming within spitting distance of the demon.
We were in the RV, driving behind Octavia’s truck onthe road into town. Frog and Kat were secured inside the horse trailer that Octavia’s truck towed.
“Call in the adults,” Nico said, not a sarcastic bone in sight. He sat in the passenger’s seat, gaze as empty as the quiet Jonah who gripped the steering wheel.
I scrolled on my laptop, logged into the Guild’s database using my oldest sister, Dawn’s, credentials. She had the highest clearance and the shortest memory. Years ago, she’d asked me to log in to her user for a quick search and hadn’t changed the simple birthdate passcode since.
“Just give me a second. Let me see if I can find something first,” I murmured as I scanned for folders littered with a lot of maybes, what-ifs, and cold cases.
“Why were we off?” Jonah asked, his voice hard around the edges. “We got everything on the checklist.”
“Demons don’t follow checklists.” I picked at my lower lip. “The theory is they mimic the signs of spirits for fun.”
“Fun?” Jonah coughed out, confused.
