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THIRTEEN
Decima
The cool morningair whipped across my cheeks as I loped along the sidewalk. I sucked it into my lungs, letting the freshness of the breeze wash through me.
Now that we’d spent a while in the house where we’d shacked up during our extended visit to the DC area, I had a regular routine—when I didn’t get diverted by any other responsibilities, at least. I’d always loved running to clear my mind, and the freedom of being able to stretch my legs in the open air rather than staying in place on a treadmill was exhilarating. I had a three-mile circuit I’d established along quiet residential roads where I could almost always count on having an open path.
Even though the route was familiar and I’d never encountered any trouble on it before, I stayed cautious. My gaze skimmed over my surroundings, watching for any threat. The Blood Hunter had to be angry—let’s be real, most likely furious—about the ways my crew had interfered with his operations in the past week. It was only a matter of time before he retaliated one way or another.
But this early in the morning, most people were still in bed or, at best, puttering around putting their breakfasts together. Only a few cars rumbled past me, early birds heading to work. A woman weeding her front garden tipped her head to me, and I nodded back as if I were just another regular neighbor out for a jog. It was kind of freeing to pretend I was one of those regular people, even if I couldn’t imagine enjoying such a mundane life.
My heart thumped in a fast but steady rhythm. My thoughts flowed through my mind in time with the pounding of my feet on the pavement. For this brief span of time, nothing really mattered except—
A shout broke the peaceful atmosphere. Then another, a pained cry for help.
My head jerked around. The sound was coming from around the bend where I usually turned the corner. I pushed my legs to a sprint, all my senses on high alert.
Rounding the corner, I spotted the problem immediately. Gangly legs with bright sneakers that immediately made me thinkteenagersquirmed where the rest of the figure was trapped under a ride-on lawn mower. Somehow the guy had ended up wedged between the two sets of wheels. The machine didn’t sound as if it were on, thank God, or he’d have been sliced to bits.
I should have wondered how anyone could have ended up in that situation. Maybe if I’d looked closer before rushing in, I’d have noticed some telling detail that would have tipped me off that this wasn’t a simple accident. But as much as I was a killer, I also had a strong instinct to protect those who needed it. I raced over at top speed, worried that the blades might switch on at any moment. The mower must have been moving when the kid had gotten stuck under it, right?
I dropped down next to the machine and heaved it upward so the kid could pull himself out if he wasn’t too injured. “Are you hurt?” I asked, just as my gaze jerked to the face of a teenage boy… who was definitely not hurt at all. He was shoving upright as if he’d never really been trapped in the first place. And his defiantly triumphant face was one I knew.
“Carter?” I sputtered, yanking myself backward, away from my brother—but it was a split-second too late. Carter had already jabbed a syringe into my thigh, the needle piercing right through my sweatpants and into the muscle.
I still tried to scramble away, but a rush of dizziness swept over me, followed by a prickling darkness that closed around my mind. My last thought before I slumped over and the whole world went black was that I might have just discovered one way that the Maliks had captured their many victims.
And nowIwas one of those victims.
* * *
The first sensation I noticed upon waking was the painful crick in my neck and shoulders. I dragged in a deep breath and moved to stretch, and a bite at my wrists stopped my movement. They were trapped behind my back—bound tightly.
My eyes popped open despite the heaviness weighing down my head. My last memory flooded my mind—Carter, the setup with the lawn mower, the syringe.
I was lying on my side on a rug, the smell of leather and old paper filling my nose. Whatever drug Carter had injected me with was still hazing my senses, making it difficult for me to concentrate, but recognition sparked in my mind.
The secret basement study in the Malik family home—that’s where I was. Surrounded by the evidence of the murders they’d carried out: the records of dates and deaths, the photo of the country house where they carried out their rituals… and all the strange objects I’d noticed during my first exploration here. A child’s shoe, a toy, a hairclip—it made a sick kind of sense now.
Those had to be mementos from their victims.
They weren’t getting anything like that from me.
As I flexed the muscles in my arms to test my restraints, a voice reached me from behind. “She’s awake.”
It was Grandma Ruby. I guessed that was no surprise. Carter wouldn’t have been acting of his own accord. He’d simply been the family member left who’d been most able to carry out a plan that relied on quick physical action.
I kept my ears perked, trying to get a sense of my grandmother’s position in the room as I subtly tugged at the cord wrapped around my wrists. It was tight, but I’d gotten out of jams worse than this before. These people were used to tying up children who didn’t have a fraction of my strength or skill. If I could just focus better, I’d be able to work the bindings loose with little twitches and minute movements right under my captors’ noses.
If they didn’t murdermebefore I had the chance to complete my escape, that was.
Footsteps rasped across the floor. Three figures came into view in front of me, making me crane my neck to see their looming faces. Ruby, Carter, and my mother.
“Is this your way of proving that you’re not criminals?” I asked, my voice coming out with a bit of a croak. “Because I’m pretty sure kidnapping is against the law.”
“You’ve been corrupted by evil-doers,” Iris said, her face as sallow as it’d been when I’d come by to ask about the Blood Hunter. “Brainwashed into something as evil as they are. We have to help you.”
Ruby snorted. “If she can be helped. She was in their hands for more than twenty years. I think she’s rot all the way through by now.”
