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I couldn’t look at that countertop the same way anymore. I glared at it as my eggs fried in the pan, my own pathetic whimpers echoing in my ears. Goddamn it, he’d made me desperate. He’d forced me to make sounds I didn’t even think I was capable of. Guns weren’t toys, but Christ, he’d had me so horny I’d fucked myself on my own weapon. At least he’d been just as desperate, at least he’d given in first. The satisfaction I’d felt when he —
I hurriedly turned off the stove, having nearly burned the eggs. I swore furiously, but I still plated them beside my toast. I wasn’t going to waste perfectly edible food.
I’d genuinely thought that, once our deal was made, Zane would be like a genie in a lamp and vanish until I needed him. It had been an outrageously naive belief. Now that we were bound, our bargain sealed in blood and cum, I couldn’t get away from him.
I didn’t think I wanted to.
Something else I’d learned in the years spent struggling to survive was to always appear confident, even when I knew I was fucked. If I clung hard enough to false bravado, it might just get me through another day.
So as we drove toward White Pine, the sunlight falling in shafts through the clouds, my spirits were high. My adrenaline was pumping, anticipation made my fingers tap rapidly against the door. I had my pistol strapped to my hip, my shotgun on my back, my knife at my ankle, and a demon on my side.
This wouldn’t be like it was before. I was older. Stronger. I wasn’t helpless.
We drove deep into the forest. The trees were draped in vines, ferns clustered around their roots, creating a wall of vibrant green on either side. Zane kept the radio turned up loud, playing KennyHoopla as we drove, and I moved my head along with it.
I tried to think only of what would come after we were done. I would bury Marcus up at Dad’s cabin, in the yard, where we’d spent so many weekends playing together as kids. It was isolated and quiet. If Kent’s demon came around for his body again, I doubted he would look there.
But as we pulled off the asphalt onto the narrow dirt road that wound back into the trees, my anticipation soured. My stomach was knotted, and there was a weight on my chest, making it difficult to breathe. The road ended at a metal gate with a rustedNo Trespassingsign.
Zane turned off the engine. “You good?” I nodded. “Don’t lie, Juniper.”
“I’m fine.” I kept my voice clipped and short. I jerked open the car door and slammed it behind me, leaning against it. I’d be fine. I could get through this. I took a few deep breaths, inhaling the crisp, fresh air, but buried beneath the pungent scent of pine was something else. Something sickly and rotten.
It had been here —right here— where Victoria and I had dropped acid all those years ago. I’d laid in this grass and stared at the boughs above. I’d wandered through these woods as Victoria led me by the hand.
St. Thaddeus cathedral was beyond the fence, hidden behind the trees. I hadn’t been back here since. When doctors had tried to persuade me to go back to the church so I could see it was empty, I’d refused. It didn’t matter if the church was no longer filled with white-cloaked cult members. It didn’t matter if no evidence could be found of what had happened there.
That church was never empty. It was full of memories, full of pain.
“Juniper.”
I jerked my head around, but Zane wasn’t even out of the car yet. I guess he’d decided to give me a few moments of space. The wind rustled through the trees, the crisp autumn leaves shaking. I frowned. If Zane hadn’t spoken, then…
“Juniper.”
The clouds moved over the sun, casting me into shadow, and a chill went up my back. I turned slowly, scanning the trees. The greenery was so deep and bright. Every inch of ground was covered with flora, and all around me, the woods seemed to breathe. The wind, the bird song, the creaking boughs…
My grandfather’s warning echoed in my head: “If you hear your name called from the woods, run.”
The Deep One knew I was here.
I jumped as the car door opened. Zane laid his hands on the roof, watching me expectantly. “Let’s try again. You good?”
Confidence. Always be confident. “Yeah. Completely fine.” He tweaked an eyebrow slowly. “I’mfine. Come on, we’re wasting daylight. Let’s get up to the shaft.”
I led the way, even though every step felt heavier than the last. The trail into the forest was narrow, barely big enough for one person to walk along. I carried only my weapons, plus a small pack with climbing supplies: a harness, ropes, hooks. I’d climbed out of the mine without them before, but it was nothing short of a miracle I’d managed it.
Every fiber of my being was repulsed by this place, every step was a fight against my own frantic desire to turn back. Part of me knew this was foolish: Marcus was dead. Regardless of where his body lay, his life wasn’t coming back. But I’d been in the mine before, I’d been in the dark. The horror of that place would never leave my mind, and the thought of leaving my own brother down there was unbearable. It didn’t feel right.
It grew colder as more clouds gathered overhead, and it looked unlikely we’d be spared from rain for much longer. My hands were gripped tight around my backpack’s straps, my jaw clenched so hard it ached. Parts of the trail were overgrown, and I had to stomp my way through bushes and intruding vines.
The path forked, and I paused. I stretched my tingling fingertips in an effort to get some feeling back into them. To the right, the path sloped down and widened toward the cathedral. Uphill, to the left…
I closed my eyes. There was roaring in my ears like distant waves, but amongst the roaring, there was thesilence. That terrible, suffocating silence of being underground with just the slow, distant drip of water.
“Don’t get lost, little wolf.”
I opened my eyes. Zane was right behind me, only inches away. He hadn’t touched me, but there was the sensation of a hand gripping the back of my neck. Instead of being menacing, it was grounding, almost comforting.
