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I lowered my face, pressing it back against his chest where he couldn’t see me. The self-deprecating thoughts prodded at me, echoes ofStop crying, you’re weak, you’re pathetic, stop. But his arms, still immoveable, held them back like a wall I didn’t need to build myself. His words were a call-out to the lies that swirled in my head.
He was a demon who had everything he should have wanted from me. He had no reason to say that unless he meant it. It was a kindness that my brain couldn’t twist. And if I couldn’t twist it, I had to accept it.
I had to believe it.
“I’m...I’m sorry.” I only got it out in a whisper, but I still managed it.
“For what?”
“He’s your friend,” I said. “I get it. I know…” I sighed heavily. I hated words. I hated trying to put the confusing things I felt into plain language. I hated trying to be understood, hated it so much I’d given up on it for years.
Somehow Zane had managed to change that. He made me want to try, even when it was hard.
Zane smiled gently. “Don’t be sorry. He wasn’t scared of you, and I wasn’t worried for him. I was far more worried that little Raelynn was going to try to fight you, and that would’ve been a real mess. Like a chihuahua fighting a Doberman.”
I laughed. “Oh fuck, that would’ve sucked. I mean, she wouldn’t have won.”
“Not a chance. But you know Leon wouldn’t have let you beat on his toy.”
I shook my head. “No. Probably not. I’d fight him too though.”
I wasn’t sure how many minutes passed. I stopped counting them, stilling the eternally ticking clocks in my head. It wasn’t about Leon, not really. It wasn’t even about the Watcher, who’d retreated out of sight. It was the lack of control. It was the fear of letting go of fear itself. Fear had always kept me going, hatred kept me going. Letting that go, even a little bit, was like dismantling my own shelter.
But my shelter was crashing around me, it was a hazard as much as it was a defense. Maybe it was okay to dismantle it if there was another shelter there, something better, something safer. Something with a little light I could catch.
Strange that Hell’s light could shine so bright.
Even with a light by my side, I waited in darkness, for something darker still. The party raged on into the night. We didn’t return to the house, but instead, lingered in the garden and when too many people began to come out, we wandered back into the trees. We kept an eye on the house from a distance, watching through the massive glass windows.
“Maybe he’s not here,” Zane said, but I shook my head. Watching the party from outside was like watching a bizarre clockwork, all the characters going through their motions, deep beats replacing the clock’s chime. Drink, dance, laugh. Perfect smiles and posturing gradually growing sloppy.
“If they intended to take Rae tonight, Kent will be here,” I said. “He’s here somewhere.”
But as the time went on, I began to have my doubts.
It was after midnight, and the night had grown cold. Some of the crowds within the house had dispersed, but those that remained were trashed as hell. I could hear someone vomiting near the front of the house, and I adjusted my gun to rest a little more comfortably on my knee. I glanced up at Zane, but he wasn’t watching the house anymore.
He was staring behind us, into the trees.
“What is it?” I followed his gaze, trying to make out anything in the dark.
“Probably nothing,” he said, but his eyes were narrowed. “I thought I smelled…” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. There’s nothing back there.”
I was about to insist he tell me what the hell he thought he’d seen, but sudden movement back toward the house caught my attention. I raised my gun, watching as two figures climbed over the railing on the deck. A small one was lowered down first, before the other leaped down, grabbed her hand, and ran with her into the trees.
“Leon,” Zane said, watching from behind me.
“And Rae,” I whispered. “What are they running from?”
Minutes passed as I watched the deck. Then the door opened again, and a familiar figure walked out across the deck. They came right up to the railing, staring out into the dark.
It was Kent Hadleigh, dressed in a gray suit. He puffed slowly on his cigar as his eyes scanned the trees, his other hand at his side gripping a pistol. My vision shrank, everything else fading into the background. He was so goddamn close. I could make the shot from here.
Zane tapped my arm, right as I was about to raise the gun. “Wait. Not yet.”
Kent strode down the stairway from the deck, the smoke from his cigar trailing behind him. I caught a whiff of it, rich tobacco and vanilla as he passed close by our hiding place in the trees. He stopped right at the tree line, and clicked his tongue as if in disappointment.
Every inch of me was tense, my nerves tingling. The excitement coursing through me was almost too much to contain, a high that just kept rising. This was it. He was here, just like Everly had said he’d be. He was only feet away.
