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“Get after her!”
“This changes nothing,” Cavendish bellowed after me. “Make your choice, de Souza. Make your choice!”
I ran. Arms swinging, feet pounding, blood pumping loud in my ear, and not loud enough to block them out.
“This one’s tasty.”
“Look at her ass when she runs.”
I bolted around the house and faced the six-feet-high wooden fence. Leaping, I seized the posts, heaving myself up. Hands grabbed my ankles.
“Get off!”
They ripped me down, tearing me free of the fence and leaving bits of my skin behind. My feet secure, my face rushed to meet the lawn. Pain exploded in my head.
The world went black.
Chapter Four
“... nothing will stop me...”
Low, persistent rumbling filled my ear, tap-tap-tapping on my consciousness. All I wanted to do was sleep. I earned sleep after what I’ve been through. Gran, Ivy, Andrew. I was thrown in hell and hit every flaming spire on the way down. Just let me sleep.
“Nothing will stop me. Except you.”
A thump rattled my bones, jarring me awake.
Peeling my eyes open, I met with a cascade of stars. A shining, scattering nebula so beautiful, I was ten years old again, lying out on a blanket with Gran and Ivy as we made up stories for the constellations.
The happy memory faded as quickly as it came. The earth wasn’t as hard on those late-night picnics. I didn’t have something digging into my cheek, or a prickly numb feeling that said my arm fell asleep. On those nights, the earth didn’t move.
Twisting my neck, I took stock of my surroundings.
I was in the back of a moving truck. The Bedlam Boys’ truck.
Yeah, it was starting to come back to me. They found me with Cavendish. Chased me, caught me at the fence, and—
A spike of pain went through my forehead, forcefully claiming my attention.
They caught and tossed me in the back like a sack of manure. Actually, like a sack of sand.
I blinked at the sandbags lining the back of the bed, and tucked in the corner, a container of gasoline. It sat next to an overturned toolbox, likely upended when they hit a bump. Explained why I was lying on a wrench.
I reached to push it away and my hand didn’t move. Straining, I yanked on my binds, crying out as the ropes bit tighter. Caught, tossed, and tied in the back of their truck.
“Shit-brained assholes!” I shrieked. “Let me out of here!”
“Quiet down, darling,” an unfamiliar voice called back. “We’ll get to you soon enough.”
“You can’t do this to me. I have to go. I have to—”
Music blasted out of the speakers, drowning out my shouts.
Calm down, Rainey. Think. Think!
Taking a deep breath, I held it till my pulse slowed. My mind cleared. There are tools rolling all over the place. Use them to get free.
Shifting, I twisted to put my bound hands within reach, and our eyes locked. My scream made him grimace.
“Goodness, I have to agree with your friends up there,” said Cavendish. “Quiet down.”
“No.” I flung myself away from him. “No, no, no.”
“Relax. I can hardly hurt you tied up like this.”
It was true. I assumed Cavendish put up a much bigger fight because they hogtied his ass. The ropes looped around his wrists and bound his ankles. He lay on his side, bent like my bow, ready to fire.
Dirt covered his face and clothes—streaks of black to mingle with the red. Some of the blood on him was from my shoe to the head. The rest courtesy of the Bedlam Boys.
“I don’t know what you did to end up on their sacrifice list, but now you can’t hurt me, Jennifer, or anyone else tonight.” I spit in his face. “At the end of the night, I’ll drag Sheriff Sharpe out of his office and watch him put the cuffs on you. It’s over.”
Cavendish barely blinked at the glob running down his face. “I admit, these guys showing up were a surprise, but this is far from over. I thought I made that clear.” He observed me. “No? Then, let me spell it out for you. Jennifer Wilson left campus this morning but never made it home. She’s currently staying in a place she doesn’t like very much, screaming and crying for help—using up the precious little oxygen she has left.”
My mouth went dry. Lips parting, I tried to speak and nothing came out.
“Kill me and you’ll get her location.” He tsked. “You’ve wasted so much time. Time poor Jennifer doesn’t have. How much more will you waste playing the scared little innocent? You’re not for this world, Rainey. It’s time to live where the wild things are.”
“You c-can’t do this.” Dampness soaked my cheeks, stingy in the cool night air. “You won’t make me do this.”
“I already did.”
The car began to slow. Miles and miles of secluded forest road and our trip was so painfully short. Why couldn’t Westchester Drumlins be on the fucking moon?
