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Zara stormed past me and checked the bedrooms, linen closet, laundry, and bathroom, expression turning darker and darker as she continually came up empty. I remained steadfast in my spot on the carpet above the hatch, arms crossed over my chest.
Ali returned a few minutes later. “There’s a shed and a chicken coop outside. Both empty,” he said. “I checked that Toyota too. Nothing in there.”
“I guess this is the part where I say I told you so,” I said, lifting a brow.
Zara whipped her head around the hall, eyes flashing with frustration. “There must be a basement somewhere.”
My blood froze in my veins. “I wouldn’t know,” I said in a pleasant tone, keeping a perfectly-straight face. If they registered any fear in my expression, they’d instantly know I was lying about everything. “I didn’t find one when I looked earlier. But you’re welcome to keep looking.”
Ali lay a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “I saw a hatch on the wall outside. It went down to some sort of underground storage area,” he said. “It was empty.”
“Did you go inside to check properly?”
“Yes. I went all the way down the steps and checked every inch of it,” Ali replied. “No one there.”
Inwardly, I sighed with relief. The property had two cellars on it, and Ali had discovered the more obvious one. Now he’d think it was the only one, and he wouldn’t bother searching the place for another.
“I think he’s telling the truth,” he went on in a low voice. “The girls are gone.”
“Shit,” Zara muttered, eyes tightening at the corners. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“It’s okay. We’ll track them down and bring them back,” Ali said, patting her shoulder again.
She returned her withering gaze to me. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to tell us the make and model of the white car the girls took?”
I tilted my chin and pretended to consider it. “No, I don’t suppose I would.”
“Slimy little prick. You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” she said in a low voice. The red flush had crept into her cheeks, and a vein was popping out on her left temple.
I smiled at her. “Well, I just took down a three-hundred-year-old secret society with a social media post, so… yeah? I guess I’m pretty fucking smart.”
Zara took a deep breath, lifted her chin, and straightened her stance. “I’m going to give you one more chance, Jensen. Tell us exactly where the girls are heading. Right now.”
“First of all, fuck no,” I said, voice dripping with scorn. “Secondly, why the hell are you even bothering with this shit? I mean, you saw what we did, right? You must know it’s over for you. This time next week, you’ll be in custody with every other Rosmerta asshole. Unless you start running now.”
“Oh, we’re well aware of what you’ve done,” Zara replied, upper lip curling in a contemptuous snarl. “You’ve destroyed everything we’ve ever worked for. And now… you’re going to pay for it.”
With that, she raised the gun in her right hand and fired.
Amerie
I lay frozen beneath the blanket, breath hitched and heart hammering wildly in my chest. Piper was curled up in front of me, one arm coiled around me.
“I haven’t heard anything for a while,” she whispered. “Have you?”
“No,” I whispered back. The air was still and thick with tension. Every muscle in my body remained locked with fear. “I heard some footsteps a few minutes ago. But they were pretty faint.”
“Maybe they all left.”
“Maybe.” I swallowed thickly. “But if they’re gone, why wouldn’t Jensen come and get—”
Before I could finish my sentence, a sharp crack pierced the silence. The sound seemed to vibrate through the floorboards and into the cellar, sending a shockwave of terror though my body.
I reflexively opened my mouth to scream, and Piper clamped a hand over my lips to stop it. “We have to stay quiet,” she muttered. Her voice had suddenly thickened, like she was trying to stop herself from crying.
The blast was echoing in my ears, and a burning cold was creeping into my skin, like my heart had started pumping liquid nitrogen through my blood vessels.
Piper sniffed next to me. Then it was like a dam burst, and her chest began to heave with wrenching sobs. “I’m sorry,” she said in a broken whisper. “It’s all my fault.”
