AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yeah, well, this is some seriously bad luck,” Jayla mutters. “But that doesn’t seem right. What about the rest?”
“The stuff in the boathouse was the same. An occult ‘go away.’ But I did find some other kind of symbol—rougher—on the bluff this morning.”
“Plus the rat king,” Kit says.
“And what about the bird-feather wind chimes?” Jayla asks.
“I never found anything online about that, though it was harder to search. I figured it was just generic creepiness.”
“That’sthe answer,” Jayla says, jabbing a finger at me. “Sinclair and Rossi found something, and they copied it. Whatever they summoned tried to imitate the wind chimes with parts of Rossi’s body. That’s the one it chose to copy, which means it’s a message. Not a demonic wind chime obviously, but a configuration of materials Sinclair and Rossi used as a wind chime. Whatever that originalconfiguration did, it made some kind of promise. An oath. It called this entity, who expects whatever was promised, and when it doesn’t get it, it goes haywire, killing everyone in sight and leaving a similar configuration for you. It’s saying you summoned it and reneged on the deal.”
“So now what do we do?” Kit says. “Explain it’s all a misunderstanding, shake hands with the spawn of evil and go our separate ways?”
“I know that sounds ridiculous,” Jayla says. “But itcancommunicate. We just need to do that.”
“Shout it from the rooftops? Hope it hears?”
“Do you have a better idea?” She looks from me to Kit. “Then the rooftop it is.”
THIRTY-ONE
We don’t actually go onto the rooftop. Kit doesn’t want anyone leaving the house, and I agree. Jayla didn’t mean it that literally anyway. I’m going to attempt to communicate via the sound system.
Yes, our off-the-grid summer house has a sound system. It lets me play a podcast while I garden or an audiobook while I cook or music while I entertain. It can also, apparently, broadcast. Or it can after Kit tinkers. And by “tinkers,” I mean that he shows me how to record myself and then play it over the speakers.
Jayla helps me craft a message. I think she’s worried I’ll leave some loophole for the entity to exploit. We get it worked to her satisfaction, and I record it on my phone. Then Kit plays it over the speakers on a loop. We can hear it even inside. The night has gone eerily quiet, with storm clouds hovering as if waiting, just waiting.
How silly do I feel recording an apology and explanation for an evil entity terrorizing my island? Damn silly. But finally something makes sense, insomuch as anything involving “evil entities” can make sense.
John Sinclair and Rachel Rossi wanted to scare me. So like a couple of prankster teens, they googled “dark magic” and started staging hex circles on my island. Except they stumbled over something that summoned an actual entity and made a promise. That entity emerges on my island and decides that, as the owner, clearly I called it. When I don’t fulfill the promise, it traps us all on the island and starts picking us off, one by one, until I give it what it wants.
What does it want? I cannot even begin to imagine, and I don’t actually care because I didn’t summon it. Does that matter? I’m not sure. Jayla’s acting as if we can negotiate with this entity like a neighbor with a fence dispute. All I know is that it can communicate. It is sentient, and it can use Sadie to speak to us—use her physical body to speak and her brain to speak in a language we understand. If it has the mental capacity to demand payment on its debt, then presumably it also has the capacity to comprehend the situation Sinclair and Rossi placed us in. Or so we hope.
We’re in the great room. Jayla sits cross-legged on a recliner. I’m on the sofa bed with Madison, who’s still unconscious but seems to be resting comfortably. Kit gets a fire going in the woodstove to ward off the autumn chill as darkness falls outside. When he’s done, Jayla rises for a bathroom break. Kit starts to say something, but she lifts a hand to stop him.
“Downstairs powder room only, because it’s close by and doesn’t have windows,” she says.
She continues walking, and Kit perches on the arm of the sofa bed. I ease sideways to give him room, and he slides down beside me and puts an arm around my shoulders.
“Madison’s going to be all right,” he says. “We all are. If that message doesn’t work, help will be on the way in a few hours. We’ll get off this island, and we’ll be fine.”
I nod and lay my head against his shoulder.
He clears his throat. “Not to put the cart before the horse, but when this is over, can we try again?”
“Yes, please.”
His arm tightens, and he goes to kiss the top of my head, butI lift my face and meet his lips instead. He kisses me, tentative at first and then deeper, and I fall into that kiss, into the comfort and joy of it.
I will get through this. I will make damned sure I do, because here’s what’s waiting for me.
“And apparently I needed to take a longer bathroom break,” Jayla says.
We separate. Not a guilty jumping apart, just a slow and regretful separation, with Kit’s arm still around my shoulders.
“I have no idea how you two can make out with that.” She gestures at the windows.
“An evil entity stalking the island?” I say.
