CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Sam gasped as she hit the
floor, sucking life-giving air until her chest ached. The horror
clung to her mouth and nose, but she could breathe. It still stuck
to her eyes, gluing her eyelashes together, but she didn’t need to
see. She’d been blind for most of her life. She’d probably do
better without using her eyes. The sighted world was confusing,
distracting, and right now she wouldn’t be able to deal with what
she saw.
Stephen was dead. She
didn’t know how she knew, but she did.
The second it had
happened, a light went off in a room somewhere deep inside her. The
place in her heart that had always been Stephen’s was empty. No,
not empty … altered. It was no longer a place of activity and life.
It was a museum exhibit, a memorial to the past, something that
would never change and grow to be anything more than it had been.
The brother she’d loved like a father and a best friend was gone.
Forever.
And Jace was … hurt,
very badly hurt. He wasn’t dead. She couldn’t even allow the
possibility to enter her mind. Not only had he risked his life to
save hers—bursting inside the monstrous thing that held her and
pulling her free—but he’d given her a piece of
himself.
His touch had sent a
jolt of electricity washing through her tired cells, awakening the
spark of life that had been so close to blowing out, connecting her
to Jace with a psychic bond as strong as her bond to the demons and
their host. Maybe stronger. He’d given her what she needed to fight
her way back toward consciousness, and she wasn’t going to let his
sacrifice be in vain. She was going to destroy the box and its
demons, smash it to bits with her bare hands if she had
to.
Her hands would be
free in a moment or two. The slickness of the blood she’d been
drowning in coated the ropes, making it relatively easy to twist
her wrists free and fling the restraints away.
Sam fumbled along the
ground on her hands and knees, struggling to discern where she was.
In the other room, guns still fired and men screamed, and beneath
it all Ezra and Sunshine chanted something wicked into the world,
but Sam didn’t pay attention to the sounds floating to her through
clogged ears. She needed to hear only one thing: the demons
screaming as they died the way they should have died a long time
ago.
“Samantha! Hurry. You
and the man, you’ve got to close the box together. It will banish
the demons.” It was the woman’s voice she’d heard just before the
hot, sticky mess had pulled her under.
Now Sam knew where
she’d heard it before. It was the woman who had warned her to run,
the one who Sunny had allowed to get away, if Ezra was to be
believed. Was she another victim? Or someone they’d been working
with who had betrayed them?
Sam couldn’t know for
sure, but she had no one else to trust, and they were all out of
time. “Where is it? Tell me, which direction should
I—”
“To your right! But
don’t close it alone, and it’s—”
The woman’s words
ended in a scream, but Sam didn’t waste time asking her what had
happened or if she was okay. She clearly was in pain and none of
them was okay. None of them was ever going to be okay unless she
reached that damn box.
Sam scrambled along
on her hands and knees, patting the floor in front of her as she
went, every nerve ending sending up its own little prayer that she
would feel it. That her fingers would touch cool, dry wood any
second. Then she—
“Oh, God.” She cried
out as her fingers found something round and firm and wet, like a
grape that had been skinned and dipped in water. Ice water. The
thing was so cold, chilled to its core.
It was an eye, one of
the victims’ eyes. But there wasn’t time to let the horror of the
realization slow her down. The box had to be nearby. If it had
fallen open and the eyes rolled out, they couldn’t have gone too
far.
She resumed her
search, frantically patting the carpet, trying not flinch as she
found another eye and then another and then, finally, her
fingertips brushed across the box. The wretchedness she’d felt when
she’d touched it the first time returned with a vengeance, but none
of the despair or weakness came along with it. She was no longer
tempted by the demons’ unique brand of evil.
“Samantha! Hurry!”
The woman’s voice was closer now, but still not close enough. Even
if she was a friend and ally, as Sam suspected, there was nothing
she could do to help other than shout advice.
The woman was as much
a victim of the aura demons as Sam herself. It was Emma across the
room, the sister she hadn’t dared believe still lived.
No … it couldn’t be …
Sam thought, doubting the knowledge that had somehow surged into
her brain. Her sister had died when she wasn’t more than a few
weeks old. No infant could have survived the kind of blood loss
that Emma had suffered at the hands of the elders of the
cult.
But it was her sister. She could sense it. Somehow Emma
was alive and well and … here….
The distraction of
learning that her sister was still alive slowed her down, made her
hands linger on the edges of the box. Which was exactly what the
demons had intended, Sam realized seconds later as Emma screamed
and Sam felt something firm and muscled latch around her
ankles.
Her scream joined her
sister’s as she was lifted into the air, and the box flew out of
her hand. Whatever it was that had grabbed her shook her, making
her teeth rattle and her neck crack at the end of her spine. Sam
tightened every muscle in her body and then just as quickly tried
to relax, unsure which action would be more likely to keep her from
being paralyzed. She had to stay in one piece and gain her freedom.
Jace’s life depended on it.
She’d been so stupid
to let down her guard for a second, to think the box and its demons
had only one trick up their sleeve.
She was fighting
ancient evil, demons who had been manipulating humans for
centuries. They wouldn’t be conquered so easily. Hell, they
wouldn’t be conquered at all, especially not by a tiny scrap of a
person who couldn’t see, who couldn’t keep her thoughts focused
for—
Sam muttered aloud to
herself, not even sure what she was saying, knowing only that
making noise helped block the influence of the demons. It also
helped her feel stronger, to reconnect with that surge of power
she’d felt when Jace had touched her.
Jace. He was still
alive. She could feel it.
“Reach out your arms
when I tell you! Trust me, please!” Em-ma’s voice was so earnest,
so desperate, that Sam knew she had to listen. If she was a fool to
trust her sister, then she would die a fool. Better a fool than a
cynic … or so she’d always thought. Now that belief might be put to
the final test.
“Now! Reach out and
grab him!” Emma shouted.
Sam reached,
straining her arms out, blindly searching for Jace. That was the
“him” Emma was referring to, she knew without having to ask. She
and Jace couldn’t beat this thing apart—their combined failures
made that abundantly clear—but maybe Emma was right and together
they would have a chance.
That suspicion grew
stronger when her fingers burst through what felt like the firm
plastic exterior of a water balloon and into the ooze she’d escaped
from only a few minutes before. As soon as her hands touched the
hard planes of Jace’s back, Sam grabbed hold and clung for dear
life. That sense of connection and the rightness of being with Jace engulfed her once
more. She’d made the right choice. Even if her actions ended with
her being stuck inside with him, she wouldn’t let him
go.
She loved him more
than she’d ever loved anything. She’d lost a lot of things in her
life, and she’d just lost Stephen, the only family she’d ever
known—she wasn’t going to lose Jace, too. It just. Wasn’t. Going.
To happen.
Sam dug her fingers
into Jace’s arms as the thing at her feet tugged her backward. Her
muscles protested, and her arms felt like they were about to pop
from their sockets, but still she held on, until her spine was
stretched tight and her ankles throbbed and sharp pain shot from
her feet to her knees. Finally the tugging of the monster holding
her succeeded in popping both her and Jace free.
As gravity engaged,
Jace’s weight became too much. She was a woman who spent her time
arranging flowers, not lifting weights. She just couldn’t hold on
to two hundred pounds of man, and Jace eventually fell from her
arms. Luckily, however, she held on to him long enough for their
combined weight to overpower the thing that held her.
She crashed onto the
ground, half on top of Jace, more relieved than she could express
when he grunted as her elbow gouged into his stomach. He was alive!
And breathing and grunting that annoyed grunt that was becoming one
of her favorite sounds in the world.
“You’re okay. You’re
okay.” Her hands feathered over his body, up to his face, and then
farther up, only to jerk away as she touched the sticky remains of
his hair. It was gone, or mostly gone.
He’d been burned,
badly. She wanted to reach out and feel the true extent of the
damage, but she didn’t dare. They didn’t have time, and she didn’t
want to risk infecting his wounds. She’d let a doctor handle them
properly when they got out of here.
Because they
were getting out of here. Now. Right
after they took care of one last little detail.
“Jace. Can you see
the—”
“Sammy? God, what …”
Jace’s voice was thick and heavy, revealing just how exhausted and
hurt he was.
No matter what Emma
had said about the pair of them being able to banish the demons if
they stayed together, his voice frightened her. Jace, one of the
strongest men she’d ever met, sounded so beaten. He didn’t sound
capable of stopping one of the tricycle-riding toddlers who played
near her apartment. How in the world would he stop something so
powerful and ancient with the kind of power that—
“Fight them, Sammy.”
Jace whispered the words, but Sam heard them loud and clear. “Don’t
listen.”
The box and the
demons. They were working on her mind again, trying to make sure
she stayed hopeless. They were afraid that she and Jace would find
a way to put them out of commission.
“Come on. We have to
find the box,” Sam said, swiping at her eyes with one hand and
fumbling for Jace’s hand with the other. Seeing suddenly seemed
like a good idea. If she could look into Jace’s eyes and see his
faith in her there, she knew she’d feel a thousand times
better.
Finally, after
pulling a few dozen eyelashes out by the root, she was able to peek
through one matted lid and turn to Jace and see … nothing.
Absolutely nothing, not even a darker place in the
shadows.
“Jace?” she asked,
even though she knew it was him, even though she felt his hand in
hers.
“We’ve got to shut
that box,” he said, squeezing her hand.
“Right,” Sam said,
grateful that he sounded a little stronger. “Do you see it? If we
can close it together, then—”
“We’ll close it,”
Jace said, gripping her hand even harder. He was okay. He wasn’t as
weak as she’d thought.
“Sounds good, but we
have to find it first. I had it in my hands, but I dropped it when
the, um … whatever that is picked me up.”
“They looked like …
fingers, made of shadows. Like the things you said you saw in your
dreams. But they’re gone now. I think we did some
damage.”
So much for dream
metaphors. Seemed like all the horror in her life was absolutely
real.
Sam shivered. “Do you
see the box?” she asked, turning her head to look around the room.
She still couldn’t see a damn thing except … the body a half dozen
feet away. Her brother’s body.
He was still covered
in that strange yellow goo, still had clawlike projections where
his fingers should have been, but it was Stephen. He’d died trying
to fight the thing she was assuming she’d take down so easily. He’d
been bigger, stronger, meaner, and he’d fallen in an instant, as
easily killed as an insect beneath a man’s shoe.
And while she’d been
chatting it up with her boyfriend, the evil had taken her sister
over as well. Emma was as good as dead, and Sam would be next. Then
there would be no more Quinns, unless Sam came to her senses
and—
“Fight them. Don’t
let them get in,” Jace said, shaking the hand he held, making her
arm flop bonelessly at her side.
Emma. She hadn’t said
a word since Sam and Jace had spilled onto the carpet. “Is there
another woman in the room?” Sam asked, a knot in her
throat.
“The
blonde?”
“I don’t know. I
never saw her. I just—”
“Yeah, she’s still
here. But she’s down on the floor across the room. I think she’s
still alive, but I can’t be sure.”
“She’s still alive,”
Sam said, relief making her stronger. “I’d be able to see her if
she weren’t.”
“You
mean—”
“Stephen’s dead,” Sam
confirmed. “I’m not sure about me. I saw myself in a mirror
earlier, but I can’t see my arms or body now, so I’m not sure if
I’m going to die or not.” She sounded crazy, even to
herself.
“We’re going to get
this thing and get the hell out of here.” Jace’s tone left no doubt
he thought she was losing it, but that was okay.
She suspected she was
losing it … a little bit. She was absurdly calm, considering her
brother was dead, her long-lost sister was alive but in danger,
she’d nearly drowned, the man she loved had been severely burned,
and the demons that had caused all that were still in the same room
with her. She was probably going into shock, but there was no time
to worry about that. There wasn’t even time to mention the
possibility to Jace before he was pulling her across the
room.
“I see the box. We’re
almost there.”
“Don’t let go of me,”
Sam warned as she tripped and nearly fell, but was pulled upright
by the hand Jace still held. “Emma said we could shut it together
and banish the demons. I don’t think it can hurt us as long as
we’re touching. I know that sounds stupid, but—”
“No, it doesn’t,”
Jace said, but didn’t elaborate further. Probably smart. This
wasn’t the time. “Keep walking straight. We’re almost
there.”
The last few feet of
their adventure were strangely calm. No shadow fingers, no
screaming from long-lost sisters, no immersion in wombs filled with
blood. In fact, the entire museum was as still and quiet as if it
were a normal business day, as if there were nothing more dramatic
occurring than a few dozen people taking in the latest
exhibits.
The sudden silence
was unnerving, as terrifying as anything that had come before. It
felt … wrong, dangerous. What had happened to the screams from the
other room? To Ezra’s and Sunshine’s chanting? To the shouts and
gunfire of Jace’s men?
By the time Jace
knelt on the ground, pulling her with him, Sam was shaking all
over.
“Jace, I meant what I
said earlier,” she said, needing to make sure he knew … just in
case. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
The emotion in his voice left no doubt that he meant every word,
making her heart race even faster. He loved her. He really did.
“And you’re moving in with me tomorrow.”
“Okay.” She smiled,
even though the hair on her arms stood up, the animal part of her
still skittish at being so close to the evil thing in front of
them.
“No
arguments?”
“Nope. I told you, I
can let a man take the lead if he knows what he’s
doing.”
“Good.” She heard his
smile. “Now, let’s do this. We’ll use these.” He gave the hand he
held a gentle shake. “Don’t touch it with your other hand, just in
case it’s like the other thing.”
In case it could
kill, he meant, but he was being careful not to freak her out any
more than she was already. Sam appreciated it. Reaching forward
until her and Jace’s joined hands touched the cool, dry wood was
scary enough as it was.
But not quite scary
enough. If she’d been properly frightened, she would have run from
the room. But she didn’t. They didn’t. It was the last mistake
either of them would ever make.