The Leviathan (the Bell Witch Series Book 5) 3m1d1

The Leviathan

The Bell Witch Series Book 5 Written by Sara Clancy Edited by Kathryn St. John-Shin

Copyright © 2020 by ScareStreet.com

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Epilogue

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Chapter 1

Cussing under her breath, Mina Crane contemplated throwing her buzzing cell phone across the room. She jabbed at the touch screen that refused to recognize her fire-ravaged fingers. In a last desperate attempt, she coated her finger with her kneadable eraser. She was both relieved and insulted that it actually worked. “Hello? I’m here.” “Is everything all right?” Ha-Yun Davis asked instantly. Mina tried to keep concern out of her voice, but it still seeped into the words. “I’m fine.” “Are you sure?” Even though she was in a relatively abandoned part of the library, Mina kept her voice to a whisper. “Yes. I misplaced my stylus and my fingers just aren’t cutting it.” Ozzie’s parents had followed through on their threat and, for the first time in her life, Mina had been grounded. At times, it struck her as strange to be a college student subjected to punishment by her friend’s parents. Then she recalled that her own family had disowned her, and she was currently freeloading off the Davis family’s hospitality. It cleared the situation up quite effectively. Without them, she wouldn’t have survived the ‘accident’, let alone retained her grade point average in her classes during the aftermath. Without them and the professors who had customized an online program for her to take while recovering, she would have been thrown far from her life plan. She wasn’t sure how she could have taken that if it had happened and could only be grateful for everyone’s help. Nervously, Mina fussed with the books before her. The sketches of trials and torture had become so commonplace in her research that she was able to mindlessly flip through the pages. She was systematically working her way through every library, bookshop, and historical research center in Dallas. It was humbling how little progress she’d made in researching witchcraft. There was

simply too much cultural interference. She ran into brick walls every time she tried to sort reality from fiction. After the normal questions about her health, the conversation turned to Mina’s curfew. She hadn’t realized how much time had ed until Ha-Yun mentioned it. Thirty minutes until I’m supposed to be through the door. The moment of panic about getting the bus back in time was swiftly swept aside when she recalled the second condition for her parole. Mr. and Mrs. Davis had agreed to let her leave the house so long as she only traveled using a town car service they had organized. “I’ll let the driver know I’m on my way once I hang up. I hope the poor guy got a coffee or something.” At this point, he would have been waiting for Mina outside of the university library for several hours. “He’s still on the clock, dear. I’m sure he’s fine,” Ha-Yun said. “Now, you our deal. If you are a second late, you can kiss your privileges goodbye for another week.” “Yes, ma’am.” “Well? Get moving.” After a pause, Ha-Yun added a far more affectionate farewell and swiftly hung up. Mina began to pack her belongings into her satchel. Her muscles protested after sitting too long, and her prosthetic leg chaffed against the stump of her leg. Enough time had ed for her to now have an idea of what the rest of her life was going to be like. The witch fire had left damage that was never going to heal, and there was only so much cosmetic surgery she could stand to have. Scar tissue still covered the vast majority of her body, and, while her face drew attention, the skin grafts had made it possible for her to get by without scaring small children. That was enough for her. Working the satchel strap onto her shoulder, Mina gathered the other books and started through the stacks to return them. Classes were still in session, ensuring that only the main rooms of the library were populated. Since some colleges restricted access to their law libraries to their own students and of the bar, Mina had been able to avoid talking to anyone. Having melted skin covering

the majority of her body proved useful in this regard. While people noticed her, they were hesitant to question her about anything. Perhaps because they feared the wrong question might slip out. So far, their mutually ignorant cohabitation was working well for all concerned. Mostly herself. It was relaxing to be within the rows of case law after days of delving into Wicca and Witchcraft. Like a touchstone of sanity that let her regain her bearings. Legends might change over time, added to and polished to better entertain their audiences, but law kept to statements of facts. It was a welcome respite to read about witch trials in the same emotionless clarity, even if hindsight had drawn some of the ‘facts’ into question. If nothing else, the witness lists left a paper trail. And given time, determination, and perhaps an unhealthy amount of obsession, she was determined to use these to track Caroline Winthrop. As a child, Cadwyn’s ancestor had sent Katrina Hamilton to the noose. Her testimony had been the final, critical blow that ended Katrina’s reign of terror upon the Bell family. At least, the one she had raged as a flesh and blood woman. No one could have anticipated what Katrina would become after her death. In turn, Mina doubted that Katrina had realized what her torture would turn Caroline into. A witch hunter. If the rumors were in any way accurate. Mina contemplated the thought as she shelved another book. And if they bothered to credit a woman with any of it. From the trials she had read so far, the few witch hunters that the courts acknowledged were men. She forced another book into place as the thought struck her. Even if they didn’t give her credit, the town would have paid her, and there would be a record of that. It was another thing to add to the list of starting points that would likely lead nowhere. Balancing the stack in the crook of one arm, she trailed down the mostly abandoned aisle. Few people had need or interest for long-abandoned 1600s laws. There was something satisfying in sliding the books back into their place amongst their brethren. A particularly large book slipped from her fingers to flop loudly against the floor. With a stifled sigh, she awkwardly crouched down to collect it. Her eyes lingered on the old sketch in the bottom right-hand corner, depicting the ittedly strange trial of a witch’s familiar. Generally, the animals accused of such activity were either omitted altogether or appeared nonchalantly in the dissolution of property paperwork. For reasons she couldn’t fathom, this particular mastiff had been given a public execution. Her searching hand jerked back when the pages suddenly thrashed as if pushed

by an unfelt wind. It settled on a court depiction of an execution by fire and Mina paused. Fire was more of a European thing. In America, hanging was the preferred method of execution. The monochrome image filled Mina’s mind, chasing out everything else until all she saw was the agony and fear sketched into the woman’s face. Mina knew intimately what it was like to burn. When she had thrown herself into Whitney’s ritual fire, with the bones of the Bell Witch lodged within her gut, she had thought she was going to her death. She had prayed for it before long. Memories consumed her as phantom flames sparked across her skin. Heated air surrounded her, making her lungs blister and burn with every breath. She had never known how loud a fire could be. It had drowned out even her screams. But I survived. Mina used the thought as a shield against the onslaught of memories. I survived. And I’m not the same as I was. Mentally or physically. Protected by the thought, Mina whispered, “I’m fireproof.” The night in a hotel, when a mysterious hag had tried to murder her in her bed, Mina had spontaneously combusted. Flames had come from within and destroyed everything around her. But she had been left unharmed. Even her prosthetic melting against her skin hadn’t been enough to leave a mark. It wasn’t something she could summon or control. Despite her best efforts to scientifically examine the phenomena, she couldn’t replicate the conditions. It had only happened twice, both times when she was fearing for her life. Swallowing thickly, she lifted her gaze to the ceiling, hoping to find an elaborate and fully functioning sprinkler system. Unwilling to yield to her growing fear, Mina smirked, mimicking the cocky disinterest Basheba Bell had whenever threatened. “You’re going to have to get more creative.” The pages flipped again when she reached out to take it. A second later, it settled, revealing an image that was printed across both pages. Not a witch trial. She knew the technique of werewolf interrogation from the fringes of her research. Movement suddenly entered the picture, like a moment in time playing out before her eyes. The inquisitor dragged a knife over the captive’s flesh, slicing off large patches to search for the layer of fur believed to lie beneath. Blood coursed from the wound, thick and red, welling until it dripped from the pages and stained the carpet. The captive bucked wildly and screamed, though she couldn’t hear any of it. Couldn’t do anything but watch as the image turned

to face her. Jeremiah! She slammed the book closed, sparing herself the image of her brother being tortured. Get out now! The command slammed into the forefront of her mind and she surged back to her feet. Discarding the books in a pile, Mina worked her way down the aisle, fingers fumbling with her mobile phone. You planned for this, Mina. Call the driver. Call Cadwyn. Keep moving. Her hand froze when she first felt the gaze upon her back like a scorching heat. The sensation felt like a long-forgotten dream. Burning within, the witch fire had distorted her perception of temperature, heat in particular. Carefully, she turned her head to glance over her shoulder. The aisle behind her was empty, bathed in the sterile glow of the overhead fluorescent lights. Mina carefully searched the area around her for anything even slightly amiss. Everything was as it had been for the last few hours. A new flux of students entered the library. She didn’t see them. Only heard the new whispers and shuffling of books and pens. Everything was peaceful. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was no longer simply being messed with. Whatever had come to visit her was hunting her. Taking a sobering breath, she made a beeline for the main area. Practice had made running on her prosthetic a lot easier than it had been, but she still walked with a prominent limp. Every step was a reminder of how easily she could be broken. How vulnerable she truly was. The distant hum of life beckoned to her. Not that it’s safe anymore. When she had first been selected for the Harvest, the monsters had thrived in the dark, the Four Families their chosen prey. Crowds of outsiders had offered them some measure of protection, forcing the demons to lure them away if they wanted to take their pound of flesh. During their latest visit to the Bell property, everything had changed. Outsiders hadn’t been a deterrent. The memory of the slaughter played on the outskirts of her mind and her pace slowed. Every pounding heartbeat rattled through her limbs. Her survival instincts screamed at her to keep moving, but she couldn’t shake off the thought that she was leading a wolf into a flock of sheep. It was still unproven how far the Bell Witch demons could travel away from Black River, or if they could at all. But she knew that something was wrong. Keep to the evacuation plan. She didn’t like going anywhere without one these days. Not that anyone makes it easy. Fear of terrorism made people reluctant to

post building blueprints online. The fire exits are alarmed. One major entrance and exit, she recalled, approaching the end of the row. Another deep breath and she forced her brain to work. Keep to the north side of the building, where the most windows are, and cut through the computer lab. It was the route that had the least amount of people. A few students slipped past the entrance to the row like drifting shadows, making Mina’s heart stammer and her arms tense. They ed on and she could breathe again. Quickening her pace, she limped around the bookshelf and started down the main walkway as casually as she could. An image formed in her mind’s eye so gradually that she didn’t notice it at first. Just beyond the reach of her peripheral vision, a creature of smoke and shadow followed alongside. It crawled over the tops of the high shelves; it’s long limbs easily crossing the distance separating the pillars. Even though each vertebra of its curved spine jutted out like spikes, there was no solid core to its body. It drifted as much as it moved. Mina swallowed thickly and tried to dispel the image. No other thought could take its place. It was always there. Lurking in the corner of her eyes. Watching her. Mina resisted the urge to glance over her shoulder to see if it was real. She cut sharply around the corner and headed toward the distant windows, an open area to one side, the last row of bookshelves to the other. As she walked, she couldn’t resist flicking her eyes to the top of the shelf. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t see it. She still felt it. And she had long since ed the point where she might question her instincts. The line of windows became her focal point. She fixed her focus on it and tried to push out any unnecessary information. All the while, the heat on the back of her neck grew. Sharpening until she could almost feel her skin blistering. I don’t burn. The knowledge sat heavily upon her brain, pushing her to the brink of hyperventilating. Relax. Breathe. Her eyes drifted to the books around her, and she wondered how fast a fire would spread. Entering the computer lab, she stopped short. The exit she needed stood directly before her, with numerous long tables filling the space in-between. The monitors were set toward her, their neon blue screensavers startling even within the brightly lit room. There were a few people scattered about. None of them paid her any attention as she carefully entered the room. She glanced away for only an instant but, by the time she looked back, a small boy stood before the exit

doors. His clothing was draped over his small frame with his rough slacks relying heavily on his suspenders to stay up. Mina glanced at the few other people in the room, desperate to know if anyone else saw the boy who clearly wasn’t in his own time period. The clatter of keys continued without interruption, making it clear that she was on her own. Or I’m going insane. She pushed the stray thought aside and steeled her spine. The boy met her gaze with dead eyes. There was no life to any of him. He simply held his position, waiting for her to approach. Plan B. In truth, there wasn’t much difference between her two options. ‘A’ had simply run a slightly lower risk of drawing civilians into the line of fire. But she wasn’t about to take another step forward and risk triggering whatever trap had been laid for her. Without breaking eye with the apparition, Mina slowly backed out of the room. Only once she was back within the open area did she turn. A scream lodged in her throat. The subdued crowd that flowed in and out of the library now worked around dozens of vine-choked pillars. Thick crimson liquid seeped from the bulbous grapes to pool on the floor. High above, where they scraped against the lofty ceiling, the vines burrowed through the flesh of some women’s torsos. Mina staggered back a half-step, her eyes flicking from one face to the other, finding more than one that she recognized. Katrina and Whitney, the two witches she believed had each held the title of ‘Bell Witch,’ loomed above her. Katrina had been a violent psychopath in life, something worse after death. The idea that she could have considered anyone her equal was laughable. But, as Mina scanned the room of mutilated women, each one so similar to the next, a single word burrowed into her brain like a railroad spike. Coven. An image suddenly settled into her mind’s eye of the smoke demon looming behind her. It slowly pressed one clawed finger into her skull, and the truth she feared to think on curled around her synapses like misting tendrils. Katrina had a coven. She shivered and the voice reentered her mind in a ghostly whisper. People die. Buildings crumble. Empires fall. But the coven remains. A lonesome horn bellowed in the distance like the last cry of a dying beast. As one, the women raised their arms, drawing up the draping vines that coiled through their flesh. Bodies hung like rotten fruit from the foliage. Uncountable

in number. A broken sob escaped her chest when she spotted the infants amongst the dead. Elderly, withered bodies that could never have posed a threat were scattered within the sea of youths. Mina knew she shouldn’t look, and yet she couldn’t stop her eyes from turning to Katrina’s vines. Her own family was displayed there with vindictive pride. It wasn’t just Cranes, though. Winthrops, Sewalls, and Bells choked the foliage, so numerous in number that there was barely room for another person. There will always be another. Mina shook herself violently, trying to physically throw out the demonic voice that had invaded her head. Like a film across her eyes, she could see the smoke creature smile at her attempt and push his claw in a little deeper. There will always be another. Mina’s blood rushed through her ears until she could barely hear the second blow of the horn. Tears blurred her vision. Her legs almost buckled as the creature forced her to understand what she was now witness to. Katrina didn’t invent the Harvest. She merely ed the game her benefactor had been playing for thousands of years. This is his collection. The benefactor had picked each one of these women like plucking an apple from a tree. He wanted to know what they’d do when given the ability to carry out their most sadistic desires. This is his game, Mina. You won’t win. There will always be a Bell Witch. Pain exploded across her chest, crushing down on her sternum and tossing her into the air. Startled screams reached her a split second before she collided with the wall. The lonesome horn followed her into unconsciousness.

Chapter 2

Ozzie smiled when he realized that he was readjusting his grip on his shotgun again. It was the slight wiggle of fingers that he had seen Basheba do every time she was getting ready for a fight. At least, she did before her hands got all mangled. Pushing the thought away, he took a deep breath, settled his fingers, and stared down the length of the double-barreled shotgun. One more deep breath and he nodded. In the corner of his vision, he watched Jeremiah hit the remote, bringing the machine by his feet to life. A short whirl and a sudden thump and two clay pigeons were thrust into the air. He tracked the first for a second before carefully squeezing the trigger. The disc shattered. Anticipating the recoil, he didn’t lose sight of the second disc. The thunderous boom echoed over the vast yard while the pigeon flopped onto the lush grass. His noise-canceling headphones kept him from realizing how loudly his frustrated cussing had become. He was only clued in when he noticed Jeremiah frozen in place, holding his own headphones away from his ears and looking nervously at the main house. “Relax. Mom’s not going to hear me,” Ozzie said, removing his headphones. “ the last time you said that?” Ozzie’s ears ached slightly as that particular memory came to mind. “I’m in my last year of high school. I think I’m old enough now to drop a few Fbombs.” “Yeah, you made that argument then, too.” Jeremiah smiled. “She did not agree.” Ozzie cringed, absently rubbing his knuckle against his aching earlobe. “She did not. Still, she’s watching the game. I think we’re safe.” More to prove the point, he gestured loosely across the yard. To keep things legal, they had set the firing range in the far back of the Davis family homestead. Which left a military-style obstacle course, some currently unused horse stables, and at least the length of a football field separating them from the pool house.

The main property was set behind that. Jeremiah barely spared it a glance. “What’s this ‘we’ business?” “You’d leave me hanging?” Ozzie forced a dramatic gasp. “After all we’ve been through?” “Hey, killer witch from beyond the grave; I’ve got your back. But I’m not going against your mom.” Ozzie cracked opened the shotgun, hanging it over his forearm as he reloaded. “Ya know, when you’re a ‘momma’s boy’, it’s supposed to be your own mom.” “I like your mom better.” Thrusting the reloaded weapon toward the slightly older man, Ozzie smirked. “Don’t you dare go easy on me.” Ozzie could never decide if it was more amusing or confusing by the way Jeremiah handled the weapon. There was this almost fearful care, like it was a live snake or something. No one would ever guess Jeremiah was uncomfortable by the way he shot though. They switched places, set their headphones back in place, and the clay pigeons were sent flying. Jeremiah took out both discs with ease. He was a natural sharpshooter. Brimming with pride, Jeremiah yanked his noise-canceling headphones down to rest around the back of his neck and grinned at Ozzie. Ozzie playfully thumped his friend’s shoulder. “You’re getting scarily good at that.” Despite his best effort, Ozzie failed to keep his wince of pain from Jeremiah’s notice. “You’re still sore?” “It’s nothing.” “Nothing?” With impressive speed, Jeremiah switched on the safety, opened the shotgun, and removed the empty shells. He left it draped, open and empty, over his forearm. “That’s not exactly what I would call your training sessions.”

“I told you, just like I told mom and dad—it’s only a workout routine. I might try out for the football team this year.” Jeremiah fixed Ozzie with a disbelieving look. “You hired two former Navy SEALs to put you through ‘hell week.’ Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that the course they specifically designed to be so grueling that people would drop out?” Ozzie resisted the urge to look at his shoes like a chastised child. “Okay, first off, I didn’t privately hire them. I signed up for a course they were already running. There were, like, a dozen guys there. And secondly, maybe I wanted abs. Ya ever think of that? Huh?” Jeremiah’s brow knitted, “You already had them.” “I feel so attacked right now.” “I’m just a little worried that you’re going a bit overboard.” “By getting fit?” Jeremiah looked meaningfully at the obstacle course a few yards away. “Oh, come on. It’s a couple of climbing walls, and it takes up surprisingly little space.” “You only think that because this place is as big as Disney World.” Ozzie took Jeremiah’s huff of exasperation as his cue to change the subject. He tapped the gun and kept his smile warm. “Reload already. Let’s see those awesome shooting skills again.” In a lot of ways, Jeremiah and his sister were very different people, but they both craved approval like a drug. And both of them had been so starved for it that they had no idea what to do when offered it. Naturally, some blushing and toescuffing were involved. “It was only luck,” Jeremiah mumbled to his sneakers, suddenly fumbling to reload.

“Sure, it is, Jer.” Ozzie rolled his eyes and waited while Jeremiah carefully handled the weapon. Jeremiah’s narrow chest rose as he sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t mean to harp on about the training—” “What is it with you and my exercise routine?” “You’re blowing off school for parkour classes.” “Oh, come on. Okay, I cut gym and geography. So what? They’re my best subjects. I can keep on top of them.” Ozzie paused. “You didn’t tell my parents I did that, did you?” “I tagged along with you, ? It’s just… Ozzie, it’s like you’re trying to turn yourself into Captain America or something.” “I’m a Black Widow fan, you know that.” “You can’t fill out the suit,” Jeremiah muttered. A joke. There’s a good sign. Ozzie softened his tone to ask, “Seriously, what’s going on? You know what’s out there, what might come looking for us. Why does being prepared freak you out so much?” Jeremiah finally clicked the new clip into place. “You’re new to this Harvest thing.” “So are you.” “I don’t mean actually getting selected. You’ve got me beat on that, there is no argument here. I’m talking about dealing with the fallout.” At Ozzie’s confused silence, Jeremiah closed the distance between them. They were alone but he still kept his voice low. “You never met my Uncle Hector. He was an amazing guy. The person everyone wanted to be. Smart, good looking, charismatic. Tall, like Cadwyn. Although, I guess if you’re looking at the general population, that’s average height.” His small chuckle sounded so forced, Ozzie’s gut hurt. “He had a beach house on

Long Island and we got to spend our summer vacations there. Uncle Hector taught me how to ride a bike, how to swim, helped me with my baseball swing. He was a really great guy. I loved him a lot.” Tears rimmed Jeremiah’s eyes as he fell into silence. Ozzie shifted so he was standing alongside his friend, making sure that he was close enough for their shoulders to press together. A small gesture that he was here. That he’d be listening whenever Jeremiah was ready to continue. “He got selected for the Harvest.” It was all Jeremiah said before biting his lips hard. “He didn’t make it?” “Oh, he did. But he was never the same. Cranes don’t talk about what happens in the woods. It’s tradition. Don’t ask, don’t tell. Which, now that I’ve had time to stop and think about it, explains why we have so many functioning alcoholics in our family.” With a sharp breath, Jeremiah straightened and turned to face Ozzie directly. “Uncle Hector came back angry, and cold, and scared all the time. He’d have these episodes where he thought he was still in the woods and… things got violent. He never meant to hurt us. He just couldn’t leave it behind. Couldn’t process what he had been through.” A lump formed in the pit of Ozzie’s stomach. He knew Jeremiah was circling his point but didn’t have the strength to reach it on his own, so he asked, “What happened to Uncle Hector?” “He, um,” Jeremiah squeezed his eyes shut and took in a deep breath. “Dad says he went swimming and got caught in a rip and was pulled out to sea. A heartbreaking accident.” “What do you say?” A long moment ed before Jeremiah could open his eyes. “He knew the ocean too well. There was no accident.” Jeremiah scoffed bitterly. “You know, being on the outside of the family, I’m noticing things I never did before. Certain traditions I didn’t know we had. Like, it’s never suicide. It’s an accident.” “Jer—”

“He couldn’t live with Katrina in his head. And we didn’t help him find a way to get her out. The only advice is to keep yourself busy. Keep working.” “That’s what you think I’ve been doing?” Suddenly unable to meet Ozzie’s eyes, Jeremiah offered a weak shrug. “Jer,” Ozzie caught himself before he could instinctively brush the concern aside. Honesty was a bit more painful, but Jeremiah deserved to hear it, and he deserved to say it. “When I was selected, I was useless. I only survived because of the others. I don’t want to be useless again.” “You’re not.” Jeremiah forced a smile. “At least, you’ll never be more useless than I am.” “Hey, you held your own at the farm. People are alive today because of you.” “It was a team effort thing,” Jeremiah’s smile fell quickly. “I’m okay, Jer,” Ozzie assured. “Honestly.” “How will I know if you’re not?” “I’ll tell you.” Ozzie looped an arm around his friend’s shoulders and pulled him into a quick hug. “And you’ll tell me. Right?” “Okay,” Jeremiah mumbled against his shoulder. “I’m sorry about your uncle.” “Thanks.” “I’d like to hear more about him sometime. If you’re up for it.” Jeremiah contemplated that in silence before nodding. “Yeah, I’d like that.” Giving his shoulder a squeeze, Ozzie asked, “You wanna shoot some more stuff?” Jeremiah sniffed as he pulled back. “Actually, I’m a bit hungry.”

“I could eat.” “Shocker.” “Shut up.” Ozzie didn’t fight the smile spreading across his face. “Italian?” “I’m more in the mood for Mexican.” Jeremiah motioned his chin to the shotgun. “One more round. Winner gets to decide?” It was clearly rigged against him, but Ozzie agreed. Although he wasn’t above cheating a little and let the clay pigeons fly an instant before Jeremiah was ready. That didn’t stop Jeremiah from taking the first one out on nothing but reflex. The second shot rang out a second later and the clay disc exploded. Both boys jolted back when a red mist spewed out of the shrapnel and rained down onto the lush grass. Neither moved for a few heartbeats and, when they did, it was only to look at each other. “Are we going to go check that out?” Jeremiah whispered after they had both removed their headphones again. The warning Cadwyn and Basheba once gave him rushed through Ozzie’s head, pushing him into movement. When something seems weird, run. Paranoia had left him looking like an idiot a few times, especially at school. But being alive with a wounded ego was far better than the alternative. Before he could respond, a sloshing sound hit his ear. Once more, they turned. The distance between them and the crimson stain didn’t keep them from watching the liquid bulge and swell. The color of blood, it rose up a few feet before the liquid spilled and a dark limb worked its way free. Its flesh dripped from the slender bones like wisps of ash, and its fingers were splintered points. The arm smacked against the grass, slashing through the puddle of blood and gouging into the earth. The soft click of new slugs slipping into the shotgun brought Ozzie back to his senses. “We should get back to the house,” Ozzie muttered. The runes Mina had put up hadn’t been put to the test, but it seemed like the safest place to be at the moment. Jeremiah didn’t need any convincing. The

second the shotgun clicked into place, they set off toward the horse shed, both now craving some kind of barrier between themselves and whatever monstrosity was clawing its way from the small pool of blood. Sunlight spilled between the wooden slats of the horse stable’s walls. It had been a while since they had kept any horses on the property, so the smell of them had long since dissipated, leaving only the musky scent of churned earth. Both the front and back of the barn had been left wide open, giving the boys a clear view of where they wanted to go, and the illusion of protection on either side. At the very least, Ozzie hoped it would narrow down the points of attack. He split his attention between both entrances, trying to pick up any trace of sound. The stalls separated the area on either side of them. Each one streaked past his peripheral vision as little more than a blur. His stomach clenched each time they ed a stall. There were too many hiding places. Too many chances for something to leap out at them. The further they went, the darker the world became, until each stall was brimming with a black abyss. As he turned to glance behind them again, his hand instinctively reached out to latch onto Jeremiah’s forearm. Jeremiah instantly spun and brought the shotgun up. Shock stilled his trigger finger, but he kept the barrel aimed at the three hanging men. And, in a heartbeat, Ozzie realized that his friend wouldn’t recognize the men. He wasn’t there with them at Whitney’s House when the witch’s cult had come for their heads. That night felt like an eternity ago. Something out of a nightmare that he could tell himself wasn’t true. It was the night he had learned that Katrina had grown a cult within the town of Black River. Ozzie had never felt fear as he had that night, when the cult had descended upon the bed and breakfast. He had thought being so close to civilization and help would have made the nightmares easier to endure. But there was something particularly horrific to know that what he had always thought of as safety was the greater threat. The limp bodies swayed slightly, just as they had that night. Everything else disappeared in an instant, leaving the three men hovering in a blanket of endless black. A slick tearing noise echoed through the hollow building. Blood streamed down the men an instant before their innards spilled out. Jeremiah’s scream made them both start running again. Ozzie locked his gaze on the exit before them and instructed Jeremiah to do the same. It didn’t keep them from hearing the man’s feet and innards dragging along the dirt floor.

Reaching his hand back, Ozzie clutched Jeremiah’s shirt and kept him close as they barreled toward the exit. Sunlight blinded them and the soles of their shoes kicked up the dust as they skidded to a stop. A single corpse dangled in thin air barely a yard before them. A strangled gasp escaped Jeremiah’s lips, and his hands started to shake against the gun he held. It took Ozzie a second to realize why. They both knew the man or, at the very least, had seen him before. He had played a starring role in the vision the Bell Witch had trapped them in, with the intent of turning them against Basheba. He’s the man she cannibalized. Ozzie hurriedly glanced behind them to find that the original three now hung about halfway through the barn. We’re closed in. Frozen in place, they watched the hanging ghost lift his head. It was a small motion but enough to reopen the wound they had witnessed the Bell siblings inflict upon him. They had slit his neck from ear to ear. They had eaten his eyes. As if provoked by Ozzie’s thoughts, blood began to gush from his neck. It flowed down the front of his body in a crimson waterfall. Ozzie could hear it gushing even though it never hit the ground. Empty eye sockets fixed upon them as the figure drifted toward them. Jeremiah’s fingers adjusted against the body of the shotgun and he swallowed thickly. “Make a run for it?” Ozzie tightened his grip on Jeremiah’s shirt. There was still quite a distance between them and the pool house, but he didn’t see any other choice. “Let’s do it.” Jeremiah took a shot at the single hanging figure and the boys broke into a sprint, darting off to the side. Though prepared for the sudden jolt, Jeremiah still stumbled to keep his footing. The grass cushioned their frantic steps as, together, they stampeded toward the house. Jeremiah’s choked yelp had Ozzie glancing back to the stables. It wasn’t the three hanging men that followed them, but the dark creature that had crawled from the blood. Its long claws scraped along the siding of the stables, gouging into the wooden planks. On the edges of the sunlight, half-hidden behind the barn door, Ozzie could only grasp hints of the creature’s grotesque features. Small glimpses of hollowed eyes and extended fangs. Then it was moving, slithering over the ground like an angered serpent. Lungs burning and muscles threatening to give out, the house neared

tantalizingly closer, prodding them on with the hope of protection. They rounded the pool, and Jeremiah had to leap over one corner to avoid falling in, his lean legs making the jump with only a minor stumble. As fast as they ran, the distance separating them from the creature continued to dwindle. Ozzie swore he felt rancid, heated breath coursing over the back of his neck. On the verge of panic, they threw themselves through the sliding door to the house, landing in a heap just on the other side of the threshold. Jeremiah instantly twisted around and trained the shotgun on the door as Ozzie reached back and flung it closed. There was nothing there but an empty, sun-drenched yard. Still, Ozzie could feel it lurking nearby, prowling around the walls in search of a weak spot. Panting hard, Ozzie sunk back to Jeremiah’s side, beads of sweat trickling down his spine. Ozzie would have laughed if it wasn’t for the sensation pressing down upon him, spreading out within him, like something under his skin had begun to rot. It’s watching us, he realized. We didn’t escape. It let us go. He couldn’t think of a single reason why that would be a good thing. “Hey, Mom!” Ozzie shouted into the spacious home. The reply came quickly, slightly muffled by the dull thud of a baseball bat striking a ball and a crowd roaring through speakers. “They’re in the bottom of the ninth, honey. Can it wait a second?” Jeremiah caught Ozzie’s gaze a moment before he replied to his mother. “Not really!”

Chapter 3

Cadwyn’s sweat-slicked skin pricked and twitched as Basheba pulled her firescarred hand free from under his shirt. By this point, neither of them was surprised to find an infant serpent entwined around her fingers. “Hi, Grandma,” Basheba cooed to the tiny creature. “I checked this outfit three times before I put it on.” “What can I say? She likes getting under your clothing.” A small convenience store separated Aunt Edith’s lavish townhouse from the chaos of Bourbon Street, New Orleans. It didn’t matter that the sun hadn’t set yet; the party was in full swing. Music, laughter, and a thousand conversations battled it out in Cadwyn’s ears. The humid air was filled with a mixed scent of food and alcohol. Cadwyn rubbed the back of his neck as they started down the short alley. It didn’t matter that Basheba had the culprit in hand. He still felt something squirming over his fevered skin. It’s getting worse, he reluctantly itted to himself. In the beginning, the sensation had been little more than a twitch and slide. Now, at times, it felt like he was lying in a snake pit. Glancing at Basheba, a memory merged with reality. R upon a riverbank. Water spewing from her lips as her body convulsed. And hundreds of living hatchling snakes writhing their way past her lips. He shoved the thought aside. “Explain to me again why you think that’s your grandmother.” “She was super into snakes.” Jogging to a neighbor’s house, she crouched down to leave the snake in a potted plant. Buck, being very large for a Rottweiler, didn’t have much trouble resting his head on Basheba’s shoulder to overlook the proceedings. Cadwyn waited at Aunt Edith’s door stoop for her to return. Her skater dress and slip-on shoes were a far cry from her usual flannel shirt and boots, and far easier to handle in

her current condition. Her burned hand didn’t have the fine motor skill to work zippers and buttons, and there were still a few weeks to go before her cast could come off. Something she often protested against loudly. He’d been forced to confiscate her hunting knife after catching her hacking into her cast. Reing him, she fussed with the hem of her skirt and repositioned the straps of her backpack before finally noticing his gaze. “What?” “ last time we had the grandma-snake conversation?” “Yep.” “And we agreed that her liking a particular animal isn’t conclusive evidence?” Basheba stared at the door, her lips scrunched up. “Nope. That part doesn’t ring a bell.” “Basheba—” “Do you seriously want to push this while I’m doing you a favor?” Lazily looping an arm over her shoulders, he used his free hand to knock on the door. “You’re part of the family now. That means you’re obligated to come to family gatherings.” “Yeah, but it’s an engagement party for Sylvia.” Cadwyn succeeded in hiding his disgust at that. Basheba didn’t try. “She is the vilest of all your cousins,” Basheba concluded. “As you’ve said.” Sylvia was a spoiled brat, but he knew Basheba’s overall distaste for his family had dwindled considerably since their last trip to Black River. Dozens from all four cursed families had ed the fight and helped them to escape. It had gone a long way in rebuilding some long-burned bridges. She was now actually on good with a few of his relatives. Edith mostly, but there were a few others she had warmed to, and he hoped it would continue. After all, she was a

Winthrop now, too. Three hollow thumps made them both spin around. The afternoon light cut through the shadows forming at sharp angles within the alleyway, the contrast turning a few stray puddles into patches of liquid gold. He still didn’t know what the creature stalking him was. Demon or kraken or some other hell beast he hadn’t considered yet. But it always announced itself with three knocks. Before she could comment, the door was wrenched open. A huge man filled the doorway; taller and impossibly more muscular than Cadwyn ed. The repeating geometric pattern tattooed across the entire length of one forearm was new, too. Mason still had the long beard and hair he had grown out when they were in college. It didn’t do much to diminish the boyishness of his smile. “Hey, Mason.” Before the greeting was out, Mason had already lunged at Basheba and engulfed her in a crushing hug, all the while hollering, “Cadwyn’s wife!” Cadwyn laughed and placed a hand on Buck’s back. Not that it would do much to keep Buck from attacking if he decided that the massive man was a threat. “Why is the stranger touching me?” Basheba asked with forced sweetness. “Because he has no sense of personal boundaries. Hey, be careful with her. She’s already injured.” “I’d never hurt your little missus.” Mason gripped her hips and swiftly heaved her straight over his head, the sudden motion forcing a startled giggle from Basheba’s lips. Watching her laugh and playfully kick out her feet calmed Buck down. Cadwyn was a little concerned that she was maybe lining up a shot to his old friend’s face. “Cadwyn, the weird man just shoulder pressed me.” “I noticed that. Mason, all those conversations we’ve had about personal space?” Basheba released her grip on Mason’s arm, testing to see if he could take her

whole weight. “He’s not even breaking a sweat! You’re lucky that I’m finding this impressive.” And that she couldn’t figure out how to hide her knife while wearing that dress, Cadwyn thought. Still holding her up, Mason tested her weight. “What’s impressive. You’re so tiny. You’re like a mini-wife.” Basheba looked to Cadwyn. “Am I being kidnapped? I’m not angry, I just want to know.” Cadwyn smiled. “Basheba, this is Mason Kahale.” Her brow furrowed. “Your friend from college?” “And now I’m your friend from his college. You married him so you’re stuck with me, too.” Basheba arched an eyebrow. “Who keeps you in the event of a divorce?” “It’ll be a t custody arrangement. You’ll get me every other weekend and holidays.” Mason didn’t see a reason to put her down, so instead, he tucked her against his side and looped his beefy arm around her legs to keep her in place, using his other to drag Cadwyn into a one-armed hug. At this point, Buck was sniffing at Basheba’s dangling foot, reminding her that he was there if she wanted him to attack. “Wow, that’s a big boy,” Mason noted. “He bite?” “Not as much as me.” Mason blinked at her. “I don’t know how to take that comment. So, I’m just going to breeze right by it and get you guys inside. Edith’s been excited about you two stopping by.” “Has Cousin Jeffery arrived yet?” Cadwyn asked. “Not yet.”

“And my day just got better,” Basheba chirped. Entering the house, she poked a finger against Mason’s arm. “Huh. You are muscular.” Mason’s beamed. “Thank you.” “Anyway, who are you married to, exactly?” Generations of living in the shadow of the Bell Witch curse had left them naturally suspicious of outsiders. The rat-a-tat of three knocks followed them into the house. They each twisted toward it. The alleyway stood empty. The only signs of disturbance were the slight ripples that coursed through the gleaming puddle. As they stood there, waiting for whatever was to come next, a thin misting rain began to fall. It looked more like glitter in the twilight hours. The fresh scent of ozone settled on them like a warm blanket. Mason broke the silence. “Is that one of those weird family things I should know about?” “You know about the family stuff?” Basheba asked. Mason’s grin returned as he declared, “I’m Edith’s live-in.” “You’re dating Edith?” Basheba asked. “Good for her. In her nineties and still snagging bodybuilding boy toys! Truly, she’s an inspiration.” “See? She thinks it’s a good idea.” Mason grinned at Cadwyn. “I’ll make you an excellent great-uncle.” Cadwyn heaved a sigh. Mason had been joking about this for so long, Cadwyn had begun to suspect that he might legitimately have some kind of crush on his aunt. Maybe not a romantic one. But there was some affectionate iration there. “He’s her live-in nurse, Basheba.” “For now,” Mason scoffed. “I’m gonna put a ring on it one day.” “Seriously. Boundaries,” Cadwyn reminded. Mason chuckled before whispering to Basheba. “You can call me Great-Uncle

Mason if you want.” “Uncle Mason is quicker. Oh, don’t close Buck out.” “I’ve got him,” Cadwyn assured, waiting for the large dog to slip inside before shutting the front door. The moment the wood settled into the frame, the door knocker gave three sharp raps. Cadwyn gripped the handle until his fingers ached and flipped the deadbolt into place. Small ridges pushed against his fingertips and drew his attention. He chipped at the symbols with the corner of his thumbnail. “These are runes,” he said. Mason tipped at the waist so he could pat Buck on the head. “Yeah. That Mina girl rang and said they could work a treat to keep demons out. You got them on your boat, don’t you?” “Yes.” Cadwyn shook off his surprise to continue. “I thought you were simply going to spray paint them.” “And ruin the décor? Nah, dude. Edith got some metalworkers to rig those things up. And then hired a talented painter to do the shutters. They picked this leafy kind of deal. You barely see them.” “Quick question,” Basheba asked. “Can you let me down now?” Mason pursed his lips. “I don’t know about that. Cad’s told me how easily you hurt yourself, and I feel like I have a protective responsibility as your future uncle.” “Did he tell you what I did to my real uncle when he annoyed me?” It was a question she already knew the answer to. The Witch Caves of Black River held many secrets. Isaac’s violent murder and subsequent sacrifice to the kraken would be left as one of them. The fact that she brought it up at all showed her frustration. Not at Isaac. That man had lost all meaning to her the instant she shoved her hunting knife into his gut. It was suggesting that she couldn’t take care of herself that had pushed on a nerve. She was still adjusting to the permanent damage done to her right arm. It wasn’t the scars that covered her

from fingertip to elbow. She never seemed bothered by aesthetics. Not being able to handle her blade the way she used to, however, was a different story. “Damn, that’s one hell of a death stare,” Mason chuckled. “Cadwyn, my man, you still have a pulse back there?” “She glares, but she loves me, really.” “Even after you gave her that ring?” It took a considerable amount of effort to keep from bursting into laughter when Basheba fixed her dark glare upon his friend. With the cast keeping her left arm at a constant right angle, it was hard to thrust the ring in Mason’s face, but she put in the effort to make it work. “What’s wrong with it?” Mason glanced at Cadwyn for help, but he only shrugged. “It’s an octopus holding a pearl. It’s not exactly traditional.” “It’s been in my family for generations,” Basheba countered. This time, Cadwyn took pity on his old friend. “I’ll just take that,” he said while plucking his wife out of the man’s arms. Before either could protest, Cadwyn mentioned Aunt Edith, and Mason once more began to lead the way. “You’re not as strong as him,” Basheba noted as Cadwyn lowered her to the ground. “Not by a long shot,” he chuckled. Basheba leaned forward as if to share a whisper. “I was kinda taking a jab at your masculinity as ive-aggressive revenge. Couldn’t give me a little headsup about Mr. Cuddles?” Cadwyn dipped to reply in a similarly hushed tone. “I thought he’d outgrown that phase.”

“Still.” She shrugged with her good shoulder. “Really wanting that revenge. If you could be a smidge less secure, that would be great.” “Oh, I’m crying on the inside.” “Liar.” “Guys?” Mason called from a few feet away. “Are you coming?” Cream walls and lofty ceilings bordered the chessboard floors of the foyer. Before them, a staircase curled up to the second floor, covered in a thin maroon carpet. A stairway chair lift was mounted to the wall, with old framed movie posters positioned above its track. Basheba craned her neck and pushed onto her toes to study them as they proceeded down the adjacent hallway. “Is Edith an old movie buff or something?” “You haven’t heard this?” Mason asked over his shoulder. “Her second husband, Vincent, was a Hammer Horror actor. Apparently, he was a big deal in England.” “Not so much over here?” “She wouldn’t have been allowed to marry him if he was. Hard to slip away to the Harvest if you’re followed by paparazzi.” “I thought they weren’t keen on her marrying him anyway. Wait, you know about the Harvest, too?” “How can I take care of her if I don’t know what I’m protecting her from?” Mason countered. The booming knocks cut the conversation short. Buck whipped around, his low growl rumbling out to disrupt the following silence. After a moment of hesitation, Mason pushed past them, slowly starting back toward the door. Cadwyn grabbed his wrist as he ed. “We’re waiting on a lot more Winthrops.” Not releasing his grip, Cadwyn called out over Buck’s volatile growls. No one

answered him. “Leave it,” he told Mason. “Dude, what did you bring with you?” “Something I’m pretty sure will stay in the rain.” “Huh?” When Basheba’s mother had married into the Bell line, no one had thought that the Allaways had their own secrets. Not paranormal ones at least. And they’re a lot better at keeping secrets than we are. It wasn’t until they were in the caves that Cadwyn even heard a whisper of the kraken. The monster that had followed them for… It suddenly dawned on Cadwyn that he didn’t know how long the kraken had been a factor in the Allaway line. Or how it came to be entangled. An ancestor was a witch and made a deal. That’s the most Basheba would ever tell him. She claimed she didn’t know anything more. Even the ritual she knew to curry its favor was little more than yelling out what you want and sending flesh as payment. They had agreed weeks ago to sit down and bare every secret, expose every lie, confess every sin. Then the Bell Witch had returned, and, after the bloodbath, healing had become the priority. She hadn’t suggested they revisit their deal, and he had felt too raw to reopen old wounds. With thoughts swirling in his head, he glanced quickly down at Basheba. If I ask, would she lie? Just because he trusted her beyond reason didn’t mean he was a fool. For them, she would. Her family was little more than memory and ash, but her loyalty remained. And it was far stronger than what he had managed to cultivate. There’s not a line in this world she wouldn’t cross for them. “All the entrances are sealed,” Mason said, clearly prompting someone to break the tension. Basheba’s gaze remained locked on the door until Buck stopped growling. Then she grinned up at Mason as if nothing had ever happened. “Where’s Edith?” “Oh, right.” Mason took two steps before he paused and looked at her again.

“So, there isn’t anything I should be worried about?” “Buck will let you know if there is. He’s a very perceptive boy.” Cadwyn cut in to confirm before Mason could ask. “The dog.” “Duh,” Mason said with sudden realization. “I’ve been told animals always know first. I should get Edith a dog. Company and companionship.” “Isn’t that what you’re here for?” Basheba asked. Mason tried and failed to look offended. “And life-saving care.” Basheba’s attention was on a poster they were ing as she chimed in, “Buck can do that, too.” Cadwyn heaved a sigh. “For the last time, Basheba. Buck cannot replace me.” “What am I missing?” Mason asked. “She’s been bored lately so she started teaching him new tricks.” Basheba beamed with pride. “He’s already perfected wrapping bandages.” “He slobbered over my medical equipment before dropping it onto your ankle,” Cadwyn corrected, only to be ignored. “And he’s shown some promise with the Heimlich maneuver.” “He jumps on her chest.” Basheba turned to Mason. “Which makes my diaphragm work. So, it’s pretty much the same thing.” “No, it isn’t.” “Uncle Mason, you’re on my side, right?” After a pause, Mason proved that he did have some sense and decided to change the subject.

“Well, next time Buck has a litter of puppies, make sure to send one our way.” Mason returned his arm to Cadwyn’s shoulder as they entered the kitchen. A few Winthrops had gathered, but Mason stopped them before they were close enough to be noticed. “Yeah, I thought so.” Cadwyn arched an eyebrow at his friend. “Dude, you’re really warm.” “He’s been running a fever for weeks.” “Basheba.” She snorted at his attempt to chastise her. “You have. It’s like sleeping next to a volcano.” “That’s not the saying.” “But an accurate description,” she countered before returning her attention to Mason. “You’ve got medical training and upper body strength. Think you can force him into a once-over?” “I’m fine,” Cadwyn grumbled. “Cadwyn,” Basheba didn’t bother to look at him as she continued. “The saying is that doctors make the worst patients. Not nurses. So, either produce a doctorate or bend over and cough.” “She’s got a point, dude.” “Don’t touch me.” The words pushed past his clenched teeth with a ferocity that startled even him. Rage and revulsion coursed through his bloodstream like heated tar. His hand trembled violently as Basheba slowly slid her fingers across his palm. It was a hesitation that she had never displayed with him before. “I’m sorry.” Forcing himself to meet Mason’s gaze, he repeated with more

strength, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what that was.” Basheba’s words jarred him. “This symptom’s only been around for the last week.” Cadwyn lowered both his head and his voice. “What are you talking about?” “You’ve been temperamental. I’m surprised you haven’t put your fist through something yet.” Their relatives hadn’t noticed them yet, but Cadwyn still shifted his shoulders in an attempt to create some privacy. “Basheba.” He glanced back to Mason, found him watching, and turned his body a little bit more. “You haven’t thought… You never thought I was going to hurt you, have you?” “No, of course not. But…” “But?” She tipped her head, smiled sweetly and did what she could to dull the cutting edge of her words. “Once or twice, I thought I might get caught in the crossfire.” A hand of iron crushed his lungs. “Hey, it’s okay.” She slipped her burned hand free to cup his cheek, her touch slipping through beads of sweat. “It’s not. You should never be afraid of me.” “Who says I’m afraid? It’s more of a light concern. Look, tall, dark, and socially inappropriate over there is your friend, right? You trust him, and I’m taking the leap that he’s actually good at what he does.” “I am.” Basheba glared at him, and he lifted his hands as if to shield her off. “I’m not interrupting.” It was both unfair and strange for Basheba to look up at Cadwyn with a pleading, puppy dog expression. “Let him check you out. Please?”

The fight was over the instant she had made her confession. Cadwyn hung his head, both defeated and shamed, and nodded. “Okay.” “Good.” Suddenly chipper again, she patted Mason’s shoulder as she ed. “Take good care of my boy. I’ll be back in a second.” Did she just emotionally manipulate me? Cadwyn couldn’t quite make sense of that. Basheba was a woman of impulsive action, not mind games. He snapped out of his daze when he saw her walking away. A small surge of panic made him step forward to follow her, his mind replaying that one moment in time when she was taken by the demon right before his eyes. He doubted that time would ever heal that particular mental wound, but he forced himself to stagger to a stop. Basheba didn’t like being coddled. “You’re not going to keep an obnoxiously intrusive visual?” Mason called after her. “Nah, I’m going to go find Edith.” Catching Cadwyn’s eyes for an instant, she added, “I want to make sure she’s inside.”

Chapter 4

Barely fifteen minutes had ed before Buck’s frantic barking struck Cadwyn like a bolt of lightning. He lunged up only to have Mason block his way. “It’s just a check-up, dude.” Mason used his extra height and weight to push Cadwyn back down onto the dining room chair. “Just relax.” “I need to check on Basheba.” “There’s a handful of people in the kitchen that can look in on her.” Buck’s savage cries continued, chilling Cadwyn to his core even as his bone marrow boiled. “He doesn’t make a sound like that for no reason.” Cadwyn surged up, making it a couple of steps before Mason grabbed his shoulders again. Savage snaps and snarls took over Cadwyn’s thoughts, feeding his paranoia. She’s gone. It’s got her and she’s gone. Cadwyn pushed forward. Mason shoved back, keeping his hold on Cadwyn’s shoulders to try and manhandle him back onto the chair. Without thought, Cadwyn drove his fists down against the insides of Mason’s elbows, exploiting the pressure point to make the stronger man’s arms buckle. He hooked a foot behind Mason’s legs and slammed forward, using his weight to knock the taller man off-balance. Mason hit the ground hard. Driven on by paranoia, Cadwyn surged forward, leaping over his friend and sprinting for the kitchen. A handful of his relatives had arrived while Mason had tended to him. As was the custom in these non-formal events, everyone had congregated in the kitchen, reluctant to leave the main hub of food and wine. Buck’s cries had drawn attention, getting everyone to turn to the French doors. A courtyard gouged out the center of the building and, with the glass doors surrounding it, there was nothing but the people to disrupt his view. Saliva flung from Buck’s jaws as he bound around the pool’s edge, leaping with such determination that he landed with no coordination. Basheba was gone.

The glass doors shattered as Cadwyn forced them open. Sunlight blinded him as he crossed the short distance to the pool. His heartbeat choked him, his hands shook, and the image of her limp at the bottom of the pool lodged in his mind’s eye. Skidding to a stop at the edge of the water, he was both relieved and terrified that she wasn’t there. Buck continued his tirade against the sky, drawing Cadwyn’s attention, leaving him only vaguely aware that someone was talking to him. “Basheba!” The silence that followed dug into his chest like a rusted knife. “Basheba!” “It took her.” Edith’s voice broke him from his daze. Mason, along with a few of the family , had emerged from the house. Moving to an upturned wheelchair, Mason collected Edith and easily cradled the terrified woman to his chest. She looked tiny and frail. The fall wouldn’t have been much, but her delicate skin had allowed a gash to open across her forehead. Thick crimson blood dripped down into her widened eyes. A thousand questions swirled around her. And, while she didn’t seem to hear a word of them, she babbled out a response anyway. “I didn’t see it until it was upon us.” Her voice barely carried through Buck’s rampant barking. “She did. She shoved me out of the way. Then she was just gone.” A sudden scream drew Cadwyn’s attention just as something crashed into the pool. He shielded his face from the resulting wave and crouched low, unsure if he should attack or retreat to close ranks. Buck didn’t hesitate. He sprinted to the pool’s edge and launched himself into the still-frothing water. When he resurfaced, he had Basheba’s arm clasped between his jaws, and dragged her to the water’s edge. “Get Aunty inside the house!” Cadwyn ordered. With something between anarchy and precision, his family burst into action. The house shutters slammed closed one by one, flooding the courtyard with an ominous rat-a-tat as Cadwyn dropped down at the water’s edge. Between Buck’s

efforts and Cadwyn’s long reach, Basheba was soon dragged up onto the stone. Her face turned a sickly shade of purple as she gagged. Her scarred fingers clawed at her throat. Bloody, watery spit frothed from between her lips. Buck clawed out of the pool and braced himself over Basheba, fangs bared, and eyes locked above. Abraham’s demon. The knowledge slammed into Cadwyn, not as a question, but as an absolute certainty. The sadistic monstrosity that had tortured his brother to death was lurking somewhere above them, hidden amongst rooftops and the evening glare, waiting for another chance to take Basheba. Pushing Buck aside, Cadwyn cradled Basheba to his chest and sprinted for the relative safety of the house. She instantly curled against him. A small motion that terrified him. Basheba didn’t scare easily. “Heel!” Buck bound to his side and refused to be separated from Basheba by more than a few inches, leaving them to squeeze together as they crossed the threshold. Neither the muffled chaos of Bourbon Street nor the frantic cries from inside the house, were enough to hide the crunch of roof tiles. The fractured remains dropped like daggers to shatter upon the courtyard bricks. Cadwyn didn’t need to look to know what was chasing them down. He saw it every night in his dreams. Fear forced him faster and he exploded through the broken doors, slipping over the mix of glass fragments and water. His focus had been so narrowed upon getting Basheba back that he had failed to notice the drizzle had strengthened into a downpour. Twisting at the last moment, his hip struck the kitchen island. Pain radiated from the impact as he placed her upon the marble slab. The rune-covered shutters closed with booming thuds, each one cutting off a little more of the light. He ignored the chaos around him as he assessed his wife. Foreign object lodged in airway. Cadwyn rolled her into a recovery position, trying to get her attention. Her eyes couldn’t focus. The wind kicked up, battering rain against Cadwyn’s back as Mason tried to secure the last shutter. The scrape of glass against metal had people rushing to help. In the split-second it took for Cadwyn to get the strap of his ever-present medical kit off of his shoulders, her face had darkened, and her parted lips began to swell. “Cadwyn!” Mason called.

Whatever blocked her airway was pushed too far down for him to see it. He had two crooked fingers in her mouth before he recalled the river. Basheba’s convulsing body. Water giving way to the hatchling reptiles as it gushed free of her lungs. Live, volatile serpents with enough venom to kill. “Cadwyn! A little help!” Gathering his courage, he worked his fingers deeper into her mouth, angling them to keep from pushing the object further down. Nothing touched his fingertips, fangs or otherwise, and he dragged her up, positioning her so he could strike her back. Between her body’s spasms and Buck’s concerned interference, it wasn’t an easy task. Heavy footsteps thundered across the courtyard, the heavy blows reducing the broken tiles to dust. An icy wind pushed against Cadwyn’s back as an unseen force rushed to the door. Mason and the others slammed at the shutter but couldn’t work it over the deforced track. “Cad!” The protective runes hidden within the kitchen’s decor hissed as they struggled to keep the demon from ing through the shattered remains of the door. It became a question of not if they’d fail, but when. “The lever,” Mason instructed as Cadwyn slid up beside him. “Lever?” Something solid slammed against the other side of the door the moment he tried to point it out. “Behind Edith. Mounted on the wall next to the phone.” Cadwyn turned, momentarily distracted by the blood-soaked state of his greataunt. She sat on a kitchen chair, surrounded by a cluster of people who struggled to tend to the wound on her forehead. She pointed a bony finger to the wallmounted phone. There was a small metal lever mounted next to the light switch. Cadwyn almost forgot about his task when Basheba slumped onto the floor, her blue lips highlighting the blood smearing her jaw. Ripped out teeth? Cadwyn forced himself to keep moving even as his stomach rolled. A thousand memories bombarded him at once. The wet tear of severing flesh. The copper taste of blood. The demon had taken his teeth one by one.

While his thoughts were jumbled, his movements were solid. He flicked the switch, and, with a heavy clunk and a whirl of gears, thick metal slats descended over the French doors. Mason and the others held their positions as the slats slowly lowered. They snuffed out the light, but someone was quick to turn on the overhead lights. Howling winds raced the length of the house, creating a ghastly sound that chilled even his fevered skin. Then the metal locked into place and the rest was silence. “Basheba.” He was already in motion before the name completely slipped past his lips. Rounding the island, he found Buck crouched low over Basheba, whimpering in confusion at her weak gestures. After a moment of hesitation, Buck jumped to drop his full body weight against Basheba’s upper stomach. Her tiny frame doubled up under the blow, the air rushing from her lungs in a wheeze. Cadwyn got to her side just as Buck landed again with a crushing force. The resulting wheeze dislodged the object just enough for her to hack and gag and finally force some air back into her lungs. Cadwyn braced her weakened body and struck her back until a bloody clump slipped from her mouth. It fell to the floor and bounced somewhere out of sight. For a second, the only sound within the house was Basheba’s ragged breathing coupled with Buck’s low whine. Gathering her strength, she looped an arm around the Rottweiler’s neck and slumped against him, enduring his rampant licking. Mason broke the uneasy silence. “Is she okay?” “She will be,” Cadwyn replied. “Aunty, are you all right?” The old woman nodded. “I’ve got her,” Mason assured. “You take care of your wife.” Cadwyn kept his movements slow and gentle, but Buck wasn’t having it. Not while Basheba was still seeking comfort from him. He released a low growl that made everyone pause. “Come on, buddy,” Cadwyn soothed. “Let me take her from here.” Slow movements and constant assurances calmed Buck enough that the dog allowed Cadwyn to check Basheba’s ribs for any cracks. She flinched once and

tightened her arms around Buck, burying her face in his neck. Tender but not broken. He moved his light touches to her legs, her arms, the back of her skull, and still didn’t draw her attention. She’s in shock. Refusing to lift her head, he couldn’t check what damage it might have done to her jaw. Mason’s attempt to subtly take some supplies brought him too close for Buck’s liking and the dog gave out a ferocious snarl. “Easy, boy,” Cadwyn soothed. Mason eyed the long white fangs mere inches from his flesh. “Does he listen to you?” “It comes and goes. How’s Edith?” Mason smiled. “Sweet as honeysuckle. Strong as an oak tree. How’s your girl?” “She’ll bounce back. She always does.” Cadwyn forced himself to focus on what was going on around him. “The house goes into lockdown now?” “Newest feature,” Mason said. “It’s New Orleans, dude. Haunted and prone to massive storms. Edith and I figured we should have a failsafe that wasn’t made of wood.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” “After how much fuss they caused with her changing up her will, we decided it was best to keep it on the down-low.” Cadwyn huffed a laugh, carefully brushing Basheba’s damp hair back from her neck. “Anything else I’m going to get blindsided with?” “Don’t worry about it.” Cadwyn’s smile was short-lived as Basheba still refused to respond to his touch. “You’re doing well with this, Mason.” “Oh, I’m freaking out on the inside. But I figure we already have our hands full, so I’ll hold off until later.”

The comment caught Cadwyn off guard. Mason noticed and subtly tipped his head to the side. A face he didn’t recognize sat amongst a few of his clustered relatives. A woman who alternated between weeping and throwing out a mixture of questions and accusations. I didn’t notice her at all. “Who is that?” Mason whispered his reply. “Sylvia’s fiancée, Rayne.” “She wasn’t supposed to be here, was she?” There was a process for these things. According to tradition, Sylvia was looking down a few months of interrogations about the relationship before Rayne would get so much as a Christmas card. It had been a living nightmare to get Mason approved as Edith’s caretaker, and that was a matter of employment, not marriage. “Yeah,” Mason sighed. “According to Edith, Sylvia decided she didn’t have to go through the process now that the Harvest has ended.” “There is still a curse and a threat to the family line.” “Preaching to the choir, dude.” A solid thud reverberated through the house. The lights buzzed, the rain battered against the metal, and all conversations fell into a solemn hush. In the lingering silence, the floorboards of the second floor creaked and groaned. “What was that? What’s going on?” Rayne whispered through tears. A bovine snort made Cadwyn’s stomach drop. “Minotaur.” “What the hell is a minotaur?” Rayne asked. Cadwyn scooped Basheba up, separating her from Buck and making him violently protest. Avoiding Buck’s jaws, he instructed Mason to get Edith and motioned for Rayne to follow. “I don’t suppose you have a safe room you’ve failed to mention.”

“No,” Edith said. “Why? Cadwyn, what do you think is happening?” “Pantry will have to do,” Cadwyn muttered to himself. Pushing the door open with his foot, he tucked Basheba into the back corner, her slight stature allowing him to fit her under the high shelf. The fight left her when Cadwyn leaned back, allowing Buck to rush back to her side. Once she was settled, he turned to help his Aunt. “Cadwyn?” A relative pressed. “You’re not thinking about letting that thing in, are you? They can’t cross the runes.” “Exactly.” The heavy footsteps came again. Solid thuds that trailed over their heads and left the light fixtures trembling. Cadwyn swallowed thickly. “We just locked something in here with us.”

Chapter 5

No one had a chance to keep pace with Ozzie as he sprinted into the hospital waiting room. A nurse at the main desk lifted her head, visibly preparing herself to deal with yet another frantic individual. She almost sagged with relief when he paused to scan the room. He heard Mina’s voice before he managed to pick her out of the crowd. “I’m okay.” The icepack she had pressed against the back of her skull was calling her a liar. Mina followed his line of sight and shrugged. “Seriously, Ozzie. It’s just a bump. If you freak out, Jerry’s going to as well.” Pushing up from an uncomfortable-looking plastic chair, she wobbled slightly. He was quick enough to cross the distance, grab her elbow, and keep her from face-planting against the tiled floor. “Should you even be out of bed? They said you were unconscious. Don’t they monitor people after that?” Ozzie asked. She was getting better at rearranging the melted skin of her lips into smirks. It might not be in the right shape, but it displayed the correct emotions. “I don’t have a concussion, Ozzie.” Jeremiah stampeded through the hospital doors, Ozzie’s three parents in tow, and made a beeline for Mina. He all but threw himself at her. Ozzie had to grab Jeremiah by the back of his shirt and yank until seams popped to keep them from toppling over. “I’m okay, Jer.” A slight laugh played around the edges of her words. “Did you even listen to that part of the message?” Jeremiah pulled back slightly to meet his sister’s gaze. The Crane siblings were so different that it was often easy to forget the strength of their bond. Moments

like these, when the siblings said everything they needed to in a single look, were a good reminder. Tears welled in the corner of her eyes, and her smile began to wilt. Jeremiah took that as the sign to draw her back into a hug. This time around, Mina was the one desperate for the reassurance. She balled her hands in Jeremiah’s shirt even as she whispered. “I’m okay.” “I know,” Jeremiah said. “Really. It was more of an education than a murder attempt.” Ozzie’s three parents crowded around him, preferring to ask him if Mina was all right rather than interrupt the siblings. They took his reassurances while still maintaining a healthy degree of suspicion. A stray thought pricked at the corner of his mind. When did I stop thinking my family is weird? Or at least their current dynamic. Learning that he was biologically a Sewall had completely blindsided Ozzie. Up until the night Katrina had pushed the issue, Percival Sewall had been his parents’ best friend and Ozzie’s godfather. Not his father. Not the man who had set his ex-girlfriend up with his best friend only days after they had broken up. As Percival told it, he knew that Ethan and Ha-Yun were meant for each other, so nothing else mattered. And everyone concerned seemed content with that. Percival placed a hand on Ozzie’s shoulder to draw his attention. “What’s bothering you?” “I’ve got three parents that would take on the devil himself for me. And those two got stuck with a couple of narcissists. It doesn’t seem fair.” Percival squeezed Ozzie’s shoulder and offered him a knowing smile. “I don’t know about that.” “No, their parents suck.” “That part goes without saying,” Percival dismissed before continuing his original thought. “What I meant is that Ha-Yun has pretty much adopted Mina at this point. You got yourself a sister.”

Ethan ed the conversation; first to establish that Ozzie had been rather slack by the way of sibling rivalry, then to suggest that they take the conversation somewhere else. As they headed back through the door, Ozzie noticed a couple of people who had begun to take interest in them. It wouldn’t have been a problem if they weren’t about to start talking about a demonic haunting. Also, possibly murder and cannibalism. After they had been originally exposed to the vision, the boys had agreed to keep the information to themselves, Jeremiah more reluctantly. But the demon was now pushing the issue, and Ozzie was afraid of what would happen if they kept their silence. Basheba and the Crane boy hadn’t started off on the right foot, and, while the situation had somewhat improved, their trust was still a fragile thing. That’s why Ozzie had never itted out loud that he, too, believed what they had been shown. Isaac Bell had made a deal with Katrina. The aspects of the deal were something Isaac had taken to the grave with him, but they knew enough. He had sold out his own family, ensuring that Katrina selected the others for the Harvest instead of himself or his daughter, Claudia. As the bloodline dwindled, he had assumed that his niece would follow tradition. Pump out as many children as possible to keep the line alive, to reduce any one person’s chance of selection. Ozzie almost snorted at the thought. While he had never understood why Basheba hated children so much, he could say that she never hid it. Children freaked her out. Pregnancy terrified her. She was adamant that she would never reproduce, so Isaac had arranged for it to happen without her consent. Sitting on a rock in the dank underground labyrinth of the Witch Caves, Basheba’s actions had seemed reasonable. Her uncle had set her up to be violated in a way no one, let alone a child just on the cusp of adulthood, should be. Killing them to save herself was a natural instinct. A necessary evil. He had envisioned a scared child desperately scrambling for survival. Katrina had shown him someone different. Someone more akin to the woman she was today. Basheba thrived on the hunt. She killed without the slightest remorse. But that doesn’t mean she ever ate someone. The click of his mother’s heels upon the tiles jarred Ozzie from his thoughts. HaYun was the only person Ozzie knew who could run a marathon in six-inch stilettos.

She swept a hand across the street to indicate a hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant. “Come on, let’s get some pork buns. They’ll make this conversation a little more pleasant.” Jeremiah asked, “Isn’t that a little public?” “Jerry, darling.” Ha-Yun had developed a particular tone when explaining things to Jeremiah. Exasperated but adoring. It was a strange combination. “Most people who hang around hospitals aren’t there for happy occasions. I doubt anyone around here is inclined to eavesdrop on our conversation.” “What would it matter if they did?” Ethan chuckled. “Speaking as a relative newcomer to the world of the paranormal—if I had overheard any of the stuff we talk about, I would have thought they were talking about a TV show or something.” “I suppose you’re right.” Jeremiah turned to his sister. “Are you all right to walk that far? We could get a wheelchair if you want. Or I could carry you.” Mina arched a sparse eyebrow and gave Jeremiah’s slim swimmer’s build a once-over. “Okay, point taken. Ozzie can carry you. But for the record, I could get you across the street. It’s called a piggyback ride.” Jeremiah drenched the words in sass until he had Mina giggling. “I can walk, Jer. It’s just a headache.” She struggled to hold onto her smile as she added, “We need to call Basheba.” Ethan, who had been talking to the front desk nurse, reed the group and ushered them all out of the door. “It’s best we go before we draw attention,” Ethan said. Percival only needed a single glance at his long-time friend to get him to elaborate. “Mina’s become internet famous.”

The discussion paused, forcing the questions to simmer in the back of Ozzie’s skull until they were clustered into a corner booth at the restaurant. One deep breath of the lingering aromas and Ozzie realized how hungry he was. Since Jeremiah was a nervous eater, they ended up ordering probably a lot more than necessary. There were a few other patrons scattered throughout the narrow building, all of them keeping quietly to themselves. Ozzie savored the moment of normalcy. Putting aside why they were there, he was sitting with his family in a restaurant, enjoying a meal, with everyone alive and well. For now. He shoved that thought aside and beat Jeremiah to the last fried wonton. “I thought you were eating healthy now,” Jeremiah spouted. His smile grew a fraction when Mina cut in to remind Jeremiah that he was supposed to be cutting down on his junk food as well. I guess I’m not the only one who needs a distraction, Ozzie thought, watching Jeremiah niggle his sister with a mindless conversation. Ozzie was caught between the siblings in the horseshoe-shaped booth. And, when he finally brought up the video his father had mentioned, both of them pressed against his shoulders to watch the small phone screen. Someone had managed to post the surveillance footage on YouTube. In a small act of mercy, the camera hadn’t been the best quality, allowing Mina to keep a certain degree of anonymity. Dread dripped into the pit of his stomach as he watched the pixelated Mina back out of a room, clearly scared. People gave her little attention. Some even walked around her as she stood frozen in the middle of the room. The seconds dragged out, each bleeding into the next, and still, Mina didn’t move. “What are you staring at?” Jeremiah whispered. The words had barely slipped past his lips when the tension was shattered with a burst of movement. Nothing had come near Mina. Still, she flew across the room and out of sight of the camera. What followed was a stream of startled people running in the direction she had gone, and Ozzie stopped watching. “What hit you?” Ozzie asked. Mina shook her head. “I didn’t see it exactly.” “What do you mean?” Jeremiah pressed gently.

With a deep breath, Mina burrowed down into her ‘scientific mode.’ Ozzie saw her do it every time something scared her too much to think about. She sounded more like a police report than a victim as she broke the event down into facts alone. The calm tone didn’t stop Ozzie from feeling disgusted with himself. A quick glance at Jeremiah proved that he wasn’t the only one feeling guilty. They both knew they had seen the same creature. And it didn’t do anything to us. Not really. It didn’t seem fair that she should be the one subjected to that after everything else. In a strange way, the self-hatred dulled the sharp edge of the news. Percival mimicked Mina’s demeanor, as if this was nothing more than a business meeting. “You think there’s a coven?” Ethan glanced around, searching each face for an answer before asking, “You mean the cult?” “No. I recognized a few of the cult hanging in the vines. Katrina’s and Whitney’s cults alike. If I’m reading the symbolism correctly, that means the cult is a part of their body count.” Mina’s voice cracked and she paused to collect herself. “It was explained to me that the Bell Witch, be it Katrina or Whitney, is part of a greater whole.” Jeremiah nervously tapped his finger against the tabletop. “What did you find out at the library?” “Does that matter right now?” Percival asked. “Well, maybe. I don’t understand why the demon didn’t tell me all of this.” Ethan asked why it would as gently as possible. “Well, look at us.” Jeremiah jerked a hand back and forth to indicate himself and Mina. “I’m obviously the softer target. If it had done to me what it did to her, I’d still be in the fetal position.” While Ozzie was pretty sure he jumped onto Jeremiah’s train of thought, he still asked for clarification. “You think that it was trying to scare her into doing something?” “Or scare her into not doing something. I mean, why be direct now? She might

have found out something it didn’t want her to know.” He looked around the group and sheepishly shrugged. “It’s just a thought.” Percival’s brow furrowed. “No, no. That might actually be a good question.” There was no sarcasm in Jeremiah’s tone as he replied. “Ask enough of them and it’s bound to happen, sir.” “Ugh,” Mina muttered. “I always hated it when mom said that.” Ha-Yun got the conversation back on track. “What did you find out?” Mina’s mouth opened before her brain caught up. “I don’t .” “What?” Ozzie blurted out. “Sorry, did that sound harsh?” “No, I get it.” Mina dismissed him with a wave, her gaze focused on some distant point. “I everything about what it showed me. But all the research is just gone.” “Good thing you obsessively back up everything you do,” Jeremiah whispered. “You do still take photos and then email them to yourself, right?” Ozzie cupped Jeremiah’s shoulder while Mina threw him a smile and offered him the last dim sum like it was a prize. Even though they kept the praise playfully taunting, Jeremiah still rolled his eyes, leaned away, and blushed heavily. Mina ended up shoving the dim sum in her mouth while she started jabbing at her phone again. Her frustration grew until, in strange unison, Ethan and Percival both offered a stylus. It streamlined the process considerably. “I set up a Google documents for everything involving the Bell Witch. Although, I’ve let some other paranormal researchers , so I might have sent it to my email first. That way, I can edit the raw information before posting it. Give me a second.” Ha-Yun craned her neck to look at the screen as Mina scrolled through her Google documents. “What’s ghost shielding?” “I don’t know,” Mina answered mindlessly. “It looks like Mrs. Claymont posted that only a few hours ago.”

“Claymont,” Percival repeated. “That’s the paranormal researcher you said Basheba was all excited about, right?” “That’s his mother.” Ozzie paused. “Is Abe Claymont married?” “If he is, his spouse wouldn’t be a ‘she,’” Mina said with the same distracted tone. Jeremiah plucked Ozzie’s phone out of his hand and quickly brought up the Google document that had caught Ha-Yun’s eye, reading it aloud. “Ghost shielding is the practice of using earthbound spirits to deter demonic infestation.” “Ghosts stop demons now?” Percival snorted. “Obviously this guy’s never been to the Witch Woods.” “According to this, it only works if the ghosts were there before the demon. Ghosts tend to be naturally territorial and, if they have the strength or numbers necessary, will push a demon to the limits of their haunting grounds.” Mumbling as he skipped a few paragraphs, Jeremiah concluded, “Yeah, okay, so the gist is that ghosts will keep demons from moving in, but they can’t evict a demon that was already there. Ghost shielding is living in a haunted place to keep the demon away.” “I’m sure Cadwyn told me that the demon followed his brother to a haunted insane asylum.” When suddenly faced with the entire table staring at him, Ozzie clarified. “Okay, I overhead him telling Basheba about that.” “This article makes it sound like a fight. Maybe they weren’t strong enough? Or they might have been too crazy to care.” Jeremiah frowned, opened his mouth before silently contemplating some more, then eventually asked, “Does death cure mental illness?” “I don’t know, Jer.” Mina lifted her head as a thought struck her but didn’t tear her eyes from the screen. “Oh, that reminds me. Someone needs to call Basheba.”

Chapter 6

It didn’t take long for the few bodies to fill the pantry with a stifling heat. Basheba hadn’t moved from where Cadwyn had left her. Tucked in the corner, hidden between two towering sacks of flour, with Buck’s body blocking her only opening to the small room. Her body was curled around her backpack, the contents of which pushed uncomfortably into her stomach. He wasn’t the head of the family, but people had screamed for Cadwyn all the same. Eventually, he had left to answer them, leaving Basheba with a kiss to her temple, and Mason with orders to watch over her. Water still dripped from her hair to trail down her aching jaw. It didn’t matter. All that mattered in that moment was keeping one hand on Buck’s fur while the other shifted aimlessly through the rings on the chain around her neck. They were all she had left of her family. Small mementos that she had pulled from their corpses and protected from Isaac. How many of them saw it? Truly saw it? The thoughts seemed to echo in her hollowed mind. Still, she knew it wasn’t the sight itself that was to be feared. She thought she had felt the presence of a demon before. The sheer hatred and bloodlust. But this… This thing came out to play. And, for the first time, she’d felt exactly what it was, and how she compared to it. She was nothing. A lamb to the slaughter. Its presence was there, lurking in the corners of her mind, waiting for her. She could feel it inside of her. Like a thousand burrowing insects crawling under her skin and scurrying through her bones. Sitting there in the dark, she could almost hear the wet squelch of it devouring her one mouthful at a time. Sylvia crouched down to get into Basheba’s field of vision, but Buck didn’t let the redhead get too close. “What are you doing? Help us. What’s wrong with you?” “Leave her be.” Basheba managed to think long enough to identify the second speaker, a slightly podgy woman, as Rayne. Sylvia’s fiancée. Having named her, Basheba lost interest in the rest of their bickering.

“You don’t understand. This is all she does. If she got out there—” “Stop blaming her,” Rayne cut in. “This is your fault.” “Mine?” Sylvia stood up, leaving only her legs in Basheba’s sight. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. You never told me!” Edith’s hissed command for them both to shut up brought the room back into relative stillness. In time, a stray scream or distant crash disturbed the rain bombarding the house’s metal casing. Cracked plaster dusted them as something heavy crashed against the ceiling. It was never silent. But it was quiet. Quiet enough that they could hear someone coming down the stairs on the far side of the kitchen. The people in the pantry with her held their breaths. Footsteps crossed the room in a series of slow thumps, tracing a path to the foyer. Suddenly, the opening guitar riff of AC/DC’s Thunderstruck blared to life. Panic exploded within the room as everyone searched to silence the source. With both Buck and Basheba distracted, Sylvia was able to snatch up Basheba’s backpack. She tore the Ziplock bag that held her phone and lighter from the front pocket. With trembling fingers, she declined the incoming call. The room fell quiet again. No one breathed. A roar came an instant before horns shattered the slats of the collapsible door. Mason threw himself against the t, keeping the door in place as the minotaur fought to free itself. Screams pierced Basheba’s ears. Buck lunged forward to snap at the hands that tried to pry off the wood, forcing them back. The minotaur cracked against the wood again. The whole room seemed to shake with the impact. Weeping, screaming, splintering wood, and Buck’s snarls all mixed with the bellows of the minotaur. Amongst it all, the song began to play again. Basheba rested her chin more heavily against her knees, cast arm wrapped around her shins, scarred hand sorting through her rings. The horns pulled back once more. The next strike came low. A long sweep that burst out an entire run of slats and allowed the horn to slice across Mason’s leg. Hot blood splattered across Basheba’s face. With an agonized cry, Mason buckled slightly, but he forced himself to hold his position plastered against the door. The blood curled down her cheek to well at the corner of her mouth, leaving the familiar copper tang to wet her tongue. She blinked. All the events within the

limited space seemed disted. Happening around each other rather than being part of a singular whole. A splinter of reality that separated them all into their own little world. She fixed her gaze on the minotaur’s horns as the creature searched for Mason’s flesh. Buck lunged into her vision, chasing down the horns, thereby connecting the two events. Whatever else had happened to the others, Basheba, Buck, and the minotaur shared the same moment. Hooking her scarred arm on the edge of the shelf, she slid herself out. Sylvia spoke to her, her words reaching Basheba’s reality even if the meaning didn’t. It all sounded like gibberish, and Basheba ignored it as she reclaimed her backpack. Buck’s armor was too heavy to carry, his spiked collar wasn’t, and he didn’t protest as she affixed it around his neck. “The dog?” Sylvia screamed. “You’re helping the dog?” Basheba ignored the disembodied voice as she searched the pantry shelf. It was well-stocked, perhaps for such an occasion as being under siege, and it didn’t take her long to find everything she wanted. Her fingers fumbled to open the cardboard box of baking soda, so she ripped the corner off with her teeth. She almost gagged at the taste. “It’s not a ghost!” Another voice screeched painfully in her ears as she poured a thick line across the threshold. “That’s not even salt!” Once more, Basheba ignored it. Retrieving a bottle of cooking oil, she held the plastic neck out to Buck. “Open.” In a single pounce, Buck drove his fangs clean through the plastic and returned to his business. Tipping the bottle upright kept the escaping oil to a dribble as she slipped between Mason and the door. Pushing the neck through one of the many gaps that now riddled the slats, she slapped her hands together, squeezing the bottle to force the contents out in a wild, multi-directional gush. “You’re just annoying it!” “It’s only oil, Basheba!” “What are you doing?”

The voices were starting to annoy her. Basheba grabbed her lighter from the Ziplock bag, a roll of paper towels, and a bottle of water that she tucked under her arm. “Basheba? What are you doing?” She sprinkled the last of the oil on the paper. It absorbed quickly, and she put the bundle to the flame of her lighter. It didn’t take long for the glorious gold to dance and flow across the top of the roll of paper towels. The beauty captivated her. With a throaty roar, the minotaur bashed at the door again. “Open.” Mason wasn’t as well trained as Buck. While her dog nipped the water bottle, the man needed her to start opening the door herself for him to understand. He let the collapsible door buckle and inch open enough for her to toss the flaming roll out. It bounced against the minotaur’s chest, smearing the burning oil against its already matted fur. The sparks were small and rather disappointing as Mason shoved her back in and slammed the door shut. The horn cracked through the wood again. The chaos grew. With a low whistle, Buck obediently lowered so that she could step on his back. The boost allowed her to shove the neck of the water bottle through one of the broken slats. There was something primal about the sound of the flames roaring into life. The scent of burning fur and flesh tainted the air. Basheba jumped back in shock as the gold tips of the fire writhed through the slats. Heat pulsed against her and, while the baking soda had prevented the oil from creeping back inside, the door burned with abandon. Mason cursed and would have thrust it open had he not been distracted by the annoying voices. Basheba watched numbly as panicking people tried to kill the fire with the other bottles of water. “You don’t put water on an oil fire!” Edith berated, almost yelling at Sylvia. It didn’t take the fear out of Sylvia’s eyes, and she struggled against Rayne to douse the flames. Basheba didn’t stick around to see who would survive that fight. The door was unguarded, and she kicked it open herself, shaking loose some embers that seared her skin. Firelight had chased out the darkness the metal shutters had cast them into. Flames clung to the pantry door and worked toward the ceiling. Burning patches were scattered across both the floor and kitchen island, their numbers growing as the flaming minotaur tried to put itself

out. It made the metal in the room dance with color: the sink, the light fixtures, the magnet strips that held an array of spice bottles and a selection of knives. “It’s beautiful.” She made sure to savor it now before the gathering smoke blinded her. Her whisper brought the attention of the minotaur. The twin peaks of its horns poked free of the flames as it lowered its head and charged. “Buck. Go.” Buck surged forward, Basheba close behind. The spikes of his collar looked to be made of sunlight itself as he easily dodged the wounded minotaur’s strike and threw his body against the human legs. The ground shook as the minotaur sprawled out on its back. Basheba braced her scarred arm against the countertop and rolled her legs up. It wasn’t graceful, but she did get the higher ground and access to the knife rack. Buck retreated a few paces, moving in only when the monster tried to get back on his feet. The slick hilt of the knife slipped against Basheba’s scarred fingers as she lined up her shot. Buck sank his teeth into the minotaur’s ankle. It kicked to try to throw the dog off and Basheba saw its eyes glisten like a slick pearl. Basheba held the knife with her burned hand, braced the end of her hilt with her cast, and jumped from the countertop. The hilt slid through her grasp as the blade hit the softer resistance of the minotaur’s eye. It didn’t matter now. Using her cast as a hammer, she struck the hilt, forcing the blade deeper. Screams rebounded off of the marble walls. Streaks of blood and simmering embers splattered across her. Two more strikes and the minotaur dropped lifelessly to the floor. Rather than go the long way around, Buck effortlessly jumped up onto the kitchen island, trotted past the burning corpse, and jumped down to return to Basheba’s side. She gave him a generous pat, pausing only when the song began to play again. She hadn’t noticed the hissing whisper of the fire extinguisher until she turned to see Mason dousing the flames. She was sad to see them go. Without them, the room was too dull. Too quiet. It was a small consolation that the talking had stopped. Basheba walked past the other people without bothering to acknowledge them. Sylvia shuffled out of her way to let her retrieve her phone from the shelf. Ozzie’s voice instantly sounded down the line and into her ear.

“Hey, are you okay?” “I was just a little busy,” Basheba answered numbly. For the life of her, she couldn’t entirely focus on Ozzie. He didn’t seem real. “I’d offer to call back, but this is important,” he said. “No, I can talk.” The words had just left her mouth when Buck began to snarl again. Basheba glanced over her shoulder to see another minotaur standing within the threshold to the foyer. “Can I put you on hold for a second?” Not knowing exactly how to do that, Basheba slid the phone into the space between her skin and the now-cracked cast. Voices reentered her awareness. Yelling and calling and undoubtedly spouting off things she didn’t care about. She didn’t want to deal with it. With any of them. To be reduced back to chattel for a demon and a dead woman. “I’m an Allaway.” The words ed her lips without the need for thought. Long strings of bloody saliva dripped from Buck’s jaws as he paced along behind her. Heat lingered within the room. It smelled of ash and blood and made her heart race. The bulbous cow eyes of the minotaur traced her as she paced across the room. Even with its shoulders hunched, it filled the doorway, a dark figure within the twilight. “Few are my equal. None my superior.” She smiled, baring her teeth as Buck bared his. I’m an Allaway. Her blood sang in her veins. The beast charged. With Buck by her side, Basheba rushed to meet him. Deadly horns lowered, seeming to grow larger as the distance between them evaporated. At the last moment, Buck broke forward and leaped, throwing his large bulk against the creature’s head. Instinct made the minotaur thrash its head up, creating enough space for Basheba to drop to the

floor and slide between its legs. The right angle of her cast hooked around the minotaur’s ankle. Pain sparked along her bones as she was brought to a screeching halt. Momentum swung her around, leaving her to careen into the metal shield. Top heavy, the minotaur stumbled forward, the descent quickened by Buck’s weight as he latched onto one of its horns. Basheba crossed the distance separating them and leaped onto the minotaur’s back. It bellowed in rage, thrashing its entire body in an attempt to crush Buck and Basheba against the metal wall. Both Basheba and Buck had to abandon their grip more than once. But they always returned. Blood and sweat slicked the fur beneath her. Her heart pounded against her ribs as if it was fighting for its freedom. Her cast cracked apart, scattering the phone and debris across the room. Basheba chomped down on the bulbous orb of one of the minotaur’s eyes, tightening her grip until it popped like a grape. Goo flooded her mouth, and she felt its screams vibrate through her entire body. Buck latched onto its throat and whipped his head about, shredding flesh and creating a single snap that made everything still. The sudden drop made her squeal. She scrambled away, barely managing to keep from getting crushed under the lifeless creature’s weight. Catching her breath was made all that much more difficult as laughter bubbled inside her chest. Beside her, Buck panted, his whole body working on the task of breathing. Bit by bit, the terror that had flooded Basheba’s mind began to recede, leaving clarity in its wake. Everything felt real again, and it left her reeling. Thundering footsteps barreled down the stairs before she could sort it all out. The minotaur landed hard, disorientated from the blows. It soon shook it off and whipped its torso around to face Cadwyn. Grabbing one horn, Cadwyn jumped over the beast, narrowly avoiding being crushed by its huge arms. Landing behind it, Cadwyn grabbed both horns, positioned his hips and threw his body weight into one sharp jerk. Bones crunched. The minotaur’s limbs flopped down against the tiles. “What did you do?” Sylvia squeaked. Basheba cringed at the sharp volume. Ugh, I should have let the minotaurs take that one. Cadwyn wiped the sweat from his brow, his chest heaving with every breath and blood trickling from a gash across his stomach. “Broke its neck. It’s all about

leverage.” “Oh, yeah.” Mason sounded as shell-shocked as he looked. “I can see that.” “You are so attractive right now,” Basheba noted. He ignored the comment to flop an exhausted arm in her direction. “I heard you scream.” “After she ate an eye,” Mason commented. “Half at most. Oh! Ozzie’s on the phone. He says it’s important.” Basheba lifted her left arm, gesturing to where she thought the phone had ended up. Both she and Cadwyn watched the last remains of her cast crack away and drop to the tiles. “That is not my fault.”

Chapter 7

Under Cadwyn’s and Mason’s influences, Edith’s living room became a makeshift triage. The contents of Cadwyn’s medical kit quickly diminished as they tended to broken bones, deep cuts, and dislocated shoulders. What he didn’t have, Mason had stockpiled for Edith’s care. There were, however, limitations to their abilities, and some still needed to go to a hospital, mostly for head injuries and x-rays. Basheba protested being lumped in with those numbers until her adrenaline wore off. Feeling the true extent of her injuries for the first time, she grudgingly itted that she might need some help. The original injury had been a hunting accident. That’s how they referred to it because ‘hunting’ was a little softer on the ears. And, as Basheba argued, the fact that she was hunting people to use in human sacrifices shouldn’t change the terminology. Basheba had done her best to keep him ignorant of what exactly a sacrifice to the kraken entailed. He knew it took a death. Beyond that, he was clueless. She seemed content to shoulder the burden herself, even though she wasn’t the only one who had benefited from the interference of their ‘benefactor.’ He didn’t know what else to call it since even Basheba didn’t know much about the entity that had been following her family line for generations. The original break had occurred during one of the final hunts. She had told him that it had been crushed under a man’s weight. Before it had time to heal, the Battle of Bell Farm had seen a herd of panicked civilians stampeding over her, cracking her cast and further shattering the bones. It was a miracle she hadn’t needed surgery after that, and he wanted to ensure that this hadn’t changed. Unfortunately, the minotaur corpses had slowed down the process of getting everyone to the hospital. It was a perk of the Harvest that Cadwyn had never considered before. Within the Witch Woods, there was no need to clean up after a paranormal attack. Bodies could be left where they fell. Now that they were in New Orleans, the corpses posed a few problems. They couldn’t very well leave them to rot, and getting them out of a house so close to Bourbon Street was bound to draw someone’s attention.

Basheba had been a wealth of helpful suggestions, some ittedly far more disturbing than others. In the end, the family decided on burial. It had seemed like a simple solution until the moment they ed what could still have been lurking outside. What had followed had been a round of arguments of who should go and whether or not Basheba should lead the charge. Watching her build her reputation amongst the families had been rather incredible, especially after his brother failed to complete a Harvest. A year of being forced to witness the demon tear his brother’s soul and body apart had scarred Cadwyn deeper than he would ever it to. And more than anyone could stomach to listen to. It had crushed him. Basheba was ten years his junior, allowing him to see her growth from the start. How she had matched every ounce of ferocity thrown at her with equal brutality. She thrived on attempts to destroy her. ittedly, it did make her a little terrifying. Something the families were willing to embrace wholeheartedly when it served them. The problem was that they were approaching a point where they all seemed to believe she was infallible. He hadn’t wanted her to go out there until he was sure the demon was gone. Even the fact that her arm was hanging limply in a sling wasn’t enough to deter everyone, including herself. By the time they had organized themselves enough to brave lifting the metal plates, darkness had shrouded the courtyard, leaving a thousand hiding places lurking beyond the reach of the ambient lighting. Basheba had insisted that she was fine and, with Buck by her side, headed out into the cool night air. After a few moments had ed without her getting attacked, the others had followed, creeping out only far enough to pry up a few broken slats. It was only when it came time to dig that Basheba’s arm flared up into unbearable agony. Cadwyn didn’t call her on it. Digging a grave in New Orleans wasn’t fun or easy. If they weren’t so close to the foundations of Edith’s house, they probably wouldn’t have been able to accomplish the task before the hole crumbled in on itself. Basheba lingered around the graves, only swooping in just as they were about to cover up the last of one. Breaking its neck had left the horns in pristine, albeit bloodstained, condition. And it was those that Basheba was after. The crunch of bone and tearing of flesh left a few people on edge. Everyone watched the sky, waiting for the sounds to bring the demon down upon them. Basheba had reemerged gleefully with her prizes clutched to her chest. Since she refused to release them, Cadwyn had to help her out of the shallow pit. She had stuffed the

horns into her bag while they called for a string of taxis. No one had been excited to bring outsiders into a possibly dangerous situation, but it had been the easiest way. It wasn’t comforting to witness how little interest the taxi drivers had at finding numerous injured individuals piling into their cars. Once at the hospital, they had been separated for care; another thing that left everyone uneasy. The gash across Cadwyn’s stomach had only needed a few stitches, which he had more than enough personal supplies of to take care of himself. He had taken to stalking the halls, trying to keep an eye on everyone at once. He had just rounded a corner when he was confronted with the Davis family racing toward him. “How did you guys get here so fast?” Mina tipped her head. “The flight from Dallas to New Orleans barely takes an hour. We’ve spent more time in the waiting room than on the commute.” Frowning, Cadwyn looked at his watch. He hadn’t felt any of the numerous hours that had ed since he had talked to Ozzie last. Now that he had stopped for a second, however, fatigue crashed upon him like an icy wave. “For the record,” Percival said. “We need to get on each other’s emergency s list. They wouldn’t tell us anything until Basheba was brought back here.” He pulled a hand through his hair. “I sorted out her emergency s myself. None of you—” It clicked. “Edith’s still here?” “Is she okay?” Mason angled Edith’s wheelchair around the edges of the group to get to Cadwyn’s side. Sparing a second to give his aunt a kiss on her cheek, Cadwyn assured, “You don’t have to stay, Auntie. We’re okay. I can send you updates.” Edith had long since mastered the method of patting people’s cheeks. It was a small motion that expressed both love and her opinion that the recipient was a complete moron. “All these people got injured protecting me, and I’m going to stay at home and kick my feet up?”

“You need your rest,” Cadwyn pushed. “And how am I going to do that when my house is full of miserable people griping about their booboos?” Cadwyn caught Mason’s eyes. “Sylvia still there?” “Yep.” Mason hunched forward to balance his forearms on the wheelchair’s handrails. “She’s regaling the newly arrived cousin Jeffery about what happened. Also, he didn’t know until he arrived that she had brought her fiancée along. All the yelling snapped the fiancée out of her daze, and now she’s trying to get her own family and the cops involved. It’s a freakshow over there, dude. Don’t make us go back.” Cadwyn let the issue drop the instant he spotted Percival moving toward the room Basheba was supposed to be in. Moving fast, he managed to cut Percival off before he reached the actual door. Swiftly, Cadwyn waved everyone closer, allowing him to drop his voice to a whisper. “Before we go in.” He checked that the door was still firmly closed before he continued. “Everyone’s been caught up on what happened to Basheba, right?” At his expectant pause, Ozzie offered, “The demon came after Basheba.” Logically, Cadwyn knew that none of them had the necessary exposure to fully understand how insultingly simplistic that explanation was. That didn’t stop the small flash of anger that whipped through him like a flash fire. Cadwyn squished it with a small smile. “I need to stress that this experience wasn’t like what some of you have witnessed. It wasn’t a shadow or trick of the light. It was flesh and blood. She’s going to need some time to come to with that. And with all the implications of what it had intended to do to her.” Ethan cleared his throat to gain Cadwyn’s attention. “I’m sorry. I was given the impression that this demon was attempting to drop her to her death and missed.” Sneaking a hand into his pocket, Cadwyn produced one of the small sample bottles he kept in his medical kit. Blood streaked the inner walls of the container as the bloodied clump toppled about, thin and leathery.

“What is that?” Ethan leaned forward to peer at the sample. “A chunk of a bat’s wing?” “A demon’s. It’s a shapeshifter, but its solid form is always the same. It looks,” Cadwyn paused to get control over the emotions that rose up inside of him like a raging torrent. “It looks like what you’re always told a devil looks like. Huge. About eight feet tall, maybe nine. It stoops when it hunts so it’s hard to tell. Muscles to the point that it could break you with a finger. Curled horns and,” he rattled the container. “Wings.” Mina snatched the container from his hand. “How did you get this?” “Basheba was choking on it. And I don’t think it was the first bite she took.” Jeremiah gaped at him. “Basheba ate a demon? What kind of effect does that have on a person? We should be worried, right?” “I don’t think you catch demonism, Jer,” Cadwyn said. “What about food poisoning?” he countered. Cadwyn paused for a moment. “I’ll keep an eye out for symptoms.” “We need to get this to a lab,” Mina cut in, her eyes wide with awe and her fingers trembling slightly. “What we could learn from this. Just to see this thing’s genetic code would be incredible.” “Can we get back to the point, please.” The words came out sharper than Cadwyn had intended and the group quickly fell silent. “We’re still under a threat that it might come back, and it’s not going to be caught off guard like that again. On top of that, Basheba didn’t have a chance to process what had happened to her before she was forced into a fight. She’s been riding an adrenaline high for hours now, and I’m worried about what will happen when she finally crashes.” He studied each face, reassuring himself that they understood the weight of what he was saying. “No one is to stress her out. No one is to demand anything from her. She is a patient here and she’s to be treated as such.” “We understand,” Ha-Yun said.

Mina forced a smile. “I won’t ask endless questions. Promise. I’ll let her steer the conversation.” At Cadwyn’s attention, Ozzie lifted his arm and rattled a couple of plastic bags together. “I brought snacks.” Jeremiah looked caught off guard, shrugged helplessly, and stammered, “I’ll stand in a corner and be silent.” A small chuckle escaped Cadwyn. “All good options. Thank you.” “Where’s Buck?” Jeremiah rushed to add. “Last question. Sorry, I just thought I could go get him for her.” “He’s in there with her. I don’t know where she got the service dog vest, and I suggest no one asks about it.” They all crowded against his back as he turned to open the door. His eyes instantly locked upon Basheba. Buck was far too big to be a lap dog, but he had put in a valiant attempt to be one. Sitting on the examination table, Basheba absently scratched her dog’s ears and swung her legs, all the while regaling the nurse working on her arm with a lively story. It didn’t take more than a second for Basheba to turn around and beam up at him, stretching her blossoming bruises in a way that must have hurt. “There’s my hubby.” Cutting off one of Buck’s patting sessions to reach for him was a rather unprecedented event, and he wasn’t quite sure if he should find it humbling or concerning. Either way, he crossed the small room, took her hand, and rubbed his thumb over the tough ridges and smooth planes of her scarred skin. Just like he couldn’t tell what had caused the burst of affection, Cadwyn wasn’t able to pinpoint what made it wilt away. He could only watch as her face darkened and she, at last, slipped her hand from his grasp. Pushing down his spike of concern, he leveled a pleasant smile at the nurse. “Thank you for all your help. I hope she wasn’t too much trouble. She can be a little unpredictable at times.”

The nurse was clearly confused when Basheba fixed all of her attention on Buck, avoiding the knowing look she tried to share. “She told me you would say something like that. We’ve had no trouble at all.” Stepping back, she pulled off her gloves and set about fixing up the last few items. “All right, I’m all done. Mrs. Bell, I’ll check on you in a few, ‘kay?” “Sure,” Basheba dismissed. The nurse hesitated at the chilled tone but didn’t comment on it as she left. “Are you feeling all right?” Mason trailed off as he leaned cautiously through the doorway. “That was one hell of an emotional turnaround.” In a flurry of movement, he swiftly collected Basheba’s chart from just outside the door, tossed it into Cadwyn’s waiting hand, and shut the door again. “Huh?” The pages of the chart crinkled loudly as Cadwyn speed-read the information. In a moment, he had tossed it back to Mason and it was back outside, right where the nurse had left it. During all of this, Mason kept his gaze on Basheba, his expression neutral but his eyes sharp. At last, he smirked. “Cadwyn,” Basheba said. “Your friend is being weird.” “Nah. I just see right through you.” “Cadwyn. Your friend is going to get stabbed.” The towering man flashed a quick smile. “Now that could be interesting.” Mason nodded thoughtfully as Cadwyn leveled a stern look at him. Having contemplated the warning, he continued, “I’m going to go all-in and mention that your wife needs a therapist.” “Mason,” Cadwyn’s voice was quiet and cold. “You all do.” “Mason. Enough.” After a heartbeat of silence, Cadwyn turned to Basheba with

a small smile. “Your arm hasn’t rebroken.” Basheba grinned. “High five.” “However, you have bruised the muscles and tendons of your shoulders.” “So, not too high, then?” she quizzed. “You’ll feel it once those painkillers wear off.” “They didn’t give me the good stuff.” Pouting slightly, Basheba slumped. “I don’t feel all warm and fuzzy like I do when you handle things.” Cadwyn schooled his face into an expression of mild chastisement. She still believed the high she had experienced in the cave was the result of a bad reaction to the mild painkillers he had supplied her. Not a deliberate act on his part to spare her from the pain she would have willingly borne. Basheba would endure anything to keep a clear head, even when she didn’t need to. She had made her choice. And, since it was a stupid decision paramount to self-torture, he had decided not to honor it. While he knew there’d come a time when he’d have to face the consequences of that decision, he wasn’t about to let it be the same day she encountered a demon in the flesh. Without looking, he could feel Basheba’s suspicion spike. Like the crackle of ozone when a storm was brewing on the horizon. She was far more perceptive than she let on, and he knew better than to make eye while she was searching for something. So, he busied himself with tending to her almost dried cast and hoped that the others would start a less stimulating conversation. Something that will let her mind rest. The distraction he wanted came when the door burst open, and he instantly regretted wanting it at all. Barnaby Crane stalked into the small room with all the importance of the king he believed himself to be. Years under the curse of the Bell Witch had left the families to draw in on themselves, clinging to old beliefs and becoming nations unto themselves, each one set under the control of a ‘king.’ With a superior air, he thrust a sheet of paper at Mina. Its Tiffany blue backing sheet made it look suspiciously like a subpoena. Mina scowled at her father for a heartbeat before taking the paperwork. Without a word, he proceeded to one to his other child. Then Ozzie. A smirk crossed Barnaby’s lips as Cadwyn collected his. The smile fell swiftly when Basheba shook her head.

“Nah, I’m good.” Barnaby thrust the paper toward her again with a glare that would have sent his children running for cover. Basheba clicked her tongue. “Nah.” “Take it.” “That’s a hard .” Barnaby could barely contain his anger as he stepped forward, paper leading the way, ing just in time how hazardous it would be to his health to actually touch her. “You don’t have a choice.” “And yet, my hands remain paper-free.” “You’ve rendered us pariahs under family law?” Mina demanded in outrage. “There’s family law?” Jeremiah asked. His sister whirled on him. “Did you ever pay attention in family lessons?” “I didn’t have those lessons,” Ozzie said awkwardly as Percival plucked the paper from his hands and began to furiously read it. “Weren’t you two already exiled?” Mina’s voice was tense and clipped as she explained. “Under the laws of the Four Families, banishment by exile and banishment as a pariah are two different things. In the first instance, the original family is forced to ignore us. Cut off and report all attempted on the banished person’s part to the family elders. In the second, all of every family are under the same obligation.” Ozzie turned to Percival. “What? What exactly does that mean?” “It means that no one in the Four Families will be able to acknowledge your existence. You’ll be treated like a ghost.” Rage distorted Percival’s features as he stared at Barnaby. “You have no right to do this.”

“Oh, such righteous fury. May I suggest that you direct it at yourself? You brought him into the family, Percival. And yet you made no attempt to keep him within our laws. Did you honestly believe that there would be no consequences for such behaviors?” “These children have done more for us than you ever have,” Edith said. Barnaby was startled for a moment but soon collected himself. “What they have done is destroy the fragile peace treaty that I and Claudia have garnished with the Witch.” “The ‘Witch,’” Basheba scoffed. “You know, for a chauvinistic pig, you really can’t wait to get back under the control of a woman, can ya? Is it ‘cause she’s dead? Do you have a creepy thing for dead women?” Barnaby kept his gaze locked on Edith. It didn’t stop Basheba from lowering her voice to a stage whisper. “Because it sounds like you do. Just letting you know.” “The Witch’s monsters came into your home. They almost killed you and your kin in retribution for their actions.” Edith’s face remained placid as she remarked, “You are such a little worm.” A red flush crossed Barnaby’s face. All composure was gone as he all but roared, “All of you brought this upon yourselves. I warned you. Claudia warned you. And yet you continued. As a man of law and the protector of my family, I must take steps to ensure everyone’s safety. It is with a heavy heart that I do my duty.” “Yeah, you look really cut up about it,” Mina said. “I will not be addressed in such a way—” “It doesn’t seem like you have much of a choice,” Basheba noted. Barnaby threw the paper at her, letting it hit her chest and flop down upon the table. “Don’t do this,” Percival said.

Barnaby pushed his chest out. “It’s already done.” “Illegally.” Mina lifted her chin, refusing to flinch as her father towered over her. “I am well within my rights,” Barnaby growled. “To exile Jer and me, yeah. Sure. But you don’t have the authority to do this. Did you forget I was taught our family law, too? The head of every family needs to sign for this to .” “Read the bottom, you ungrateful little—” “Claudia isn’t the head of the Bell family,” Mina cut him off. “Basheba is. And I don’t think she’s inclined to sign.” The smirk that curled Barnaby’s lips left everyone uneasy. “Basheba turned her back on Isaac when he was in command. As such, she ed all of her rights and claims to the Bell line. Claudia inherited by default.” “You’ve already made that argument, Dad, and you were overruled.” “That was before Basheba put everyone at risk and heralded the return of the Witch’s wrath. The elders reconsidered.” Mina bit her lip. It was a small victory that her father all but crowed over. Straightening himself to full height, he allowed his boom to echo around the room. “Mina and Jeremiah Crane, Osgood Davis from the Sewall bloodline, Cadwyn Winthrop—” “Bell.” Cadwyn put ice in his voice. Barnaby’s right eye twitched. “Cadwyn Bell, and Basheba Bell—” “So, Buck can stay?” Basheba cut in. Even while the man’s face turned red, he managed to contain his anger enough to continue. “By the power of the Four Families, I hereby cast you out. From this moment on, you will live as ghosts. None of your kin, by marriage or blood, will

offer you comfort or assistance, on penalty of meeting the same fate. May God have mercy on your souls.” Silence descended on Cadwyn’s chest like a lead weight. He kept his gaze lowered, not daring to meet Edith’s gaze for fear that she might choose to speak on his behalf. “So that’s it?” Basheba said in a whisper. “No one in the families can even acknowledge us or they’ll be stuck in the same situation?” Mina nodded gravely. “Just checking.” Pushing Buck off of her lap, she slipped from the table and walked closer to the group. How Barnaby hadn’t expected the blow was beyond Cadwyn. Basheba drove her scarred fist into his gut hard enough to make the man double over with a pained gasp. He was unable to straighten himself before Basheba clasped her hands and drove her newly dried cast into his face. A thin string of blood splattered across the room as he landed hard on his back. “, Barny-boy. You acknowledge me and you’re in the same boat as I am. There are witnesses.” The warning wasn’t needed. The older man could do little more than wheeze and groan as Basheba patted down his pockets, retrieving both his car keys and wallet. She pocketed the keys, mostly on principle. “Basheba,” Cadwyn sighed. “Your shoulder needs time to heal.” “I was careful. Huh. I would have pegged you for a cash guy, Barny. You know, flash it around to make yourself look important. Oh, well. Your credit cards will do.” She tossed the empty wallet onto his chest. “After all, it’s not like you can report me, right? I mean, to report me, you’ll have to acknowledge that I existed to take them.” Percival bit his lips to keep from laughing out loud. Cadwyn made no such attempt. Since she didn’t have any pockets, Basheba handed the bundle of bills and cards out for Cadwyn to take.

“This could be fun.” “Did you break his nose?” Cadwyn asked. “That seems like his problem, not mine. I don’t want to bother him by asking or seeking medical attention.” Basheba dismissed. “Hey, Mason, who is not my kin by either blood or marriage and therefore not specified in, or beholden to, whatever laws Barnaby had just babbled on about.” Mason grinned. “Yes, Basheba, who is not my kin.” “If you happen to see Edith, let her know that I’ll take care of her boy.” “What about the demon?” Edith’s outburst was followed by a weakened, “Mason?” “Well, Mason, I’ve been thinking about that.” Basheba was clearly having too much fun seeing how many shades of red she could make the still bleeding man turn. “About all that stuff Jerry was talking about on the phone. ittedly, I was a little distracted, but I him mentioning ghost shielding. I think I know a place with enough angry ghosts to give the demon a run for his money.” “Where are you going?” Mason asked. Basheba grinned.

Chapter 8

Shivers trickled down Ozzie’s spine as Cadwyn slowly weaved the car along the thin, half-flooded roads. The windshield wipers groaned in the silent interior of the rental car. It seemed like a bad omen that they had flown headfirst into a storm. Their plane had barely landed before a thick fog rolled in. All the wide windows of Roanoke-Blacksburg Regional Airport had become sheets of gray, broken only by the pelting rain and stray flashes of lightning. It was a bit of a shock that Basheba hadn’t had her car with her. Her emotional attachment to the old hatchback she lived out of was easy to pick up on. As it turned out, in the time that had ed since they had last left Black River, Basheba had been staying with Cadwyn, who lived on a sailboat. Cadwyn, who had a lot of sick days saved up, had somehow convinced Basheba to not only come for the Winthrop family meeting, but to make a small holiday of it. They had sailed down, leaving Basheba’s car and the bulk of her arsenal, back in Massachusetts. To the airport security, she had to give up what weapons she had stored in her backpack like a demented squirrel. Mason had reluctantly taken possession of them with the promise that he’d bring them along when he and the others followed with supplies. There was no way to tell how long they might be in supernatural quarantine, and Mina hadn’t brought all of her ‘ghost hunting’ supplies with her. Mason, along with Ethan and Ha-Yun, would bring all the more sensitive things, as well as some food and essentials, by car in a few days. The important thing was to get the people the demon had clearly targeted away from everyone else. At the airport, Cadwyn had insisted on renting a seven-seater, which proved to be a pretty smart move. After the flight, Mina was already in desperate need to stretch out a bit, and the constant downpour had turned the highway into a parking lot. Everyone had been on edge as they had slowly inched along among the other cars. Maybe he should have felt safer hidden within a captive crowd, but Ozzie had just felt trapped. Eventually, they had worked their way into the city proper. Instead of offering some shelter from the rain, the buildings had funneled the deluge, turning the streets into small streams that both created and hid newly formed potholes. There was no way to tell the depth until Cadwyn hit them, and he cautiously weaved the van around as many as he could. It kept

them to a slow crawl along the congested roads. Mina suddenly doubled over, the small action sparking everyone’s paranoia. Sitting up again, Mina noticed the attention and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.” She held her prosthetic leg at head height. “Just readjusting.” “Why does your prosthetic look so weird?” Basheba asked. “It’s a crossover.” “Cool.” Basheba nodded. “Side question; what the hell’s a crossover?” “Hold this while I fix it up.” Mina ed the fake limb to Basheba, letting her get a decent look at it. The length of it curved slightly, allowing her to spring more effectively off of the footplate. Mina’s focus was more on fussing with her jeans leg and stump than the conversation. “Crossovers are still good for day-to-day, but it’s a lot easier to run in than my old one. I thought that might come in handy.” Basheba pushed the footplate against the slip of plastic that divided the two front seats, testing how springy it was. “This isn’t metal.” “Carbon fiber,” Mina replied absently, jerking her protective bandage off of her stump with a solid yank. Basheba tested it once more before handing it back. “Will that thing last if you light up?” “I haven’t been able to test it yet, but it should maintain its structural integrity longer than the other ones.” Mina added under her breath, “Theoretically.” “Theoretically?” Basheba parroted. Mina snatched the prosthetic from her hand. “I can only go on the evidence I have. The last few events reduced my clothes to ash, but my polypropylene

prosthetic leg had been left relatively functional. I was able to hobble on it for at least a few hours.” “Right.” Basheba drew the word out, clearly hinting for a bit more elaboration. “So, by that, I can assume that I burn hotter in my torso than my extremities. I don’t know how big that discrepancy is. It’s possible this one could be destroyed, too. But carbon fiber survives intense heat better than polypropylene plastic. Theoretically, it’s a better option for me.” Basheba ducked back out of sight. “I guess we’ll know after the next event.” Silence retook the car. Basheba kept her feet up on the dashboard, leaving every inch of her leg room for Buck as she gave Cadwyn directions. By her command, they worked through the city proper back into the outskirts. Outside the cooled windows, the world began to wither. The buildings became smaller, the traffic thinned, and the sidewalks grew empty and cold. Everything was decades past its prime, and Ozzie couldn’t spot many attempts to revitalize it. He’d bet that this place had never intended to be part of the city. It struck him more like an outskirt town that had been both swallowed by Roanoke’s expansion and smothered by it. Eventually, Jeremiah leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Is this what you were expecting?” “All the opera houses I’ve been to before have been in better neighborhoods.” Turning his head slightly, Ozzie itted with a sheepish smile, “Honestly? I was kinda envisioning some woods.” Jeremiah pressed himself against the back of the chair, closing the distance between them so his excited tone wouldn’t draw attention. “Me, too.” “What’s up with that?” “I think it’s the idea of Basheba being in a city. It’s like seeing Dracula at a Starbucks.” Ozzie smothered a chuckle. “She was in New Orleans.” “She was ing through,” Jeremiah corrected. “That doesn’t count.”

A distant boom of thunder sent what little life was on the streets running for cover. The following slash of lightning tore the sky open and the rain bucketed down with a new intensity. Business doorways became mere glowing rectangles in the increased haze and what life remained on the streets fled to them. Still, Basheba didn’t hesitate in her directions. Jeremiah’s next comment died in his throat as they rounded a corner and found the glow speared by warm, honeyed light. “There she is,” Basheba tipped her head to the side and smirked at Cadwyn. “Do you still need directions or do you think you’ve got it?” Ozzie didn’t have to see anyone’s face to know that they all shared his surprise. That’s the tone she uses for Jeremiah. It wasn’t exactly harsh, but it was clearly dismissive and irritated. Like it would be impossible for Cadwyn to say anything that wouldn’t make her want to bash her head against a wall. Ozzie had only been on the receiving end of it a few times, during that first trip into the Witch Woods, and he had never heard her use it against Cadwyn. “I’ve got it,” Cadwyn said at last. Entering the ring of light beaming from the Leviathan drew everyone’s attention. Ozzie and Jeremiah slid across the bench seats and pressed themselves against the window, trying to get a better look. The colossal structure emerged from the depths of the storm. A stone goliath almost as gray as the haze around it. Ozzie had expected something practical, perhaps on the smaller side, and just as rundown as the buildings surrounding it. Instead, he was faced with something that had a distinct European flair. Something that looked far older than it was and had been built with the intention of displaying extravagant decadence. The gravel parking lot was full of cars, and the windows glistened with life and welcoming warmth. None of it mattered. Ozzie still got a chill along his spine as they ed. “Ugh, I completely spaced on the concert. Well, there goes the idea of parking there for the night. No loss. It wasn’t the brightest idea anyway.” She gestured loosely down the street. “Keep going. We’ll take one of the private entrances.” “Private entrances?” Mina asked. “What? You never wanted a nice, quiet family vacation? We set up a few ways to get in and out without drawing too much attention. Left at the lights.”

Cadwyn obeyed, and they went through another intersection before neon lights caught their attention. The diner was a small box built alongside a larger, twostory structure. A thin tube of red neon lights outlined the edges of its roof, and its sign, while bright, was too small to read as they ed. A slender driveway ran between it and the neighboring building. Following it, they entered a square courtyard enclosed on all sides by the old white buildings. “Park anywhere.” Basheba was already wriggling into a kid’s raincoat that she had pulled from her backpack. “How long do they normally wait to tow someone?” Cadwyn asked. “I used my real credit card for this.” “Don’t hold me responsible for your mistakes.” Cadwyn idled in the lot, waiting out Basheba’s patience until she huffed and pointed at the building before them. “That hotel has a bar attached, so cars being left here for a while isn’t pushing the norm. Besides, they’re all minimum wage employees. No way they’re paid enough to care about a stray van.” Cadwyn chuckled, “Yeah, that would be your way of seeing it. Other people, however, might be a little more concerned.” She tugged hard on the sides of her brightly colored raincoat. “I’ve parked here for three days before without anyone giving a damn. When the others arrive, you can have one of them return it for you. So, can we go now? I want to grab some sweet potato fries before we head in.” A small, amused smile curled Cadwyn’s lips as she started to wave her arms and exaggeratedly mouthed ‘go.’ They lurched forward. It was a small motion, but it had Jeremiah clutching at the back of Ozzie’s bench seat. Ozzie gave his friend’s forearm a reassuring squeeze, but there was no chance of completely relaxing him. Neither Crane sibling survived interactions with their parents unscathed. Mina always sunk into her own thoughts, while Jeremiah became twitchy and paranoid. A second squeeze of his hand earned Ozzie a sheepish smile, but the taller boy’s shoulders still remained tense. Basheba clearly noticed the soothing tactic but didn’t comment on it.

Cadwyn chose a space in the far corner, under a weak but stable security light. Everyone scrambled to get into the ponchos they had bought at the airport, leaving Basheba as the only one ready to go, and she soon tired of waiting. Buck leaped outside the instant Basheba kicked the door open. “Hey, wait a second.” The door slammed shut halfway through Cadwyn’s sentence. Watching her walk away, Cadwyn heaved a sigh that was almost a growl and twisted around to face them. “Come on, we better catch up with her. Grab your bags.” Ozzie wasn’t the only one to notice the hint of panic that weaved through the older man’s voice. “She’s okay, Cad,” Jeremiah offered weakly. “I mean, how much trouble could she get into in a parking lot?” Cadwyn snatched up his medical kit and hissed through his teeth. “The last time I let her out of my sight, she was attacked by a demon.” “Actually, the last time, she got medical attention from what seemed to be a very nice nurse.” Jeremiah cringed under Cadwyn’s glare. “I’m just trying to help.” “I know you’re worried about her, but she’s in a good mood.” Mina eyed Cadwyn and offered a small smile. “She’s handling it well.” Shock crossed Cadwyn’s face. “You can’t be that blind. She’s been off.” “She’s always been rather brutal,” Mina protested. “Emotionally honest,” Cadwyn corrected as he shoved his door open. “She keeps her thoughts to herself, but what she’s feeling has always been on display for the world to see. Can any of you honestly say you know where she is emotionally right now? Because I can’t.” Jeremiah looked at Ozzie, silently pleading for him to say something. A soft sound wafted into the car, and he latched onto it because he couldn’t think of anything else.

“Hear that? She’s laughing.” For a second, they twisted in their seats and watched her play with Buck in the growing puddles. Cadwyn was quick to counter his argument. “We have Barnaby’s credit card, and she hasn’t suggested we use it. At all.” Mina paused. “I will it that is disturbing.” “Guys.” Jeremiah jerked his chin in the direction Basheba had gone, drawing everyone’s attention to the fact that the blonde was about three steps from slipping out of sight. Cadwyn cursed under his breath and jumped out of the van. The rain battered their thin ponchos as they hurried to follow. After such a long period of inactivity, Mina was stiff all over and it took time to get her out. Even though he could still hear Cadwyn’s and Basheba’s voices, Ozzie couldn’t keep down the little spike of panic at having them both out of his sight. He tried not to let it show on his face as he got the Crane siblings organized enough to follow. Despite his efforts, it didn’t take long for Jeremiah to pick up on it and mirror it back to him, albeit for a different reason. “Is anyone else a little concerned about what happened with my dad back there? I’m worried and I really need someone else to freak out with me.” They only had a bag each, and Ozzie made sure to take Mina’s so Jeremiah could focus more on keeping her balanced while the knots were worked out of her muscles. “It’s not that bad for me,” Ozzie itted. “I still have my parents.” “And I doubt that most of the families will abide by it,” Mina remarked. When they both turned to her, she continued. “I don’t think he understands how much the battle of Bell Farm changed things. For once, the families weren’t dragged into it under the threat of death. We went in on our own , prepared and able to fight together, and we were relatively successful. For once, we weren’t the victims. That’s a liberating thing. If Dad thinks an experience like that hasn’t changed things, he’s an idiot.”

“He did get the people he needed to the vote,” Jeremiah said meekly. Mina perked up. “Technically, he only needed three votes. Two, given that he practically forged the Bell vote. Seeing as how neither Edith nor Percival knew anything about it, he clearly didn’t consult all the elders. If he kept it to Jeffery and Claudia exclusively, most of our families might not even know what’s happened, let alone back him.” Confidence slowly trickled into Jeremiah’s voice as he spoke. “Now that I think about it, this is a politically suicidal move. I mean, Dad’s never been called up. If he convinces everyone that Katrina is truly back, they’re going to be scared. They’re going to want every seasoned veteran they can muster. Losing a few wouldn’t hurt him too much. But kicking out Mina, the girl who killed Katrina, and the two guys who helped bring that situation about? Not to mention losing Basheba. She’s, well, she’s Basheba. Dad always talked about her like she was a rabid Pitbull. Not something you want around unless it’s focused on your enemy. And Cadwyn. People love Cadwyn; he’s knowledgeable and soothing, and he’s been there to the end of every Harvest. Losing him alone would be a blow to morale that a lot of people won’t bounce back from.” They were already following the pair before Jeremiah noticed Mina’s arched eyebrow. “What?” “I didn’t think about that last one.” Jeremiah shrugged sheepishly. “Yeah, well, I guess Mom and Dad had it right. I’m too dumb to rule, but I think I would have rocked being a puppet ruler.” Before Mina could counter the argument, Cadwyn’s voice cut across the distance and rain. He stood by the diner’s entrance, holding the door open with one hand and urging them to catch up with the other. The man made sure everyone was inside before shutting the door and muffling the sound of the rain. They took a moment to shake the water off of their plastic casings, trying and failing to contain the mess, before taking a good look at their surroundings. The place was a lot longer than it was wide, with a row of stools pressed up against the counter that ran the length of the place. It was rundown but clean and, most importantly, dry. And it was empty, except for them. Basheba had already taken

a stool near the , and Buck seemed torn between exploring and keeping close to her dangling legs. Not keen on sitting again any time soon, Ozzie decided to lean against the counter while perusing the menu. It was hard to find anything that wasn’t deepfried or smothered in cheese. There wasn’t much to give him hope that the coffee would be good but decided that the caffeine fix would make it worth it. Cream and sugar fix a lot, he silently reasoned and pulled the preplaced mug closer. Soon, he was tapping his index fingers against the side of the mug. No one came out to greet them. The kitchen was set off in the back and it remained silent for a long time. “Um, hello? Sorry, are you closed?” Metal clattered against metal, making Jeremiah jump and clear his throat. He looked a little nervous as he whispered, “What did I say?” Mina patted his arm but said nothing. Another loud clash preceded a waitress emerging from the back. Walking rather stiffly, the woman came to stand before them, a wide smile on her face and a steaming pot of coffee clasped in her hand. “Hello,” Jeremiah said with perky cheerfulness, desperately trying to smooth any aggravation he might have incurred. Ozzie tried to keep the secondhand cringe from showing on his face. “May I have some coffee?” The woman’s smile didn’t falter. It continued to tensely stretch the skin of her face as she stared straight ahead. Then, with an unblinking gaze, she tipped her wrist and began to fill his mug. Ozzie leaped back as the dark liquid spilled over the edge and began to pool against the counter. Unfazed, the waitress continued to pour, her unnerving smile never faltering. There was no need for discussion. With three long strides, Cadwyn was at the door, holding it open and all but shoving everyone back out into the storm. Basheba led the charge down the street. Sunlight pushed against the dense clouds to turn the air a gunmetal gray. The rain drenched Ozzie’s hair, reminding him to yank up the hood of his poncho. The moment he pulled it up, he pushed it back down, unnerved by the way the thin plastic cut off his peripheral vision. It wasn’t until they were at the end of the street that he dared to look back. The lights of the diner made the rain glow in patches. Water gurgled along the

gutters, and the city lay cold and barren around them. Basheba lingered under the corner streetlight. Turning slowly, she carefully scanned the area, searching for where the true attack might come from. Her burned hand twitched restlessly, grasping for the knife that she didn’t have with her anymore. They closed ranks. Buck’s growl put Ozzie on edge just as much as his unfocused attention. The dog couldn’t settle his gaze on any one point, as if whatever he saw kept moving rapidly from one side of the street to another. “Can we make it to the entrance?” Cadwyn asked. “Duh.” Basheba took a step down the next street and almost instantly paused. The group closed the minimal distance so they could see around the edge of the building. There was too much space separating them from the solitary figure for Ozzie to see its face. But the waitress uniform was a dead giveaway. “How did she get there?” Jeremiah whispered as Basheba backed up a step, her hand clawing at thin air. “I’m more concerned about what she’s waiting for,” Mina replied. Without saying a word, Basheba turned on her heel, crossed the road, and continued down the path they were on. Cadwyn swiftly positioned himself between the waitress and the others as they hurried to catch up. The height and width of the older man’s body blocked most of Ozzie’s view. He was only able to catch a glimpse of her when Cadwyn lifted an arm to press a stabilizing hand to Mina’s back. The woman didn’t give the slightest sign that she recognized them avoiding her, let alone move to stop them. Water poured over her motionless body as she simply stood there. Even across the distance, Ozzie could see the slip of white of the woman’s stretched smile. Once they were on the opposite sidewalk, Cadwyn looked down at Mina. “Are you good for this?” Mina nodded and the group broke into a run, quickly catching up to Basheba. The combination of her height and the brightly colored raincoat made her look like a child from behind. That little fact only occurred to him when a random ing car slowed to a crawl as it ed, the driver eyeing them with suspicion. His heart slammed against his ribs as images flooded his head. Nothing good

could come from an outsider getting involved. Move along, buddy, he mentally begged. We’re just an average bunch of people chasing a kid down a city street. Nothing to worry about. If the panic didn’t show on his face, he was sure it was written all over Jeremiah’s. Please let the rain wall hide it. He wasn’t sure who he was begging, but they were nice enough to listen, and the car continued down the road. Ozzie didn’t take his eyes off of it until the headlights disappeared into the haze. Basheba glanced behind to check that they were still there before cutting diagonally across the next intersection. Gutter water filled Ozzie’s shoes as they kept on her heels. Fear spiked through his blood when he spotted the waitress again. She stood positioned as she had been before, grinning and motionless and closer this time. Basheba sprinted toward her before darting quickly into a back alley. A cold lump of dread formed in Ozzie’s stomach as he forced himself to follow her steps. An instant before the alley walls blocked his view, he spotted the waitress snap her head around to face them, her smile growing. “Where are we?” Jeremiah asked between panted breaths. It was then that Ozzie realized he was completely lost. It doesn’t matter, he told himself sharply. As long as Basheba was in sight, it would all be fine. Rain pattered noisily against Ozzie’s poncho, the monotonous thundering muffling the ambient noise of the street. Ozzie slowed before he realized why. A clicking rattle drifted on the wind, and it was steadily getting louder. “Guys!” Mina’s scream had everyone twisting around without breaking stride. The body of the waitress was still out of sight, but her head was chasing them. Shredded skin and tendons flapped against the cracking vertebrae of her neck. Each time the bones splintered, another formed, creating a series of rapid, popping clicks. Blood dripped from the exposed bones as the head closed in on them, her teeth bared and sharp. It bore down, aiming for Mina’s shoulder. Throwing herself to the side, she avoided the attack but slammed into Cadwyn, sending them both staggering into the alley wall. “Hey!” Ozzie wrapped the strap of his backpack around his hand as he rushed toward them.

It didn’t have much weight to it, but he got enough force behind it to make it hurt. The long neck bowed under the strike and released a splattering of blood that instantly filled the air with a rancid, copper stench. Rain quickly diluted the crimson liquid, washing it away into the growing puddles, but still, the smell remained. Ozzie’s stomach heaved. Bile splashed the back of his throat, the acidic burn making him gag. “Jerry!” Basheba shouted from deeper in the alley. “You got a belt?!” Shocked and body spasming as he tried not to vomit, Ozzie wondered how there could be so much blood from such a light hit. The head took advantage of the weakness and struck again. Cadwyn swiftly intercepted the attack. Using his duffle bag as a shield, Cadwyn held the head back until Ozzie could get a hold of himself. Mina slipped past Ozzie’s peripheral vision, racing to the others as Cadwyn and Ozzie were forced back. The head followed their retreat, snapping and snarling, the bright smile still in place. Out of the corner of his eyes, Ozzie spotted the others gathered around a stormwater drain. Basheba looped Jeremiah’s leather belt through the grating, attached it to Buck’s spiked collar, and commanded the huge dog to back up. Buck struggled for a moment before the metal gave way. It flipped over and scraped against the concrete. Basheba quickly undid the belt and jerked to the opened hole with her chin. “Hop in, Jerry.” Jeremiah cast Ozzie a helpless look but nodded and obeyed. Mina followed without prompting. “Any time now guys!” Basheba shouted. The strap of Ozzie’s bag tightened painfully around his palm as he lunged past Cadwyn and swung at the woman’s head again. The bag banged against its cheek and forced it into the alley wall. The exposed bones of its neck clicked together like a rattlesnake’s tail, and its skull cracked hard against the stones. A gargled scream escaped the mangled mouth, blood frothing from the corners. The creature retreated back down the alley and out of sight, leaving another burst of the sickening stench. Ozzie retched, dropping to his knees to heave stomach fluids into the blood-soaked water. It enraged him even as it made him tremble. He thought he had conquered his fear of blood. He could handle it at a distance

or in smaller doses, but all it took was the smell to leave him trembling. Thick paws stirred the water beside Ozzie’s hand. Buck’s low growl echoed under the pulsating rain, and he forced his gaze up. The waitress stood at the mouth of the alley, her elongated spine coiling like a snake ready to strike, her uniform stained with blood. Bits of her skull dropped to the ground as her body began to ripple and twitch. Random places bulged while others shrank. Her legs bowed as she staggered a step toward them. The wet sound of tearing flesh came a second before the fabric ripped and a leathery, blood-soaked wing unfurled from her spine. “You guys need an engraved invitation?!” Basheba shrieked the words. It was the terror in her voice more than the volume that jolted Ozzie from his shocked stupor. She’s terrified. She’s actually terrified. The knowledge made his hands shake. Rather than getting up and putting his back to whatever was coming for them, Ozzie threw himself onto his ass and scrambled backward, Cadwyn keeping pace beside him. Deep, mocking laughter followed him. The moment they were close enough, Basheba ordered Buck to leap into the hole within the concrete. He obeyed without fear, Cadwyn followed, and Basheba all but shoved Ozzie inside before jumping down herself, one hand still clutching Jeremiah’s belt. It dragged the grating over the concrete, but it didn’t fall into place. One edge protruded up while the other dipped down toward them. Only Cadwyn was tall enough to grasp it and shove it back into place. There wasn’t room to move and, in his haste, Ozzie ended up taking an elbow to his eye. Pain blurred his vision, and rainwater poured down upon them. The demon threw itself against the grating, its rotting arms snaking through the bars to claw at them. “Get down!” They all dropped onto their knees at Cadwyn’s command. Only he remained standing, dodging the attacks as best he could while attempting to keep the grate in place. “How far to the entrance?” Jeremiah asked. Basheba draped herself over her dog so she could batter at the walls, her hands hitting harder and faster when Cadwyn’s pained hiss broke over the gargling deluge.

“It’s right here. Short trip, quick drop, and then we’ll just have to leg it to the reef.” “What’s the reef?” Mina barely got the word out between her clenched teeth. Basheba’s answer came more by reflex than a conscious decision. “The private quarters under the Leviathan.” Pressed against the muck lining the bottom of the stormwater drain, Ozzie watched as Basheba continued to batter the stones until she found what she was looking for. Her fingers clawed at the mortar between the bricks. It crumbled with surprising ease, and she ripped the bricks out, tossing them onto the others where they huddled. Ozzie shielded his head with one arm and quickly looked at the drain, praying for just a bit of space that they could retreat to. The tunnel was too small for even Basheba to fit. Cadwyn hissed again, his poncho ripping as the demon’s claws slashed across his shoulder. Trying to get out of the way, he stepped on Jeremiah’s hand and kicked Mina in the side, but he never let go of the grating. The three of them cowered against the walls to give him every inch of space they could. Bloody water rained down upon him, tainting the already rancid air with the copper stench. Even through the plastic of his poncho, he could feel it against his skin, seeping into his pores. “Ozzie.” The distorted, hissing voice made him snap his head up. The demon still wore the woman’s face, though it was twisted and deformed now. Its broken jaw distorted its face into a ghastly smile. Dead eyes locked on him as its tongue flopped around the words. “Poor little Ozzie. Are you scared?” The demon pressed its face against the bars. Bones cracked as it pushed harder. Flesh peeled back from its skull as it forced its way through the few inches of space. Blood gushed free to splatter across Ozzie’s chest, unleashing within him a firestorm of panic and revulsion. The grate vibrated and jerked, almost slipping out of place each time Cadwyn tried to pound the slender head back. Ozzie watched in horror as the bloodied creature smiled at him, its ears ripping off as its head slid deeper, blood running over the deformity of its face. Its long tongue coiled as it went to speak. “Can you smell it?” the demon asked, inhaling deeply as if in bliss.

Without thought, Ozzie latched onto the nearest brick and hurled it at the monster. Laughter ricocheted around the tiny space as it struck and crushed the demon’s skull further. In one brief, panicked moment, Ozzie watched as the flow of blood increased to impossible levels. Terror pressed down on his chest like an iron weight, cutting off his breath. And still, the creature came. “Here.” Jeremiah pressed a brick into Ozzie’s cold, trembling hand. “You’ve got the better arm. Throw it!” Each time he sent one brick flying, one of the Crane siblings would offer him another. They all crushed the demon’s skull a little more, but the laughter never stopped. Basheba called for Cadwyn. Looking over, Ozzie realized that she hadn’t been creating a hole but merely exposing the opening of a trap door. Holding it carefully, she flattened herself in the minimal space between Buck and the wall. Arching an eyebrow, she eyed Cadwyn carefully and warned, “Get low. Really low.” Cadwyn didn’t hesitate and dropped down, painfully crushing the three of them into the muck even while he tried to position himself to shield them. The grating tore free and the mangled, deformed creature slithered down toward them, its neck already extending. Its fangs remained upon the broken fragments of the thing’s jaw, and Ozzie couldn’t tear his gaze away from them. Basheba wrenched the trap door open. Something clicked. A pressurized twang came a second before a hailstorm of arrows. The bolts thundered into the demon’s body, their clawed tips shattering once they entered to increase the damage. They shredded the neck and head apart, spewing blood and chunks of flesh over the walls and concrete floor, adding to the rain and almost making Ozzie hurl. The demon screamed shrilly as it toppled backward and disappeared from sight. The moment of relief was lost when a mournful cry rose up from below. The deep baritone rumble gathered strength as it rose to a high squeal and then toppled back again. A whale’s call, Ozzie’s frazzled brain supplied. But he knew that whatever was making the sound was far, far larger than any whale. The sound rose again until the walls trembled with it.

“It’s waking up,” Basheba muttered, her eyes widening with fear. The statement brought on a flood of horrified questions that there wasn’t time for Ozzie to voice. Already, the demon had begun to drag itself back into sight, fury burning from the one eye that remained intact as its ravaged flesh knitted back together. Basheba slipped out from under the open trap door and almost frantically waved everyone inside. Tar-like shadows filled the opening, creating an impenetrable darkness that made it impossible to see where the ‘drop’ she had mentioned would be. Mina didn’t comment on how narrow it seemed to be, but, by the trembling of her body, Ozzie could tell her claustrophobia was rearing up. “I’ll go first,” Ozzie whispered and slipped out from under Cadwyn. “Watch your step,” Basheba warned a split-second before Ozzie jumped inside and plummeted into the bottomless abyss.

Chapter 9

Mina wasn’t prepared to hit the net. The latticework of rope cradled her even as her limbs slipped through the gaps. The boys called her from the consuming darkness, leading her on until their hands could latch onto her. Together, they dragged her a few feet and out of the way of the next falling body. The bounce and roll of the net almost sent her back to where she had started. A heartbeat later, a gruff bark and another thud announced Buck’s arrival. Looking up, she saw Basheba leap into the abyss, her body a silhouette against the minimal light and the toppling rain. Then the trap door slammed shut and they were once more plunged into darkness. The small woman was laughing by the time she hit the net. “Basheba?” Cadwyn asked. “Right here.” The rapid trembling of the net brought Basheba’s giggle back into full-blown laughter. It was well known by now that she kept a stockpile of glowsticks in her backpack. After a few moments of chaotic rustling, Cadwyn managed to free one and brought a soft green glow to the surrounding area. “Are you all right?” Cadwyn asked. “Are you hurt? Basheba smiled and slid herself into a sitting position. “I’m fine. You worry way too much.” She began to scoot to the side, leaving Cadwyn to stare after her in shock. There was a fine tremor in his voice as he called after her. “If we had an escape route, why did we hesitate? It got too close.” “I wanted to hurt it. Besides, I’m not afraid to die. If you are, stop projecting your issues onto me.” No one was prepared for Cadwyn to lunge forward. One hand latched onto her hair, the other wrapped around her neck, and he hurled her back against the

netting. Buck’s savage barks were the only thing to break the stunned silence. The dog’s struggle with the netting was the only thing that kept him from sinking his fangs into Cadwyn’s shoulder. Wide-eyed and breathless, Basheba stared at Cadwyn as he closed in on her. “You think it will just kill you and that will be it?” he snarled through clenched teeth. “It doesn’t kill you, Basheba. It will keep you alive. Long after your body and mind should have given up, it will keep you alive. You’ll be alive as gangrene sets and you rot from the inside out. You’ll be alive as bugs nest in what remains of your flesh. You’ll be alive until I have to put you down!” His voice echoed while he struggled to catch his breath. The whole world seemed to fall into silence as the weight of his comments settled upon them. That’s our future. The thought sat like a branding iron against Mina’s brain. Cadwyn’s descriptions took shape despite her best efforts to keep them from her mind’s eye. Her skin itched with phantom insects and her lungs squeezed tight. If it gets us, that’s how we’re going to die. “Cadwyn.” Basheba’s whisper broke him. Shaking, he choked out the words. “I’m not doubting your abilities. I’m not asking you to be anything that you’re not. I just need you to realize the danger you’re in. I need you to it that you have at least some fear. I need you…” He crumbled forward until his forehead rested upon Basheba’s stomach. By the green hue, Mina could see the fine tremors surging up and down his arm. His grip on Basheba loosened, but neither one of them attempted to break the connection. “Don’t make me go through this again, Basheba. Please.” Basheba rested her burned hand against the back of his neck. “It’s okay.” The pained noise that left him broke Mina’s heart. “No, it’s not. That’s what I’m trying to get you to understand.” “Well, maybe it’s not right now, but I’ll make it okay.”

Cadwyn scoffed and reared his head. “Can’t you just be careful? Even just mumble once that you’re afraid?” “Of course, I’m afraid, Cad. That’s why I’m doing this. It’s like Grandma always used to say; take what scares you and destroy it.” “Basheba—” “I made you a promise, ? I’ll slaughter whatever gets in our way. I don’t know why you’re surprised that this demon is included in that.” “You can’t kill a demon with brute force, Basheba. It heals.” The soft, bitter sigh that slipped his lips spoke of a thousand failures on that regard. “It always heals.” “Well, hurting it can be my hobby until Mina comes up with a better plan.” Mina jolted at being so abruptly thrust into the conversation. It hadn’t been long since Cadwyn had requested her help with the research, and already her failure to provide any helpful information gutted Mina. Cadwyn had done so much for her, had kept her alive and sane, and this was the one thing he had ever asked in return. It was an impossible request, but she still felt like she was letting him down. Basheba cupped a hand under Cadwyn’s chin and jerked his head up to meet her gaze. “When have I ever lied to you?” “You lie all the time.” “Not to you.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Omitting and lying aren’t the same thing, Cad.” “Well, they sure are kissing cousins,” Cadwyn mumbled. Basheba’s laugh broke some of the tension that had encased them. Without it, Cadwyn seemed to come back to himself. Pure horror twisted up his face as he jerked his hands back.

“Oh, God. Basheba. I’m so sorry.” She propped herself up on one elbow, her brow furrowed and her eyes wandering. “For what?” “For what? I never should have put my hands on you like that. It’s unforgivable.” It didn’t sit right with Mina how amused Basheba was with that comment. Between giggling and fumbling her way to the edge of the net, she found time to playfully taunt him. Most of it was along the lines of her not being made of glass and he was going to have to put more effort into it if he wanted to scare her. “I don’t want to scare you,” Cadwyn protested, his voice cracking with selfdisgust. “And I don’t ever want to hurt you.” Flopping onto her stomach at the edge of the net, she offered him a real smile. “Cadwyn, I’m not afraid of you. And, honestly, I’m more concerned that you think I couldn’t end you back there. I mean, that’s an issue we need to address.” While it clearly didn’t reduce Cadwyn’s guilt, he was able to focus on other things at hand. They all followed Basheba’s example and flattened themselves against the netting. The glowstick did little to penetrate the darkness that surrounded them. The musky scent of damp earth tainted every breath, and the constant trickling of water echoed around them. “How exactly do we get down?” Mina asked. “It’s a circus net.” Basheba tossed the glowstick over the edge. It only fell a couple of feet before it bounced against some cobblestones. “You reach over the edge, grab a handful of rope, swing your body down and drop the rest of the way. Easy.” Pausing to smother her knee-jerk reaction, Mina turned to her. “Neither of us possess the grip strength necessary to pull off that maneuver. Not to mention, you can’t even straighten one of your arms.” Basheba scowled at her cast with a venomous fury. With clawing fingers, she began ripping at the plaster. “I’ll just crack this sucker open and we’ll get started.”

“Or…” Cadwyn reached over to still her hand. “The boys and I can go first, and we’ll help you two down.” She pouted. “Why must you always ruin things with logic?” Cadwyn didn’t bother to answer that and, after relinquishing his medical kit to Basheba’s care, he flipped himself down as his wife had instructed. He landed with a pained grunt and placed a hand over his stomach. “Your stitches?” Basheba asked. “I’m okay,” he assured as the boys mirrored his maneuver and hopped down to him. As the tallest, it was easiest for Cadwyn to collect the girls. It wasn’t until Buck had his paws on the mud that he gave in to another gasp of pain. “Do you want me to check them?” Mina asked. With a fleeting touch, he assessed his stitches and shook his head. “It can wait until we get somewhere with better lighting. Basheba, does that reef you mentioned have electricity? Running water?” “Duh. Kin Bernadette had a taste for the finer things in life. She made sure the kraken kept things pretty.” Bringing the glowstick with her, she loosely gestured to a length of rope attached to the wall. There was a full quiver of arrows mounted above it. “I’ll give you all the guided tour, but can someone work this real quick for me? Thanks.” Ozzie cautiously pulled the rope, drawing it down hand over hand until a cluster of crossbows came into sight. After some quick instructions on how to reload the weapons, the boys began the task. “This is a booby trap, right?” Jeremiah asked nervously. “You booby trap all the entrances?” “Just the private ones. It’s home safety 101, Jerry. What do you guys do at casaCrane? Oh, yes!” She perked up, throwing a smile at Cadwyn who only shook his head and mouthed, ‘No.’ “Yes! Come on, it’ll be fun. Let’s go pillage Barnaby.”

“No.” She rattled her backpack. “What if I use the minotaur horns to make you a Viking helmet?” Biting back a smile, Cadwyn replied, “How about we focus on this first?” “Good idea. Ransacking Barnaby’s house can be our victory lap.” Curiosity pulled Mina over to the quiver and she carefully selected one of the slender bolts. Instead of a single tip, the arrowhead coiled out like a spiraling trident. “Cool, huh?” Basheba boasted. “I made them myself.” “You make arrows?” Jeremiah asked. “A fletcher. A person who makes arrows is called a fletcher. My great-aunt was into it and thought I needed a hobby. I prefer making swords.” “Swordsmith.” Cadwyn’s addition came with a clearing of his throat and earned him an annoyed but amused glare. “Why are they curved?” “Oh, that was my great-aunt’s design. She got her inspiration from the cookiecutter shark. You know, those deep-sea ones that take chunks out of submarines?” “Never heard of them,” Mina said. “Well, their mouths are all teeth, right? So, they latch onto what they want and, instead of shaking their heads back and forth to rip it off, they spin. You end up with this pit gouged into you. Like a cookie cutter.” She gestured to the arrow. “They’re hell to make. They don’t go far, and if you get one thing slightly off, they’ll flop instead of spin. But if you do ‘em right, they’re totally worth it. They don’t plug the wounds like normal arrows, so it’s a hell of a lot harder to stop the bleeding.” Mina twisted the arrow, studying it in the unreliable light. For the first time, she

noticed the small spikes that lined the inside of the spiral, as if each prong had teeth. “And this is what you consider appropriate for ‘home protection’?” Basheba gestured at the darkness surrounding them. “Do you see a welcome mat anywhere? We clearly don’t want visitors.” “This is illegal in so many ways; I struggle to even mentally list them all.” The blonde snorted. “That’s cute. It’s like you actually think laws apply to Allaways.” While the boys worked, Basheba retrieved some more glowsticks. Their multicolored glow pushed back the darkness just enough for Mina to get a decent look around her. The room was little more than a deep pit. Rainwater wept through the misshaped stones that lined the walls and turned the ground to slush. “Where’s the exit?” she asked. Basheba stumbled as she straightened, and might have fallen if Cadwyn hadn’t looped an arm around her waist. Basheba waved him off. “It’s just a headrush. Here, have a glowstick.” He kept a hand pressed against her back while he took the luminous tube. “The exit?” Mina tried and failed to keep her voice steady. She could swear the walls were getting closer. “ that Cadwyn’s got drugs.” Dread bubbled in Mina’s stomach as she followed the blonde to the wall. The clustered glowsticks gave just enough light to see the tunnel gouged into the wall. All things considered, it wasn’t that small. Buck would be able to walk through if he kept his head low. But for Mina, it looked like a drainpipe. “No.” Mina’s voice might have been a whisper, but it was solid.

“We don’t have to go that far,” Basheba assured her. “And no booby traps.” “I can’t.” “Let’s compromise. I’ll knock you unconscious, and we’ll drag you through.” Mina jumped when Cadwyn placed a hand on her shoulder. “I can give you a small dose of Valium. Just enough to take the edge off.” Buck whined impatiently while the boys finished their task and ed them. “Can you make it through that?” Jeremiah stammered when confronted with his sister’s glare. “I mean with your prosthetic leg. Can you crawl with that on?” “Do I have a choice?” Mina chuckled. Ozzie crossed his arms over his chest and turned to Basheba. “What are our options?” Basheba hummed thoughtfully. “Well, since the waitress forced us away from the original entrance I was going for, our options are the tunnel or stay here and starve to death. I’ll let you guys decide.” “I’ll be okay,” Mina assured them. “The offer to knock you out is still on the table.” “Thanks, Basheba. I think I’ll be fine.” Scowling, she held her hand out. “But I will take one of those glowsticks.” “Pick a color, any color.” The moment Mina had her tube, Basheba was moving, seemingly bored with the conversation. It was a strange kind of relief. Mina wanted to get everything over with as quickly as possible. Buck trotted behind the blonde as she disappeared into the tunnel, with Ozzie hot on their heels. Jeremiah hesitated in the opening. “It’s surprisingly roomy.” She forced a smile. “Thanks, Jer.”

“I’m right behind you,” Cadwyn reassured as he helped Mina sink down to sit on the ground. “Take your time.” Sucking in a deep breath, she forced herself to crawl inside. Instantly, the air felt heavy, and her heart began to bash itself against her ribcage. She began to tremble as she forced herself to go faster. It had never occurred to her to practice crawling with her prosthetic leg before, and she ended up bashing the artificial limb awkwardly against the stones. Before her, the glowsticks jerked about as people moved, forcing the minimal light to splash haphazardly across the walls. The constant dripping continued. She never felt the water, but images of drowning in the small tube filled her mind. Jeremiah broke the silence. She had never been so grateful to hear his voice. “Hey, Basheba? Why did you call the private rooms a ‘reef’?” “It’s a lot of interconnected areas, each designed to cater to different preferences, all hidden below the surface. Like a coral reef. The name kinda stuck.” “It’s all underground?” Jeremiah asked. Basheba heaved a sigh. “Mina, I know you’re itching to show off your research skills. Why don’t you explain it?” It was hard to decide exactly how insulted she should be when she was grateful to have the distraction. “I didn’t get to do much research on the Leviathan.” Basheba arched her eyebrow in disbelief. “Other things grabbed my attention.” Like trying to find a way to kill something that isn’t technically alive. “I did go on the ghost tour, though.” “Well, their version of events is always good for a laugh. Let’s hear it.” “The basics of what they told me on the tour is that the building was designed by Basheba’s ancestor.” “Kin Bernadette,” Basheba interjected. Cadwyn’s soft chuckle took the edge off of Basheba’s sharpness. “I have to ask; what’s up with the prefix?”

“Kin is someone I know I’m genetically related to, but I’m not entirely sure how.” “As the story goes,” Mina continued. “A rich man was obsessed with Bernadette. After losing a bet to her, he had to build an opera house to her specifications. The Leviathan is the end product of that. The place is riddled with hidden rooms, false doors, and hallways to nowhere. I actually fell through a trap door in the orchestra pit.” “Oh, so that’s how you got into the attic,” Basheba commented off-hand. Jeremiah jolted. “Hold up, you get to the attic by going down?” “It’s like a funhouse,” Basheba explained. Mina could hear the grin in her cheerful voice. “Or a death trap,” Cadwyn said. “Only for people outside the family.” The color drained from Mina’s face. “That’s why you were here that day, wasn’t it? Why you wouldn’t let me into that room in the attic. You were killing someone.” “No. He was already dead.” Before anyone could reply, she continued. “And before you get all judge-y, I don’t recall any of y’all’s morals making an appearance when I had to pay that debt to the kraken. You don’t get to tag in now.” “So, the Leviathan was built a while ago?” Jeremiah clarified. “How has no one found the tunnel network yet? It’s hooked up right onto a drainage system.” He added as an afterthought, “And you’d think that would make some sinkholes.” Mina paused for a moment. “Huh. I didn’t think of that.” They all shuffled forward in silence, waiting for Basheba to answer. “I always assumed that the kraken had something to do with it. This place was technically a gift from him, you know, since he rigged the bet. And it’s served him well over the years. Exerting some minor effort to protect it doesn’t sound

too strange.” Ozzie was the first to ask, “How exactly did the kraken profit from this?” “People come from all over to see the shows here. Travel creates plausible deniability of exactly where and when someone went missing. And, you know, with the privacy and all, we could do a lot more to keep it happy.” A groove between the stones snagged Mina’s prosthetic, and she jerked painfully in an attempt to release it. Cadwyn made a motion for her to be still and got her free. “I’m just going to take it off.” “Crawling on your stump might be rather painful,” Cadwyn warned, keeping his voice to a whisper so as not to alert Jeremiah. “I’ll crawl over broken glass if it means getting out of here faster.” The eerie light of the glowstick couldn’t rob Cadwyn’s smile of its warmth. “Let me help.” Mina scooted into a somewhat seated position, trying to straighten out her leg to give Cadwyn better access. He was efficient and gentle and soon had the carbon fiber limb detached. A small sigh of relief escaped her as she absently rubbed the stump. At least the phantom pains are starting to go away. Everyone had paused for Cadwyn to knot the excess fabric of Mina’s jeans to prevent a tripping hazard. In the lingering silence, the pop and crack of bones resounded like fireworks. “What was that?” Jeremiah whispered. Something dragged over the stone, bringing the sickening popping sound again. Cadwyn slowly plucked the glowstick out of Mina’s hand and tossed it back down the length of the tunnel. It bounced across the stones before rolling to a stop. Everything was still. Impenetrable shadows crowded around the weak halo of the glowstick, concealing whatever lurking monster created the sharp pops. In a flurry of crackles, the creature charged, and they scrambled to flee.

Chapter 10

Ozzie almost fell flat on his face as Jeremiah shoved him hard from behind. If he had managed to ask what was wrong, the question would have been lost under Mina’s and Cadwyn’s panicked cries. Ozzie surged forward, moving as swiftly as he could, crowding behind Buck and Basheba ahead of him. The ghastly cracking sound closed in upon them. Ozzie chanced a glance back. The light from the glowsticks slashed wildly through the darkness. The creature always scurried out of the way before the light could hit it, but it was always there. He could feel it getting closer. The others pushed forward so quickly that Ozzie could barely keep the pace. He glanced behind, completely missing the dip in the floor and dropping sharply into it. In the next instant, Jeremiah fell upon him, pinning him in place. They squirmed against each other but were unable to get out of the way before Mina and Cadwyn bore down upon them as well. Basheba tossed her glowstick back at the ghastly sound, and the others followed suit, creating a multicolored haze at the mouth of the tunnel. The popping slowed. The creature stalked the edges of the light, little more than a shadow itself. With a heavy thud, an electrical buzz flooded the room, bringing with it a burning glare. The creature squealed as it retreated deeper into the tunnel’s shadows. Ozzie’s heart remained in his throat as he looked for Basheba. She stood by the wall, still holding onto the thick lever of an electrical box. “What was that?” Jeremiah demanded. He shook his head and hurriedly added, “We need to get out of here before it comes back.” “Relax. As long as we avoid crawl spaces and keep on a bright light, she won’t bother us.” Basheba strode over to the mouth of the tunnel, tipping at the waist to stare into the abyss. A few clicks echoed out to her, making her smile. “You’re as pathetic in death as you were in life, aren’t ya sweetie?” The creature was barely more than a shadow as it scurried up the walls of the tunnel, clinging from the roof as it stared at Basheba. Jeremiah’s voice went up a few octaves as he asked, “You knew that thing was in there?”

“She’s not supposed to be. Someone must have broken her seal. It happens from time to time with all the upkeep and renovations. I’ll check on the others when we get to the reef.” “Hold on.” Mina angrily pulled at the knot in her jeans, trying to work it free. “All this time, you knew how to contain ghosts, and you never said anything?” Basheba rolled her eyes. “They’re not runes. Anyway, the tradition only works within the Leviathan.” Cadwyn carried Mina away from the tunnel opening, only putting her back down when they were directly under the floodlight. Letting her brace herself against his shoulders, Cadwyn untied the knot in her pant leg. “What is the tradition, exactly?” “When you kill someone on the property, you seal up an effigy of them in one of the vaults. The kraken takes it from there and keeps any resulting ghosts away from the living areas.” “So, everyone who dies here becomes a ghost?” Mina pressed. “I don’t think so,” Basheba smirked. “Otherwise, the place would be super crowded.” “What does the kraken do with the ghosts it has?” The blonde shrugged. “That’s above my paygrade.” “You don’t know?” “No one ever told me, and I didn’t ask.” While Mina struggled to process that, Jeremiah lifted his hand and stammered out. “What do you mean ‘vault’?” “Fancy name for a hole in the wall sealed with a bit of marble over it. There’re clusters of them all over the place.”

“And everyone gets one?” Jeremiah asked. “Nah, we reuse them after a decade or so. It’s never too late to learn how to share.” She cut off any further questions with one of her own. “Mina, are you almost ready to go?” Mina glared at Basheba as Cadwyn refitted her prosthetic to her battered stump. Pointing back at the tunnel, Ozzie tried to buy them some more time. “Who is she?” Basheba looked confused for half a heartbeat. “Oh, the ghost. Just some idiot that messed up bad.” “Does she have a name?” Ozzie pressed. “Probably did once. I didn’t bother to it.” Heaving an annoyed sigh, she elaborated. “She worked at a nursing home specializing in Alzheimer’s patients. She liked to abuse them and, when they tried to get help, she’d convince everyone that they were just confused. That they hurt themselves.” “So, you made her into…” Jeremiah cringed farther away from the tunnel, “That?” “Me?” Basheba laughed. “Oh, no. I was just a kid. And she did it to herself, really. What moron goes after another predator’s kin and doesn’t expect repercussions?” Cadwyn finished his task and smoothed Mina’s jeans leg back down. “She abused one of your family ?” “Technically, he was a family friend. So, sort of like a pet.” She ignored them all to rub both sides of Buck’s face. “But we love our pets, don’t we, Buck?” “You do tend to treat them a lot better than people,” Mina noted, her eyes on the tunnel. “What exactly did they do to her?” “Nothing she didn’t deserve,” Basheba dismissed and turned on her heel. “You guys better keep close if you don’t want to get lost.”

Basheba set a brisk pace, leading them through a heavy metal door and into a tangled mass of hallways. They ed by open doorways that led to identical corridors, each one lit by exposed bulbs dangling from the high ceilings, the exposed beams casting strips of shadows that Ozzie eyed with paranoid suspicion. He swore he spotted a few of them shifting in the corners of his eyes, but he never caught sight of the broken woman. Basheba never hesitated. She knew exactly where she was going and didn’t wait to see if the others followed. Mina’s limp was far more pronounced than it had been before, and she was losing the fight to keep the pain from her face. Jeremiah asked before Ozzie could, “Are there any shortcuts?” Basheba used her whole body to express her annoyance. “You tired already, Jerry?” “And paranoid. A little cold. I’m also kind of hungry.” The blonde whirled on him. Jeremiah was quick to leap back a step and force a wide and tense smile. No one was prepared for the abrupt bark of laughter. “You’re such an idiot,” Basheba chuckled. “This way.” Jeremiah caught Ozzie’s eyes, whispering only once the others had shuffled out of earshot. “Guess that worked to break the tension, huh?” A relieved sigh slipped Ozzie’s lips as he looped an arm over Jeremiah’s shoulders, pulling him close enough to feel the slight tremor that worked through his friend’s body. “You seriously are an idiot, you know? I thought you were going to get stabbed.” “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll try it again.” A few random turns brought them to a hole in the wall. Two strips of rope were tangled along the length of the space, swaying slightly in a barely felt breeze that flowed down the shaft. “It’s a dumbwaiter.” Basheba explained what that was before Cadwyn could ask. “Like an elevator, but it makes you work for it. There’s an elaborate pulley system that makes it easier to use but, if you all want to go up at the same time, I am not pulling it.”

Cadwyn moved in for a closer look, careful not to touch the shadows that lingered within the shaft. “Where does it go?” “This one goes to the opera house balcony level.” Bracing one hand on the wall, Cadwyn turned just enough to raise an eyebrow at her. “There are others?” “A couple of them.” “How has no one found them?” Jeremiah asked. Mina perked up. “In the tour I took, the guide said they were still discovering hidden rooms. I guess these might be easier to hide if they’re within the walls and pillars and such.” Cadwyn leaned back in to stare up the chute. “Is it safe to use this with that woman on the loose?” “There’s a risk in everything,” Basheba replied. “Right.” Cadwyn studied her face as he dragged out the word. Ozzie didn’t know what the older man saw there, but it felt safe enough to reach into the darkness and grasp the rope. A few solid pulls brought the carriage down. It was little more than a metal frame, with nothing between the bars to create walls. Cadwyn insisted on getting in first, his eyes flicking around the shadows as he jumped a few times to test the stability. Once he was satisfied, they all crowded into the cramped space. Basheba cracked one more glowstick and used it to gesture to the internal rope. Cadwyn pulled on it, grunting a bit as he did so, and they lifted about an inch. With Ozzie’s help, they started making some progress. Jeremiah’s whispered reassurances drew Ozzie’s attention. In the low light, he could just make out Mina’s death grip on her older brother’s hand. Even with her eyes squeezed shut, sweat dripped down her scarred face, and she choked on every panted breath. “We’ll be out of here soon, okay? This is better for your leg,” Jeremiah whispered. “Is there anything I can do?”

The witch fire might have robbed Mina of her grip strength, but she looked to be doing a pretty good job of crushing Jeremiah’s hand. They ed several dark openings until Basheba told them to stop. She reached across the few inches separating the cage from a wooden wall and pushed it open with surprising ease. Mina launched herself out into the brightly lit hallway, stumbling in the process and landing hard on her hands and knees. Jeremiah was beside her in an instant. “Are you okay? Did you hurt anything?” Sweat dripped from her skin to splash over the raw floorboards. “I am not getting into that thing again.” “You won’t have to.” Jeremiah looked to Basheba for confirmation. “We’ve done the worst of it, right?” “Sure.” It was impressive how swiftly Jeremiah could interpret Basheba’s single word into an essay of reassurance. Mina’s breathing evened out and, with a bit of help, she got back to her feet. Basheba had already replaced the door, completely concealing the shaft. It took her a few seconds and a couple of testing knocks to find the next opening. She quickly slipped through it, leaving them no choice but to follow. Cadwyn paused at the entrance, his hands braced on either side, his voice coated with both anger and concern in equal measures. “Basheba?” “I’m right here,” Basheba snapped. ing Cadwyn at the opening, Ozzie could see why Cadwyn was so stressed. The room was full of mirrors, their polished surfaces amplifying every trace of light as they randomly twisted and turned. Disorientation hit Ozzie hard and, if he hadn’t braced himself against the doorframe, he would have ended up on the ground. All around them, random patches of polished glass rotated in different directions, mocking them with their reflections and hiding whatever pathway they had to take to get through the maze. Bile burned the back of Ozzie’s throat and vertigo left him hobbled. “Where are you exactly?” Cadwyn demanded.

With a distant whirl and clank of machinery, the mirrors stilled and the world seemed to settle back into its proper place. Ozzie fixed his gaze on the floor. It was hard to tell himself that he was fine when his fear was mirrored back at him from numerous angles. The buzz of the lights and their own panted breaths were all that stirred the oppressive silence. Jeremiah yelped when Basheba’s head popped out from behind a mirror that was busy looking like a wall. Her blonde hair swept down to one side as her head floated a few feet higher than she could stand. All you have to do is walk straight ahead? Shouldn’t it be more complicated than that? Ozzie couldn’t decide if it was an ingenious plan to keep people off-guard or if Basheba had timed the switch perfectly. “You’re the jumpy sort, aren’t ya, Jerry?” “Can you blame me?” Jeremiah cringed as his voice squeaked on the last word. “Maybe not. But I can mock the hell out of you.” Cadwyn’s heavy sigh seemed to reprimand her somewhat, and she pulled back without further comment. With parental tenderness, Cadwyn soothed everyone as much as he could and got them back in motion, albeit at a far slower pace. Ozzie wasn’t entirely sure how Basheba had managed to get through the small, high-set gap hidden behind the mirror. And Buck managed to follow. Can dogs climb walls? The idea of the Rottweiler being able to pull off that kind of thing was both impressive and terrifying. Braced against the wall, Ozzie threaded his fingers together and gave Jeremiah a boost. Once he was up, they managed to get Mina awkwardly through the gap. “You’re next,” Ozzie added before Cadwyn could protest. “You’ve got stitches, and I haven’t been doing all these chin-ups for nothing.” Reluctantly, he clambered up, leaving Ozzie alone. He backed up a few steps and judged the distance. And people thought the obstacle course was a waste of time. It was an easy maneuver for him, one he had done a hundred times by now, and he was soon reunited with the group. He turned to get his first real look at where they were now. Everyone was crowded onto a narrow ledge that ran between the wall and a huge metal

structure. An octopus? The back was little more than rippling metal that offered half a dozen footholds, but thick bands coiled out from the base to clasp at the wall on either side. It was hard to see anything around it. All he could make out were slips of deep blue and polished silver. Buck and Basheba had both used the ridges on the base to climb to the top and were currently peeking over the edge. Stringed instruments came to life, offering soft notes to the distant rumble of thunder. Barely an instant ed before an angelic voice ed them. “What is it?” Jeremiah whispered anxiously. “Is that a ghost?” Basheba hooked her cast around one of the tentacles to better turn to the others. “Or maybe it’s that woman who’s standing center stage and currently singing.” Mina swallowed thickly. “How long will they be here?” “A concert’s run tends to be two shows a day for a few weeks,” Basheba replied. “And this is the last day?” “Nope.” Mina turned to her sharply. “How are we going to protect them?” “Yeah,” Basheba drew out the word thoughtfully. “Yeah, I’m not doing that.” “What do you think is going to happen to all those innocent people when the ghosts take issue with the demon trying to get inside?” Basheba returned to her post. “I’m guessing collateral damage.” “Don’t you care if people die?” “They won’t be the first blood spilled in here.” Hopping down from her perch, she squared off with Mina.” “These people—” “Will only be here for a few hours at a time and they’ll remain relatively contained to a single area. I’m going to check the damned seals. What exactly were you guys expecting? There’s nowhere we could have gone that would be

completely isolated.” Ozzie loosely gestured below. “Can’t you tell them to leave? You own the place, right?” Basheba laughed. “Do you have any idea what the land rates are for a place like this? Or how expensive the upkeep is? I ain’t made of money. Now that it’s on the historical registry, it’s the government’s problem. Wait, does the government flip the bill? Or is it more of a private organization thing?” She pursed her lips in thought before brushing it all aside with a lazy tilt of her head. “Either way, they re-graveled the drive.” “So, essentially, we’re breaking in?” Mina asked. Basheba snorted. “Is it ‘breaking in’ if it’s your own property?” “But you don’t own it,” Mina corrected. “You literally just said that.” “The Leviathan will always belong to the Allaways. I don’t own it, but it’s mine.” “That doesn’t make any sense!” A loud swell of the orchestra helped to conceal Mina’s outburst. Cadwyn cut in before Mina’s exasperation could propel her on. “I think what we’re trying to point out is that you don’t have any legal rights to the property.” “All right, let’s go over this very simple concept one more time for the slow learners.” Basheba overproduced every word as she continued. “I’m an Allaway. For me, laws are like morality; they’re just suggestions. You can ignore suggestions.” No one knew how to respond to that, and she took the opportunity to brush the conversation aside with a dismissive, “The Leviathan is mine.” Cadwyn cleared his throat before anyone could recover and do something foolish, like ask follow-up questions. “Mina, let me check your leg before we set off again.”

Mina slumped against a wall and balled up the leg of her muddy jeans. Cadwyn knelt in front of her and, seeing Mina’s dark mood, Ozzie decided to give her some space. What little space there was to be had in the small platform, anyway. He ed Basheba in reclimbing up the metal. Jeremiah hesitated until he was reassured that it would hold their combined weight and then pulled himself up as well and looked over the Leviathan Opera House. It was breathtaking. A cavernous room of brilliant blue and sparkling silver. A sea of velvet seats filled the space below them; an elaborately painted dome ceiling hovered above. Balcony seating that stretched out on either side was edged with rippling, pristine metal. It all combined to leave him feeling like a small creature lost beneath the churning waves. “Wow,” Jeremiah whispered. Basheba preened with pride. “Thank you.” “We’re above the royal booth, right? What? My grandparents take me to the opera every time I visit.” Ozzie arched his neck to better scan the room. While they weren’t at the top, the height still flipped his stomach. They climbed back down after a few moments more of watching the performance. Once Cadwyn had finished his task, Basheba clicked her tongue. “Right. Well, I’m guessing everyone’s tired and eager to get to the reef. Let’s take the body chute.” “Why did we come up if we have to go down again?” Mina asked. “Because the two areas aren’t connected,” Basheba shot back with a roll of her eyes. “Duh.” Jeremiah lifted his hand like a good student as Basheba headed off. “Why is it called a body chute?” “Don’t think about it too hard, Jerry.”

Chapter 11

Mina tipped her head back to study the pearl-drenched chandeliers that dangled from the undulating ceiling of the reef’s hallway. The plush sea-green carpet and silver doors were enough to give it the same sense of grandeur as the opera house itself, even though the place was devoid of any decorations. “I’m not exactly sure how you guys were planning the sleeping arrangement, but I’m thinking you’re all feeling a bit clingy right now. So, we’ll start in Grandma’s suite.” Pushing open one of the gleaming doors, Basheba swept her arm across the threshold, motioning for them to enter. “If we’re here long enough for you guys to get comfortable, I’ll set you up in your own space.” The suite was trimmed with gold and drenched in Caribbean blue, with thick velvet curtains dividing the room into thirds. The first was a bedroom fitted with the largest canopy bed Mina had ever seen along with a speckling of antique furniture. The second was the bathroom, with a copper tub situated in the center. Beyond it, the final area seemed to be a cluttered library, with shelves brimming with books and jars and artifacts that instantly caught Mina’s attention. Basheba stripped her bag from her shoulders and tossed it onto a nearby coffee table. “There’s a daybed in the back you’re free to use if you want some space. Just ignore the crib and try not to make a mess.” “Your grandmother had a crib?” Cadwyn asked. “Yeah, there was something she used to do with the newborns.” Halfway through the bathroom, Mina paused to repeat the sentence over in her head. “Like what, exactly?” Basheba just shrugged. “Your grandmother was a witch, right? You didn’t ask what she was doing with newborns?”

“She’d never hurt kin. Even if she did, why would I care?” “They were babies,” Jeremiah said. “Exactly! And if you let them survive, they become kids.” Basheba ended the comment with a hard shiver. Mina had given up long ago on determining a logical reason for Basheba’s phobia of children and knew better than to try to figure it out now. Instead, she turned her full focus onto the library. Wall-mounted lamps illuminated the area in a weak glow. She was quick to turn on the lamp that sat upon the rickety desk, further chasing the shadows away, and began to study the books. Very few of them had titles upon the spines. For the most part, they seemed to be leatherbound journals. Loose sheets of paper, scrolls, and random items were shoved in-between the ancient volumes. Turning to the desk, she noticed a small table and some extra shelving tucked between the curtain and the walls. It looked like a primitive laboratory, with an array of beakers, test tubes, and bottles of unidentifiable powders. Dried flowers hung from the shelving in bunches, framing the jars and preserved organs and bleached bones. It’s her conjuring workshop. Mina stared at it in awe. It’s completely intact. It was something she never thought she’d see. All the Wiccans she had met were happy to talk about their supplies and habits. Witches using blood magic were far more secretive. Even paranormal researchers like the Claymonts refused to discuss the issue. She limped to the counter, ignoring the pain in her stump to finally explore what a witch’s conjuring workshop had to offer. Ozzie and Jeremiah entered as she began to mentally catalog the items. Already accustomed to her moments of fixation, they both knew better than to try to interrupt her and silently drifted off to explore the far side of the room. The one stocked with a few boxes of kids’ toys and a carved wooden crib. Cadwyn arrived a heartbeat later. A smile was clear in his voice as he said, “Is it weird that I when Basheba was small enough to sleep in this?” Jeremiah snorted under his breath. “Was?”

“It’s a little heartbreaking, isn’t it? This thing is never going to be used again. There’s never going to be another Allaway baby.” Ozzie kept his guilt-riddled voice low as he replied, “Are you sure that’s a bad thing, Cad?” “Besides,” Jeremiah leaped back into the conversation so quickly that Mina suspected Cadwyn was glaring at Ozzie. “There could be others. I mean, they might not use the crib, but there could be more.” “Basheba has no womb, ?” Ozzie whispered. “Yeah, but, bastards exist,” Jeremiah countered. Basheba’s voice was both cold and dismissive as she stalked into the room, “We’d never let anyone else raise an Allaway. What was that? Don’t mutter, Jerry, say it out loud.” Mina turned and caught Jeremiah’s worried gaze. He swallowed thickly and answered Basheba’s prodding. “I’m just thinking that, if I got pregnant with an Allaway kid, I probably wouldn’t tell anyone.” Basheba’s eyebrows shot up. “Because you’re a guy?” “Look, I don’t mean any offense, at all, please don’t be mad—but all of this is kind of creepy.” He flopped one arm around, the motion somehow capturing the Leviathan as a whole; all it was built on and everything it represented. “Personally, I wouldn’t want my kid growing up participating in ritualistic human sacrifices… in a haunted building… to appease the kraken. It just seems like a very intense environment.” “Right,” Basheba quipped. “Because growing up with the Harvest is so much better.” Jeremiah shrugged meekly, neither agreeing nor arguing. Mina instantly searched for something to distract the volatile woman and, in desperation, ended up snatching up one of the books. The thought hit her a second later.

“Are these spellbooks?” “Maybe,” Basheba shrugged. Mina gaped at her. “We’re fighting for our lives against a witch, and you never thought to mention you had a room full of spellbooks?” “Mom would have asked Grandma about it. Obviously, because we still grew up with Katrina, there was nothing she could do to help,” Basheba dismissed. “Besides, they’re useless to anyone but her. They’re all written in dead languages.” Jerking her head up, Mina flipped open the book in her hands. “Dead languages? Like Latin?” “How would I know? Besides, what would it matter? Who reads Latin?” Both Mina and Ozzie raised their hands. Basheba stared at them for a long moment. “You’re kidding me.” “Well, not fluently,” Mina itted. “But Latin has worked its way into both medical and law terminology. I thought it would be best to learn some.” They all turned to Ozzie. He shrugged one shoulder. “People find Latin impressive, and my school has a desperate need to justify why it costs so much.” “So, you might be able to read this?” Cadwyn asked, selecting a book from the piles stacked on the desk. “Maybe a few of them,” Mina said. An intensity she hadn’t seen before filled the man’s gaze at he stared at her. “Do you think there’s a way to kill a demon in here?” She stumbled over her words, partly because she didn’t want to hurt him, and partly because his stare put her on edge. “There might be a way to banish them. Or trap them, like Katrina’s music boxes—”

“If we send it away or capture it, there’ll always be a chance it can break free.” Cadwyn’s voice carried all the tension he didn’t let his features show. “I need a way to kill it.” “That might not be possible.” Cadwyn’s gaze sharpened, and Mina took a step back. “But I can keep looking.” The hint of fear in her voice snapped Cadwyn from his fixation. He shook his head as if to physically clear his thoughts, and sucked down a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “It’s not fair to put so much on your shoulders.” “It’s okay.” Mina’s weak reassurance didn’t alleviate the guilt written all over his face. “Right,” Basheba said slowly. “Well, I’m gonna go and check on those seals. You bookworms have fun. Don’t die horribly. I don’t wanna clean that up.” “You’re leaving us here alone?” Jeremiah asked before she had fully completed her sentence. “You guys have water and some entertainment. There’re toys in the corner if you get bored.” “But you’re the one who said that there could be other ghosts around.” As if to emphasize Jeremiah’s point, the roof trembled, and a long scraping sound filled the air for several moments. “What was that?” “Don’t worry about it,” Basheba whispered, her gaze skirting across the ceiling. “It can’t get down here.” “What can’t?” Ozzie asked. Basheba shook her head. “Look, this is the safest place in the whole Leviathan. Just keep the lights on and don’t go anywhere. Or come with me. We can discover what’s stalking the halls together.” Cadwyn walked toward her. “Yeah, that was a joke. You can stay here.”

“You know I won’t.” Mina looked between Ozzie and Jeremiah. Without a word, they were all in agreement. She needed to rest her battered leg, the research needed to be done, and none of them wanted to leave the promised safety of the room. “If anything happens…” Basheba pulled her phone out of her backpack and wiggled it in the air. “Just call me.” “You get reception down here?” Jeremiah shoved a hand into the pocket of his slacks. Basheba had already turned on her heel, stalking back to the door flanked by Cadwyn and Buck. “Yeah, the kraken’s apparently pro-technology. Go figure.”

***

Basheba hesitated at the top of the staircase. Buck hugged her legs, a low cautious growl rumbling within his broad chest. She reached down to scratch behind his ears. “Is everything all right?” Cadwyn asked. She jumped at the sharp reminder that she wasn’t alone. Her father hadn’t taken well to the Leviathan. Even when the bloodline had been whittled down to just the two of them, he had still refused to adopt the Allaway traditions and had waited out in the car while she did what she had to do. It had been years since anyone but she had walked these hallways. The company now felt equal parts welcome and invasive. She jerked her chin down the twisting length of the stone staircase. “The seals are on the same level as the disposal rooms.” Cadwyn nodded slowly and looked down the stairs as he spoke. “Is there anything there that I should be concerned about?”

“Depends what seals are broken.” Basheba studied him carefully, searching for the pressure fractures she knew had to be forming. Cadwyn was loyal, but he was also a good man driven by his comion. Eventually, this world will be too much for him. Basheba bit back her bitterness and regret when she corrected the thought. Eventually, I will be too much. And he’ll break. Feeling her attention, he turned his head just enough to catch her gaze. His smile floored her. “I straight-up murder people,” Basheba blurted out. Confusion creased his forehead. “You’ve told me before. We talked about this.” “And I’m not going to change!” “I’d never ask you to.” “So, you’re just going to accept my murder hobby? Seriously? You’re prepared to live with that knowledge squatting on your brain?” Cadwyn’s head tipped to the side, his sharp eyes studying her closely and leaving her feeling utterly exposed. “You can talk to me. I’ll listen.” Basheba snorted, avoided all eye , and started down the stairs. “You know, I’m really starting to question your mental stability. You should seek professional help.” By the sound of it, Cadwyn let Buck start down the stairs before he did, but she didn’t glance back to check. The walls, ceiling, and floors of the disposal rooms and its hallway were made out of sealed stone. The kind that didn’t stain. Kin Bernadette might have been a drama queen, but she was practical when it came to clean-up time. The lower floor of the reef seemed to stretch out to the horizon, lined with the rooms tailor-made for the family member’s preferred methods of sacrifice and disposal. They lay dormant now. Cold and quiet and forgotten. Like relics from a golden age. Basheba and Cadwyn’s footsteps echoed out around them as they stalked toward the effigy vault that was a few yards ahead of them. Rows of tiny cubicles filled the space, each one sealed with a little slab of marble.

As they neared, Cadwyn ran his fingertips over the crude pictures chiseled onto the polished stone. “You mark the dead?” “Yeah.” He slowly traced another image. “I didn’t expect you to give them that dignity.” “It’s not for them. It’s for us. For exactly this kind of situation, actually.” It didn’t take more than a glance to find the Broken Woman’s slab. The marble was cracked clean through, leaving a good-sized gap in the seal. Basheba dug her fingers into the groves, pried the pieces loose, and let them drop to crash against the floor. “I’m going to need an unmarked slab.” Cadwyn nodded and started his search. “Keep an eye out for any other broken ones,” Basheba called after him. The interior of the vault was cool to the touch as she groped about for the effigy. Buck’s slow, warning growl sounded all the louder in the silence around them. Snatching up the small doll, she hurriedly checked both ends of the hall. The lights blazed above her, flooding the space with a glaring light. Nothing moved. Her ears rang with the returning silence. “Basheba?” She whipped around and would have hit him had he been half a second slower. Trying to regain some of her pride, she snatched the vault seal from his hands. “You’re lucky I don’t have my knife.” His eyes flicked from her face to the hallway. “What are you worried about?” “Nothing.” “We’re on your side, Basheba.” She checked the doll for any damage, tossed it back into the vault, and hurriedly fixed the seal into place. “There. Done. Unless you found some other damaged

ones.” Cadwyn sighed in defeat and led the way to the next break. “A couple.” He gestured to the damage he had found. “If pressure from construction work created a fissure, these cracks should be connected.” Basheba turned her full attention onto the wall of vaults to keep Cadwyn from seeing her face. I swear he’s telepathic. It was the only explanation she could think of for how easily he could read her. “But this damage is all scattered. As if someone deliberately broke them,” Cadwyn pressed, tipping at the waist to lean deeper into her personal space. Basheba avoided his gaze by studying the random broken slabs. “Basheba, if all of these vaults hold ghosts, someone chose which ones to unleash.” It wouldn’t do that. But the thought was hollow. Ever since her first encounter with the kraken, she knew it wasn’t to be trusted. But she trusted her grandmother beyond question, and the old lady had promised that the kraken would keep its deals. It made those deals with me. Basheba violently shoved the thought aside before it could take root. Now wasn’t the time to spread paranoia. Fix the seals and get back upstairs. “Can the demon get in here?” Cadwyn gripped her arm, bringing her to a stop. Basheba hesitated, but when she replied, her voice was solid and sure. “Your guess is as good as mine. Mina said the ghost shielding should work.” Before he could argue, she pointed to one of the broken slabs that was too high for her to get to on her own. After a moment of deliberation, Cadwyn accepted defeat and let the conversation drop. He handed the broken stone to her and set about yanking an unmarked one free. “Check that the effigy’s still intact before you reseal it,” Basheba remarked as she put the two pieces together and studied the picture. “Oh, this was the cult guy.” “I know I shouldn’t ask for details, but I will.” “Nothing much to tell. He was pretty high ranking in one of those doomsday

cults. You know, those types of groups that always end in a lot of death?” “What happened?” Basheba stared at his broad back as he worked. “A lot of death.” “Let me rephrase; why would you care?” “Oh, he’s not one of mine,” she chuckled. “I wasn’t even born yet. Nah, he’s one of Kin Fiona’s. She used to tell me about him as a bedtime story.” Cadwyn had the effigy in his hand as he turned his head. He decided against his comment and resealed the vault. “She liked high profile targets, the ones everyone else was looking for. There was something about a nation-wide manhunt that she just couldn’t resist. Apparently, he was a super big deal at the time.” She tossed the pieces aside, and they shattered into rubble against the stone floor. “He’s not much of anything now.” The next broken slab drew her attention, and she knelt to pull it loose. Buck pressed against her side, pawing at the marble until Cadwyn appeared with a replacement in hand. Buck’s ears perked, his nose twitched, and he turned to stare down the corridor behind her. Basheba toppled onto her hip as she hurriedly whipped around. Whatever had caught the dog’s attention kept itself hidden from her. “Basheba?” “Can you grab the other broken one? We need to speed this up.” The soft ruffling of his clothes covered any trace sound she might have been able to pick up on. With her hair standing on end, she fixed the vault door into place and ran for the next broken stone. She had the sharp fragments in hand when Buck broke into savage barks. Instinct propelled her forward. Sparks and crushed stones rained upon her as she rolled over the floor and crashed into Cadwyn. In one smooth motion, he rolled with the impact and looped an arm around her waist. Getting them both to their feet was far more awkward. Air pushed against Basheba’s legs as they stumbled forward. She looked back just in time to see a tangled mass of limbs crashing into the wall, turning a dozen vault

doors into kindling. The ghostly being wasn’t an individual ghost, but a writhing cluster of arms and legs that came from dozens of people. Fear spiked through her, and she pushed against Cadwyn all the harder. “Run!” “What is that?” Cadwyn asked. They sprinted down the corridor, Buck bounding to keep up. “The leftovers.” She didn’t realize the words had slipped out of her mouth until Cadwyn said through clenched teeth, “What does that mean?” Her response was cut off when the grotesque mass materialized before them, a dozen hands already blindly reaching toward the sound of their footsteps. Cadwyn had to distort himself far more than Basheba did to avoid them latching onto him, but they both ended up on their knees. Buck launched himself at the specter as Basheba and Cadwyn scrambled out of the way. His jaws snapped for flesh, but the writhing mass dispersed like smoke under his touch. “This way!” Basheba shoulder-barged her way through a connecting door that fed onto another corridor. They barreled down the narrow corridor for a ways before she took another door and started down a spiraling flight of stairs. How the hell did they get out? She shoved the thought aside and ran faster. That was something she could worry about once they were out of the monstrosity’s reach. The crack and scrape of tormented stones followed them, the distance and rhythm making both her and Cadwyn pause. “It’s unleashing the others,” Cadwyn whispered. Basheba swallowed thickly, her bravado wavering when she heard the ghastly scrape of something slithering within the foundations. “I can handle it.” The small waver in her voice had Cadwyn craning his head around to stare at

her. “They’ll still be trapped in sections,” Basheba assured herself. “Divide and conquer and all that.” The realization that they were cut off from the others hit them both at the same time. They broke into a sprint, racing down into the depths of the Leviathan.

Chapter 12

Ozzie flipped the page of the old tome, the brittle parchment paper ripping against his fingertips. His stomach dropped, and he shot a wide-eyed glance to Jeremiah. They both held their breaths, frozen in place, waiting to see if Mina had heard it, too. They had both witnessed her protecting her research before, and it had put the fear of the Bell Witch into them. “Hey.” Ozzie jumped at Mina’s sudden outburst, a small squeak escaping him. Clearing his throat to cover his embarrassment, he noticed that her attention was fixed on the scrolls spread out before her. “Hey, guys, look at this.” Ozzie flipped a few pages to hide the torn page as he crossed the study. Jeremiah, who had been looking over the conjuring workshop, beat him to the table. “Are those blueprints for the Leviathan?” Jeremiah waved a hand about. “Nah, that’s stupid right?” “I see it,” Ozzie tapped a finger against an unmarked section. “That could be the stage. And, size-wise, that bit there could be the octopus.” Jeremiah smiled timidly. “I thought that looked like the opera hall, and the space there would work as the lobby, if I’m orientated right. But Bernadette used a whole bunch of contractors. So, how would blueprints exist?” “Well, they built the place to her specification, right?” Ozzie suggested. “Just because she made people work in sections doesn’t mean she didn’t have the overall plan.” “Oh, God,” Mina whispered, her eyes widening. “What?” The boys asked in unison.

Mina dragged a scarred fingertip over two thick bars that separated what seemed to be the layers of the building. They were filled with intricate swirls and lines of ink in some unrepetitive design. Ozzie shrugged one shoulder. “I think I’ve seen this before.” “We all have.” Mina tore her eyes from the scroll to look at each of them in turn. Whatever she was looking for, they failed to provide. She spread her arms out with an exasperated sigh. “Katrina’s music boxes!” “The demon prisons?” Jeremiah asked. “Look at this floorplan. These floors have the same layout as the design on the exterior of the boxes.” “But the patterns on the box kept moving,” Jeremiah said. “These don’t move. Right?” Ozzie scratched at the back of his neck. “Yeah, but those boxes are made to open and let the demons back out.” “These are the blueprints for the Leviathan.” A slight giggle escaped Mina as she stood up to better examine the design. “It’s one giant dybbuk box!” “I’m judging by context that a dybbuk box is just a fancy name for a demon trap,” Jeremiah said. “Basically. As long as it remains intact and unopened, they can’t get out. That’s why Allaways wall up the effigies! Don’t you see? All those vaults. They’re each a tiny dybbuk box sealed within a larger box. Bernadette might have wanted an opera house, but this place was built to store souls.” “But why would anyone want that? I mean, it seems elaborate just to prevent hauntings.” Jeremiah cringed. “Please don’t tell me they’re using them in black magic.” “Maybe it’s simpler than that. Basheba’s never told us what the kraken eats.” Ozzie regretted the suggestion the moment it left his mouth.

“I don’t know what it means, but I know that it works in our favor.” Mina glanced up to see if the boys were thinking the same thing as her. She soon began elaborating. “The demon following us has just been unleashed from a dybbuk box. I doubt it would be willing to risk imprisonment again. This, more than the ghosts, could be what keeps it at bay.” A smile pulled at Jeremiah’s lips. “So, we might have more time to get everything together. To build a proper plan, a proper defense. We might survive this.” Before Ozzie could reply, he heard the growl. It was low and deep and so laced with the promise of violence that his blood ran cold. There was no need to ask if anyone else heard it. The silence that followed was almost tangible. With every muscle in Ozzie’s body locked into place, just turning his eyes to the far wall hurt. Twin red flames bled through the walls, bringing with them some clustered shadows. Fangs severed the darkness. Nails clicked against the cold floor as the shadows melted and reformed, splitting to create three hellish hounds. Their bodies rippled around the edges, making it impossible to tell their true size, but they stood at least two feet tall at their shoulders. Their pointed ears rose like daggers, and their eyes burned hot enough that the light bled into the air when they moved. Ozzie locked a trembling hand around Jeremiah’s wrist. With his free hand, he pushed Mina behind him, attempting to get both Crane siblings to the door and away from the approaching phantom beasts. “I’ve seen them before,” Mina whispered, her voice barely heard under their growls. “The last time I was here, they chased me to the attic. Like they were rounding me up for Basheba.” Jeremiah fumbled his free hand into his pocket. “I think I’m going to give her a call.” “Sounds good.” Ozzie swallowed thickly as the hounds stalked closer, slowly following them out into the bathroom and driving them further back still. Jeremiah put his phone on speaker, allowing the steady drone of the phone’s ringing to fill the room. Please pick up. Please pick up, Ozzie chanted in his

head. One of the hounds disappeared from his sight only to reemerge beside him. With a startled cry, he jumped back, almost tripping as he pushed the Crane siblings out into the bedroom. The phone clicked, and Basheba’s voice suddenly panted down the line, “Hey, I was just going to call you guys. We may have run into a slight issue.” “So have we,” Ozzie cut in. “The ghost hounds are here,” Mina blurted out at the same moment. “The Ladies?” Basheba paused to catch her breath. “Oh, you should not be alone with them.” “Call them off,” Mina demanded. “How?” “You control them.” “I’ve got scars on my stomach that beg to differ. Those things only ever listened to my grandma.” The speaker crackled, and, when her voice came back, she echoed like she was in a vast hall. “Look, if they haven’t killed you already, it means they want you to leave. What did you guys do to tick them off?” “We didn’t do anything,” Mina growled between clenched teeth. Ozzie didn’t realize how far they had traveled until they were pressed against the door. “That doesn’t matter now,” Ozzie cut in. “How do we get rid of them?” “You can’t. They will eat you. Best just make your apologies and try for a graceful exit.” “They can’t leave the room.” Cadwyn had tried to keep his voice to a whisper, but Ozzie heard it clear enough. “Why? What’s out there?” “Some folks might be coming back for round two,” Basheba dismissed. “Look,

you need to get to Cool Uncle’s room, okay?” “You said they were safe there,” Cadwyn hissed. “And they were; right up until the second that they ticked the Ladies off.” Raising her voice to be heard through the speaker, she continued to them, “Get into the hallway and do not give them your back. which direction we came in? Head back that way.” “But—” “Ozzie, I’d suggest going now.” The Ladies lurched forward again. Jeremiah scrambled to open the door, and they all barreled out into the hallway. Breaking into a sprint, Jeremiah was already demanding directions. The distance was short, and they were soon crowding around another nondescript door. Ozzie rattled the handle. “It’s locked, Basheba!” “Oh, right. Cool Uncle used to do that a lot. Real safety-conscious kind of guy.” “That’s great and all,” Mina said while constantly checking the halls. “But not exactly helpful.” Basheba’s response was slow in coming. For a while, all that crackled over the phone was panted breaths and feet running over stone. “Guys?” Mina’s voice made both men turn. Ozzie had prepared to see the hounds coming for them. The woman caught him off-guard. She was beautiful and slender, her dress like flowing moonlight, and her dark hair swirling above her like a turbulent sky. “Um, Basheba?” Ozzie asked while meeting the woman’s unblinking stare. “There’s a lady up here. Dark hair. Wearing a dress. Pretty. How scared should I be?” The reply sounded distant and punctuated by harsh grunts. “Depends. Where’s her son?”

Mina’s scream made them twist around. A little boy, no more than six, had appeared beside her. His shabby red hair was the only part of him that held any color, and his face held no emotion as he slashed at Mina. She staggered back, unable to avoid the tip of the boy’s knife. It grazed her stomach, cleanly severing the fabric of her shirt. In the next second, the blade ed through the stone wall, as if the wall was nothing more than smoke. Jeremiah grabbed his sister’s shoulders, helping her to keep her balance. “Get away from him.” Basheba’s voice knocked them back to their senses, and they staggered around the boy and started to run. The woman appeared before them, far closer this time. Mina tried to skid to a stop, but her prosthetic made it difficult. She tripped, toppling through the woman and landing with a solid thud. Jeremiah and Ozzie both latched onto one of Mina’s arms and, between them, managed to get her upright before the boy could strike again. “You need to get to the next section,” Basheba called out through the phone gripped in Jeremiah’s free hand. Directions followed before anyone had the breath to demand them. Ozzie’s attempt at memorizing the route they were going was derailed the moment Basheba started taking them through doors. Bedrooms, corridors, and crawlspaces all seemed to loop back in on themselves until it felt like they were running in circles. He couldn’t help but ask if she knew where they were going, half-suspecting that she was lost. “Duh. My kin and I used to play this game all the time,” Basheba replied breathlessly, her voice dismissive but her tone tense. “Chasing each other through the Leviathan is how we learned to hunt. And allude police.” Hunt what? There was no time for the thought to beckon an answer. The sporadic attacks made it impossible for him to tell if or when they had crossed over whatever border Basheba was hinting at, and none of them trusted the peace. The newest direction took them through a green door, and they all fell out onto a cold stone hallway, exhausted and dripping with sweat. Ozzie’s heart lurched into his throat when he caught movement in the corner of his eyes. He was already moving to get the others when his brain caught up with him. Basheba,

Cadwyn, and Buck emerged from a flight of stairs and headed toward them. Breathing hard, she pointed to a nearby door. It was enough to get them moving, and they were soon all within what appeared to be a kitchen. It was a large space, but not impressive. Slabs of heavy wood balanced haphazardly upon stumps, acting as both cutting boards and tables. The deep metal sinks had begun to rust around the edges, along with the cabinets, and the side wall was broken up by three heavy metal doors. Basheba jogged across the room, her steps heavy with fatigue, and rifled through a few cupboards until she found a box of salt. She tossed it to Cadwyn rather than walk back. There was just enough left in the box for him to put a thick strip along the entrance. “What about those?” Mina asked, flopping an arm toward the row of metal doors. “Walk-in fridges. I don’t think there’s much in there, but help yourselves.” Basheba got the water going in the sink and guzzled a few mouthfuls. Everyone cautiously shuffled over to get a drink themselves. Jeremiah eyed the doors nervously as Mina drank. “Can we salt them anyway?” “If you’ve got any with you, Jerry, knock yourself out. But that was my last box.” “Are you sure?” Before Mina could wipe the water off of her chin, Cadwyn was already assessing her for injuries. “You haven’t checked.” “I don’t keep a full pantry,” Basheba dismissed. “What about your backpack?” Ozzie suggested. “Don’t you normally carry some of Mina’s ghost repellent mixture? That stuff seems to work.” “I had to take it out for the flight, ? You all insisted that security wouldn’t like me having unmarked bags of random powders.” The blonde added in a mutter, “This is why I drive everywhere.”

Once everyone had quenched their thirst and Cadwyn was satisfied they were fine, an unsteady silence began to linger. It was a weird kind of standoff, with everyone waiting for Basheba to talk, and Basheba filling her time with fussing over Buck. Mina broke first. “Who was that boy? And the woman?” “Oh, I forget who they belong to.” “I didn’t ask who killed them. I asked who they were.” Basheba glanced up at her. “Like, their names or something? No idea. I just know it’s the kid you have to worry about. Little creep likes to torture things. His mom wanted to spare the family dog, so she took to kidnapping other kids for him to play with.” She scoffed. “She didn’t even care that she was raising a sociopath. They’re both freaks.” “Didn’t your mom teach you how to kill people?” Ozzie could pinpoint the exact moment Jeremiah realized what he had just said. His eyes widened, his shoulders tensed, and he moved just a little bit closer to Cadwyn. Instead of being angry, Basheba just looked honestly confused. “What’s that got to do with anything?” “Nothing,” Ozzie cut in. “Oh, hey, Mina came up with the theory that this place is a giant dybbuk box. Like a demon trap. So, we figure that could be good news. The demon might not want to come in after us if it can’t get back out.” Cadwyn forced a small smile. “We have slightly bad news. It seems quite a few more ghosts might be getting unleashed.” “They’ll all be stuck in different sections,” Basheba elaborated. “But I don’t know who will get what area.” “So, we’re trapped here?” Jeremiah asked. “I know another way back to Grandma’s that should keep us away from the creep and his mom for the most part.”

“We can’t go back. The Ladies are there,” Ozzie argued. Basheba shrugged. “So are all the books. You guys said there might be something in them that can help us, right? Strengthen the dybbuk box or something. Clean up this mess. Kill the demon. A lot of useful stuff.” “But the hellhounds,” Ozzie pressed. “Well, the Ladies like Buck. When he’s around, they tend to be in a better mood.” “What about the opera house?” Cadwyn suggested. “That area must have limited activity for people to continuously use it. We could go there.” “How’s that better than my plan?” “We can’t get trapped down here, Basheba. Up there, we’ll at least have an exit.” “Right. If things get scary, we can always run right into the demon’s waiting arms.” Cadwyn crossed his arms over his chest. “We have to think long term, not just for the next few hours. If we get pinned down in the reef, we’ll starve.” “If we don’t go to my grandma’s rooms, we’re prolonging a problem we might be able to solve.” “If we leave this room,” Jeremiah spouted, “we’re ghost chow.” “Who asked you?” One of the fridge doors slammed open and drowned out Basheba’s words. Frosted air poured out into the room, the fog stirring as dark figures charged the threshold. Cadwyn was on the door in an instant, throwing his full weight upon it to try to force it closed. It jammed with about a foot left to go. The fog continued to roll out, reducing the squirming mass that blocked the door into discolored shadows. Ozzie raced to Cadwyn’s side, Jeremiah ing them a split-second later. Their combined strength managed to keep the door from opening any wider, but they couldn’t work it closed. Buck positioned himself by the opening, pouncing into the mist at random to snap at the unseen figures while Mina asked

Basheba for a knife. Ozzie didn’t hear the rest of the girl’s discussion, but they were soon working together by the kitchen entrance. Mina raked the tip of the knife through the thick line of salt, splitting its length in two, trying to get half of it back into the box Basheba held. The door rattled against Ozzie’s shoulder, the metal vibrating as the creatures fought for their freedom. “Got the salt, just need the door closed,” Basheba said. Cadwyn grunted through clenched teeth, “Working on it.” Jeremiah shifted out of the way and suddenly dropped from Ozzie’s sight. His scream filled the room as the trapped creature pulled him through the gap and into the industrial fridge. The door lurched open a foot more. Basheba dropped the box to take Jeremiah’s place in an attempt to force it back into place. Mina scrambled up, racing across the room as she screamed for her brother, her cries breaking over Buck’s fury. “Mina!” Ozzie called. “Take my spot! I’ll get him!” The door rattled violently without Ozzie’s strength, but the others managed to keep it somewhat in place. Without thought, he jumped through the gap, leaping over whatever Buck was holding off. He instantly ducked, his shorter stature helping him to avoid the swinging meat hooks. They were suspended from the ceiling by frost-covered chains and they all thrashed wildly, filling the space with a harsh metallic clang. Jeremiah’s struggle had thinned the layer of fog that blanketed the floor, and Ozzie caught sight of what hid within it. Severed limbs, dissected torsos, severed heads. Butchered human bodies scuttled across the floor like insects, swarming Jeremiah as he fought to sit up. Bones crunched and seeped out of the writhing heap. “Jer!” He sprinted to Jeremiah’s side, ripping the chunks of exsanguinated flesh off of him. There was always another piece. A few more sickening cracks and Jeremiah’s screams began to dull. Ozzie dug faster, his fingers slipping against the blood that began to slick everything he found within the icy mist. “Ozzie, you’ve got to hurry!” Cadwyn boomed.

Teeth and dead fingers tried to rip open Ozzie’s flesh. He was shoulder-deep in the crush before he finally felt any measure of warmth. Blindly, he latched onto Jeremiah’s arm, braced his feet against the icy floor, and pulled. His muscles strained to their breaking point, and his body trembled. The severed bodies clamored to crush him under their weight. After a sudden slide, Jeremiah was free. “Ozzie!” Basheba screamed. “I’ve got him!” Ozzie dragged Jeremiah’s arm over his shoulder, his thighs burning as he kept them both low enough to avoid the hooks’ reach. He repeated the words to his friend. They stumbled over the grasping body parts, lumbering to the door. Jeremiah was a heavy weight in his arms. The cold temperature cooled the blood and sweat that covered them both. “Come on, Jer. We’re almost there.” Jeremiah nodded slightly, the motion itself was sloppy and drained him of the last of his energy. Ozzie tugged hard, sliding Jeremiah up so he could get a better grip. Body parts tripped them and latched onto Jeremiah, forcing an agonized scream from him as they tried to tear him from Ozzie’s grasp. Metal clashed above their heads. Ozzie set his eyes on the slip of light and charged toward it. All in an instant, Cadwyn blocked the light and reached in to grab them, keeping his weight against the door as best he could. Basheba knelt at his feet. The kitchen knife wiggled in the loose grip of her burned fingers, but her skill was evident. She flayed at the pile blocking the door, severing ligaments and muscles until the limbs could do little more than twitch before she tossed them further into the fridge. It reduced the mound rapidly and let the door close a little more. Ozzie tightened his grip around Jeremiah and reached for Cadwyn’s outstretched hand. Even prepared for it, the sudden tug took Ozzie off-guard. Cadwyn’s large hand was like a vice around his wrist as he threw himself backward, using his body weight to drag the boys along with him. The warmth and light of the kitchen engulfed them. “Now!” Basheba screamed as she slammed the door closed behind them.

In a tangled pile with Jeremiah and Cadwyn, Ozzie looked back to see Basheba braced against the door to hold it in place while Mina finished the line of salt and Buck ravaged whatever parts had managed to follow them. The last grains of salt hit the floor, and silence swallowed the room. Cadwyn slipped out from under them, his ever-present medical kit open and Jeremiah sprawled limply between them. Bite marks and gaping holes in his skin allowed his blood to bubble onto the floor. His breathing was shallow and his eyes rolled as he teetered on the brink of unconsciousness. All Ozzie saw was the blood. It seemed to come from everywhere at once and had already begun to pool under him. “Jer, can you hear me?” Cadwyn snapped on a pair of latex gloves and set to work. “You’re safe. I’m going to take care of you, but I need you to lay still, okay? Mina, I’m going to need you to start stitching up his wounds while I tend to his head.” There’s too much blood. “Is he going to be okay?” Cadwyn didn’t reply. Mina pushed in beside Ozzie, almost shoving him out of the way to get to Jeremiah’s side. She reached into Cadwyn’s kit to get a pair of gloves for herself. “It’s okay, Jer. I’m right here. Don’t worry, just try to relax.” She’s lying. The thought hit Ozzie like a punch to the gut. A copper stench filled his nose and, no matter where he looked, everything was red. There’s too much blood. “Is he…” Dying. The end of his question hung unspoken between them. Cadwyn met Ozzie’s gaze for a second. “There’s so much blood.” Ozzie mouthed the words more than said them. “Don’t look at it, Ozzie.” How? It’s everywhere! “Ozzie.” Cadwyn’s voice rang with unquestionable authority. “Help Basheba.

Mina and I have him. We’ll work this out.” Ozzie nodded numbly and got to his feet. His mind was a cyclone of past events and deep fears. So much blood. He trembled as he watched Mina work on the bite marks. They ate him. His breath caught. They ate him alive. The scene Katrina had forced them to witness so long ago flicked across his mind, the images made all the sharper after seeing the same specters at the barn. Katrina had shown them Basheba and her brother murdering the men; hunting them down and eating their eyes. Jerry’s dying. The hints and suggestions and questions whirled over the forefront of his mind. Katrina wanted us to know. She wanted us to expose the truth, but we didn’t. We protected Basheba instead. That’s why they came after us. It’s why they killed Jerry. Blood coated his hands, thick and warm. His eyes lifted to meet Basheba’s cool gaze. “This is your fault.” Basheba’s eyebrows shot up. “What?” Somewhere in the back of his head, he knew he should be cautious, that the accusation had already pushed him onto dangerous ground. Basheba’s expression swiftly shifted from confusion to something cold and guarded. The warning alarms screamed within his head, but it only propelled his mind into further chaos. Rage began to brew, turning everything inside of him into a putrid sludge. “Are you a cannibal?” Blood rushed through Ozzie’s ears, turning his heartbeat into the pounding of a drum. Cadwyn continued to work on Jer’s head, stitching the wounds closed, although his movements slowed. Mina sat with her mouth hanging open. A breathy laugh escaped Basheba before a smile stretched her lips. “You might want to take a breath and think this through.” Basheba’s eyes hardened even as her face kept its almost child-like innocence. “Some things you can’t come back from, Ozzie.” Swallowing thickly, Ozzie rode the heaving tide of his fear and anger to ask again. “The kraken might force you to kill. But you choose to eat them, don’t you?”

She just stared at him. Like none of this means a damn thing to her. “Are you a cannibal?!” “What a stupid idea.” One corner of her mouth curled into a cruel smile. “You have to eat your own kind to be a cannibal. I’m the last Allaway. There’s no more of my kind left.” Ozzie’s whole body shook as he forced the words out. “Basheba, do you eat human beings?” “Yeah.” She snorted and swung her arm casually out to the side. “So what? Who’s going to stop me?”

Chapter 13

The repetitive squish of Cadwyn’s needle through flesh drew Basheba’s attention. While her confession had momentarily turned Mina and Ozzie to stone, Cadwyn simply continued his work, casually decreasing the flow of blood that oozed from Jeremiah’s skull and the many bite marks that ravaged his skin. Life seemed to flood back into Mina with a gasp. The sound rattled Ozzie and brought him around, too. And here come the consequences, Basheba thought to herself. Heaving a sigh, she leaned her hip against the nearest countertop, trying to recall if she had left any beer behind on her last visit. A bottle or two would certainly help her get through what was sure to be a very irritating or boring conversation. She was still deciding if it was worth the risk of checking the other two fridges when Mina opened her mouth. Jeremiah’s pained moan derailed his sister’s thoughts, and Mina abandoned the topic to crouch beside him. That left Ozzie as the last one standing to force the issue. She expected him to leave it be. From her experience, most people who wanted the truth didn’t know what to do with it when they had it. The younger boy stared her down and began to slowly move. It struck Basheba a second later that he was trying to position himself between her and the others. His posture emphasizing just how much he had bulked up since they had met. “So?” Basheba noisily smacked her lips together. “What are we doing here, Ozzie?” He choked on his own breath. “Hey, this is your rodeo, cowboy. You asked the question. What do you plan to do with the answer?” Watching him shuffle his weight between his feet made her bark a laugh. “Is this a Jerry plan? It looks like a Jerry plan. Hey, we suspect someone of killing a lot of people. Let’s go tick her off. What could go wrong? Seriously, Ozzie, I thought you were smarter than this.” “You eat people!” Ozzie’s outburst made Mina flinch.

A red flush crept up his cheeks as he struggled to regain his composure. Basheba snorted. “Do they count as people?” “You mean because they’re not Allaways?” “How is that still a question for you? I haven’t been shy about my thought processes.” Fury and fear mixed on Ozzie’s face as he thrust his arms out. “None of us are Allaways! Do any of us matter?!” The raised tone made Jeremiah stir. It was little more than a groan, but at least it was a sign of life. “I think we all need to take a second and calm down.” Cadwyn’s voice was as soothing as a trickling stream. “If I get any calmer, I’m going to go to sleep.” Basheba tilted up her chin at Ozzie in a challenge. “So, I guess you’re gonna have to pick a game plan on the fly, huh?” Ozzie shook his head. “How are you not disgusted with yourself?” “The fact that I haven’t done anything wrong softens the blow.” “Nothing wrong? You’re a cannibal! It’s one of the grossest things you can be!” “That’s debatable.” She didn’t have to see Cadwyn to hear the glare in his voice. “This is perhaps not the best time for this conversation.” “No, this is probably the best time,” Ozzie countered. “She’s got two busted arms.” Basheba laughed, bitter and soft. “Careful there, baby boy. That sounded awful close to a threat.” “You need us.”

“That’s an ambitious thought,” Basheba dismissed. “If you haven’t noticed, all the people you’ve murdered are coming back for your ass!” “They’re not mine.” She paused thoughtfully. “Although, I probably did contribute to the meat locker over the years.” “This is what’s going to happen—” Basheba barked another laugh. “Are you trying to threaten me?” Mina flinched but didn’t move from Jeremiah’s side as she ed the conversation. “He’s not going to hurt you, Basheba.” It only made her laugh harder. “Duh! What are you guys thinking? A few spin classes and a bit of vanity muscle is all that’s needed to get into my league?” She met Ozzie’s gaze. “Take your shot. You’ll your friends in the fridge.” “Basheba, please,” Cadwyn said through clenched jaws. “Hey, he’s the one that started throwing threats around.” “I never—” “You tried to command me.” Her scarred fingers shifted along the handle of the kitchen knife. “I don’t like being muzzled.” “You’re not getting out of here alive. Not without our help,” Ozzie said. “And since all of this is your fault, I think I get a say in what we do next.” “My fault?” “You eat people,” Ozzie hissed. “Katrina showed me you eating a man’s eye raw!” “Was I supposed to cook it?” Basheba countered. “You never told us! You keep your secrets, and they keep biting us in the ass!” “Seems like you kept a few secrets of your own. I don’t recall you ever

mentioning your lovely little chats with Katrina.” “We were trying to protect you.” “And I kept my secrets because I couldn’t be bothered telling you. See? We both had equally valid reasons.” Ozzie’s face darkened, and his hands balled tight. He thought better of moving toward her after the first step, but the damage was done. The air itself took on a charge as Basheba straightened, her smile sharpening to a glass edge. “Everyone, stop,” Cadwyn’s voice was calm but cold. “We have larger problems at the moment.” “She eats people! She murders them and consumes their flesh! I know you can take a lot, Cad, but there has to be a limit somewhere!” “I’ve officially reached my limit.” Basheba cut off Cadwyn’s attempt to interject by snarling, “I will not be judged by a snack pack. And for the record, I never heard you complaining about the violent things I do when they worked in your favor.” “That was different.” “How?” Ozzie sputtered in shock. “I didn’t know you were eating people! How many ways can I say it?” “You just itted that you did,” Basheba countered. “The truth is that you didn’t care because my disgusting nature was the only thing keeping you alive.” “I fought just as hard as you did. And we’ve saved you on occasion—” “From situations I wouldn’t have been in if I hadn’t been shackled with your dead weight. Bravo.” She could hear Cadwyn straining for patience as he began to speak. “Basheba —”

“Hey, you don’t get to judge me. Not after what I’ve done for you.” He met her gaze without shame and that made her all the angrier. “None of you would last a week without me,” Basheba hissed. Mina bristled at the prick to her pride. “I’m the one that jumped into the witch fire.” “And I’m the one that dragged you out,” she scoffed. “You know what? I’m being selfish. I shouldn’t make you stay in the den of depravity that my barbaric family created. Please, feel free to leave at any time. I’m sure the demon outside would love to have your company again.” A stray sound caught her ear and the rest of her words died in her throat. The scurrying coursed over the stones beyond the room, before falling silent again. Basheba held her breath, straining to hear any trace of sound as she slowly turned to study the walls. Where are you? “What’s happening?” Mina asked. “Basheba, what’s out there?” “Something I don’t want to meet.” “That doesn’t tell us much,” Mina pressed. Basheba didn’t bother to look at her. Instead, she kept her attention fixed on the walls and the elusive sound of something shuffling beyond them. “It doesn’t normally come up this way.” “What doesn’t?” Ozzie nearly yelled. She shoved down her burst of panic. “Buck, come on, we’re going back to Grandma’s.” “You’re leaving us here?” Mina asked. “No one’s stopping you from following.” She started for the door only to be called back by Cadwyn. “Are we safe here?” “Um…” The scurrying came again. The solid rattling of bones against rock.

“That would be a hard no.” “We need to get Jer to a hospital.” Basheba turned slowly to study Mina’s face. “Wow, seriously? Just lead a demon right into a hospital? Hey, that time you berated me for possibly getting a couple of actors caught in the crossfire?” “Well, what do you suggest?” Mina shot back. Basheba shouted to the ceiling, pausing after each syllable. “Go to Grandma’s room!” “But—” “It has a bed for him to get all comfy in. Magical resources, running water, old protection spells. And a distinct lack of ghost-filled fridges.” “Fine.” Both Mina and Ozzie turned to stare at Cadwyn in shock. “Whatever else you might be thinking of her right now, Basheba’s a survivor, and this is her home turf.” He tied off his last stitch and proceeded to fuss with bandages and gauze while glaring at her. It was an impressive display of multitasking. “We’re all still on your side.” Basheba snorted. “I’m not saying that we condone the behavior. And there’re clearly a few things we need to discuss.” Pausing to instruct Mina and Ozzie on how to best rip apart one of the tables to create a makeshift stretcher, he then added, “But this isn’t an appropriate place to have those conversations.” Under Cadwyn’s supervision, they moved Jeremiah onto the slab. He’s a lot worse off than Cadwyn’s letting on. Mina seemed to realize it, too. Basheba could see it in the way her entire body froze up in an instant. Stunned and silent, she watched Cadwyn and Ozzie lift the stretcher onto another countertop, arranging it so Cadwyn could use a few loops of gauze to secure the injured boy to the board. “We’ll talk about everything when we aren’t in imminent danger,” Cadwyn added.

Basheba’s brow furrowed. “When have we ever done that?” She could almost see the memories flitting across Cadwyn’s mind. Even this didn’t stop his body from carrying out the tasks needed to prepare to move Jeremiah though. “We do communicate a lot better when we’re about to die,” he acknowledged at last. “That’s what I’m saying.” “Let’s break that unhealthy habit, shall we? Ozzie, lift on my nod. Do you want to lead or follow?” “Follow.” “Mina, get between me and Basheba. Keep my medical bag with you. Whatever happens, don’t lose it. We’re going to need it.” ing her his bag, he turned to Basheba. “Is there an easier path we can take?” “Yeah. I know a way. But, before we go, let’s get one thing straight. The first person who starts talking bad about my family is going to get a stabbing. No exceptions. Understood?” “Understood.” A simple nod and the guys lifted Jeremiah. In a swift, well-practiced move, Cadwyn shifted his hands and spun, positioning himself so that he was reaching behind him to hold the wooden slab. It would keep him from having to shuffle backward, but Basheba was pretty sure it would have to be agony for his chest wound. Casting her eyes over the group, she shook her head. “We’re going to be way too slow to outpace it.” Cadwyn smiled. “I have every faith that you’ll make it work.” “Oh, so it’s on me again. Sounds about right.” She would have argued a bit more if Buck hadn’t nuzzled her hand. It was hard

to be full of rage when she was staring into big puppy eyes. Pausing with her hand on the door, she mentally calculated their route, trying to pick out the halls that were most likely to be left alone. “Everyone ready? Let’s start the fun.” They could only risk the surrounding hallways for so long. From there, Basheba asked Mina not to freak, and brought them into a rather narrow tunnel. The claustrophobic girl took it rather well though. I guess the fact that her brother’s probably dying is a good distraction. That and the cold. An underground reservoir ran the entire length of the tunnels, nurturing a chill that created a dank mist. Small shreds of light seeped through strategically placed drainage holes that crossed the ceiling, illuminating the vapor and turning the air gray. Basheba blew a long breath through her chattering teeth, trying and failing to ignore the cold. “Is this okay for him?” Mina whispered to Cadwyn. “He’ll be fine.” The walls trembled. Basheba could feel the vibrations in the coursing fog, and it sent fear sparking through her veins like a livewire. She tightened her grip on the kitchen knife. Picking up the pace, she stalked into the mist, trusting the others to follow. Small chunks of mortar chipped free and toppled down around them like hail. Air flowed around them, changing direction with the motion of the walls, constantly shifting both the mist and light. A mournful cry similar to a whale call rolled around them, seeming to come from everywhere at once. She heard the others stagger behind her and resisted the urge to look back. Her attention had to be on the mist and what could be coming for them. “What was that?” Mina whispered. Knowing she wouldn’t shut up until she got answers, Basheba replied. “The scraping is one of my grandma’s creations. The sound, well, doesn’t the kraken have a lovely singing voice? Now, shut up and pick up the pace.” As one, the group charged down the tunnel. It didn’t take long for the trembling to return. Buck pushed against Basheba’s legs, allowing her to feel the vibrations

of his growl. It’s found us! Mortar crashed down around them as the monster she feared drove itself through the ceiling. Coiling tendrils of mist swallowed the falling debris. Glancing back, she could barely see the others, let alone the monster. With her heart in her throat, she ran faster. The door’s up here. We can make it! “There!” Basheba yelled the word with relief and hurled herself to the side. Splinters drove into her arm as she crashed into the untreated wood. It held in place until Buck launched himself against it as well. Then the hinges broke, and they fell together into the reef’s hallway. Blinded by the sudden burst of light, she groped her way to the far wall, trying to clear the path for the others. Mina stumbled through first. Together, the girls worked to try and salvage what they could of the door, wanting something to block the path, even if it would only get them an extra few seconds. They had to wait for Cadwyn and Ozzie to awkwardly thread the makeshift stretcher through the narrow gap. The second they were out of the way; the girls slammed the door closed. It did little more than stem the tide of the invading mist. There was no chance it would hold. Pain lashed across Basheba’s back. Biting back a scream, she pushed against Mina, forcing them both to the side. The tip of the ghost boy’s knife cut into what remained of the wooden door as he came for them once more. Trying to get out of the way tangled the girls up until they fell to the floor. The ghostly mother loomed over them, reaching down, her torso dispersing around Buck’s fangs. Light glistened off of the boy’s knife as he materialized above them. Filling her lungs until they hurt, Basheba screamed. A wordless cry that hurt her own ears. Instantly, the world around them began to tremble. The mother and boy stilled. “Yeah, the snake’s awake,” Basheba smiled. “Staying for the fun?” The ghosts disappeared, small predators fleeing a far greater threat. “What just happened?” Mina breathed. Basheba pushed her sweat-dampened hair from her face and started running again. “ that creation of Grandma’s I mentioned earlier?” “No.”

Basheba continued regardless. “The snake’s supposed to protect the Leviathan. Keep everything where it should be. Guess it’s not keen on the ghosts running about while the demon’s outside.” “It can hurt ghosts?” Mina asked. “It can hurt anything,” Basheba panted. Mina pushed herself faster. “But it won’t attack us, right?” “That’s up to the kraken, but since something let the ghosts out to begin with, I’m guessing we’re not safe from anything here anymore.” With a thunderous crack, a few feet of the wall exploded. The once-contained water that flowed along the tunnels surged into the hallway. The torrent ripped more stones from their mortar foundations, adding to the hailstorm of debris that the undulating body of the snake created. Her grandma had never told her exactly how many people it had taken to construct the gigantic serpent. The bleached bones clicked together as its body pushed further into the hallway, widening the damage and breaking through in other places as it searched for them. Basheba and Mina raced to close ranks with the guys. Still gripping the knife in her slick grip, Basheba turned to meet Buck’s gaze and placed a finger to her lips. It was a simple command that he was trained to obey, and it was an added relief that the others took the warning, too. They ran as silently as they could, fleeing the creature that was demolishing random sections of the Leviathan. Taking a sharp left, she led them through various rooms and hallways till her grandmother’s suite sat only three doors down. Basheba sprinted toward it. In the distance, the walls shattered, allowing the serpent to emerge into the corridor. It bore down upon them as Basheba reached the door and pushed her way through, the others on her heels. Two steps in and she skidded to a stop with only about a foot separating her from the Ladies. “Basheba?” Mina panted the question as the Leviathan quaked around them. She waved them to the side, too afraid to move as the three hellhounds bared their fangs. Buck remained by her side as the others shifted away, staring down the hounds before him. His tail slowly wagged to thump against the back of

Basheba’s legs. The serpent closed in behind them and, as one, the hounds attacked. Basheba raised her arms to defend herself as she stumbled back. An arctic chill filled her bones, bringing her to her knees. The onslaught froze her brain, leaving her grappling for reality. “Basheba.” Mina’s body rippled around the edges when she dropped into Basheba’s line of sight. “What do we do?” Blinking hard, she turned her eyes to the door. They’re driving it away. “Grandma said they protected the reef as well,” Basheba muttered. “Are we safe in here?” Ozzie asked. A bitter smile pulled at her numbed lips. “We’re not safe anywhere.”

Chapter 14

The antique furniture didn’t have the padding to be comfortable. Mina painfully adjusted her weight, careful not to jostle Jeremiah’s hand. The sounds of the battle were distant but constant. A low rumble that refused to let the tension in her chest to fade. She didn’t know how much time had ed. All she knew was that nothing that had happened had stirred Jeremiah at all. He was still breathing, though, and she clung to that fact. Cadwyn said he would be okay. She repeated the thought like a mantra. It was easier to handle than the alternative—that Cadwyn was lying. Ozzie had brought books into the living room, piling them around the bed, allowing them both to keep searching for something that could help them without leaving Jeremiah’s side. If either of them had found anything useful, they were too ignorant to know it. “Do you think this could help?” Mina braced the book against her chest, allowing Ozzie to see the page without releasing Jeremiah’s hand. This day had made it very clear that her Latin was far worse than she had thought. Although, she was fairly sure ‘favor’ was in the title. “We could ask the kraken for protection.” “Are you sure we’d be asking the kraken?” Ozzie replied, leaning forward to scan the title. “With our luck, we’d end up selling our souls to the devil.” Mina didn’t have a response for that. “Basheba.” Ozzie had to call for her twice more before he got a response. Basheba sat huddled with Buck, her eyes locked on the door, waiting. “What now?” “What do you think?” “About what?” Basheba asked in an off-hand manner. “Jerry needs help.”

“Cadwyn’s over there.” “Outside help. A doctor. A hospital.” Basheba arched an eyebrow. “Did you not hear what I told Mina before? You really want to bring a demon to a hospital? And did Cadwyn say Jerry needs help, or did you?” Ozzie winced and faltered, his eyes darting to Cadwyn. The nurse returned from the bathroom with a basin full of fresh water and, without a word, set about washing Jeremiah’s wounds. “Yeah, I’m not gonna freak out until the medical professional does,” Basheba dismissed. “But he doesn’t freak out about anything,” Ozzie protested. Basheba finally turned to look at Ozzie. “We can get going the second you find something useful. Oh, and I’m just throwing this out there as a person who’s had a few concussions in my day. Even though you don’t completely grasp what’s going on around you, you pick up on the mood.” Basheba forced a smile and seemed to mimic Cadwyn’s mannerisms. “So, if you want to help him, let’s stick to nice, placid tones, yeah?” Ozzie swallowed thickly and nodded. “Yeah.” Mina squeezed her brother’s limp hand. She hadn’t expected a response, but the lack of one still cut her. When Basheba turned back to Buck, Ozzie stared at her for a long time, his frustration brewing on his face. Then he drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. At that moment, Mina could see the boy she had first met. A teenager sinking under the weight of a thousand things he had never thought could exist. Time ed, and Jeremiah remained still under Cadwyn’s care. “Is there anything I can do?” Ozzie asked in barely more than a whisper. Cadwyn had a soft smile as he looked at the handbasin he had been using. Blood tainted the water with a maroon hue. “Fresh water would be great.”

“Right. I can do that.” Ozzie scrambled to his feet and collected the bowl before pausing to ask. “Warm or cold?” “Warm, thank you.” With the basin cupped between both hands, Ozzie set off into the bathroom. Mina turned to smile at him and noticed the state he was in. Jeremiah’s blood stained the front of Ozzie’s sweat-dampened shirt a brilliant red. It had already dried on his hands and forearms, turning brown and flaking as his skin moved. He must have seen it. He must have smelled it. And yet, he calmly and completed his task and swiftly returned. Mina took the full basin, pointed out a liquor bar that was put against one of the walls and asked if he could get them some glasses of water. Once he set off again, she leaned forward to whisper. “What is going on with you?” Cadwyn flicked his gaze from her to Basheba before continuing what he was doing. “It’s nothing to be concerned about.” “We are long past that point.” His eyes returned to Basheba. The blonde continued fussing over her dog, completely unaware of what was happening behind her. “Keep your voice down.” “What are you concerned about? If she knows you’re sick, you might be off the menu.” Basheba’s head popped up. “What was that?” Cadwyn flinched. “Just a reminder that we’re going to have to have a long conversation about your nutritional habits.” “I have a well-balanced diet, thank you. I get a lot of protein.” “Generations of cannibalism can lead to a lot of medical problems,” Mina noted. She snorted. “So can generations of hardcore inbreeding, but that’s never been a problem. Mom supposed it was one of the kraken’s ticks—”

“Inbreeding?!” Ozzie screeched. “Oh, grow up. We’re all products of inbred cannibals. Sure, you might have to trace back longer in your family to find the people-eating, but the inbreeding? Ask Percival how many Sewalls married their cousins. Now, let’s get back to Cadwyn.” “Jer is the one who’s unconscious, you psychopath,” Mina snarled. “He’s got a kick-ass nurse to look after him. What has Cadwyn got? You? Forgive me if I’m concerned.” She got to her feet and stepped toward them. “There’s nothing wrong with me,” Cadwyn said. “I had a full checkup—” It was strange to see Basheba so shocked. “When?” “Just after I got back to work.” Watching him use his forearm to wipe at the sweat dripping down his temple, Mina offered her glass of water. He gulped it down. “You didn’t tell me.” “You didn’t tell me about your diet,” Cadwyn countered. Basheba looked chastised and mumbled to the floor. “What did they find?” “Nothing. I was given a complete physical. They even went so far as to give me a CT scan and lumbar puncture.” “A what?” Basheba stammered. “Spinal tap. My point is that they did everything they could do, and it all came back normal. I’m in good health.” She shuffled her weight between her feet. “What does this mean?” “There’s no natural reason for my fevers.” The realization hit them all at once. Cadwyn returned to fussing over Jeremiah, avoiding eye . Basheba was the one to voice their concern.

“The cause is supernatural.” “Maybe.” “When were you going to tell me?” He heaved a sigh. “When we sat down to have that conversation that we promised we were going to have.” “Why wait?” “Why did you keep putting off the conversation?” Cadwyn retorted. “This is just one of the many things we need to sit down and honestly discuss.” “Mason was giving you a checkup!” “That was your idea.” “But,” Basheba stammered, flinging her arm about her in her frustration. “How did you not see that as the perfect time to say something?” “Perfect? No, you’re right, of course, it was the perfect time. You were clearly in the mood to openly and honestly discuss such a personal and confronting topic. The prospect of being around my family had left you so relaxed and rational. Your guard was completely down. And it wouldn’t have mattered at all that my family was, at that very moment, converging on the house we were standing in to scream at Sylvia about her terrible decision-making skills. That wouldn’t have been distracting.” “Think you can say any of that without the sarcasm?” Cadwyn crossed his arms over his chest. “When were you going to tell me you’re a cannibal?” Basheba’s mouth opened before her words caught up. “I was going to tell you.” “When?” A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. “During that conversation we were totally going to have.”

Cadwyn snorted a laugh and shook his head. “We really should have done that.” “Probably. Are you feeling okay? I mean, you’re not in pain, are you?” “I’m just hot. And moody, apparently.” “I have to it, you seem pretty calm right now. Almost creepily. Aren’t you going to at least yell at me?” Closing his eyes, he shook his head. “Why do people keep forgetting where I work?” Finishing up with Jeremiah, he pulled off his latex gloves. “There’s nothing you’ve confessed that I haven’t run into a dozen times over.” Basheba gasped. “Are you saying that I’m boring?” The overdramatic reaction succeeded in getting him to laugh. Neither Ozzie nor Mina ed in. Although, Mina did have to it that it cut the tension in the room. What little relief they had garnished was shattered when Cadwyn’s phone blared to life. He settled himself on the floor next to the bed, angling himself so he could keep a sharp eye on Jeremiah at all times, and answered the phone with forced cheerfulness. “Hi, Aunt Edith.” Basheba shook her head rapidly and mouthed ‘no’. There was a spark of pure fear in her eyes. She doesn’t want Edith to know. Cadwyn waved her off while trying to focus on the conversation. “There’ve been a few issues. No, we’re all alive. A little worse for wear, but still breathing. How are things there?” His change in conversation eased Basheba somewhat. “Hold on.” Cadwyn pulled the phone away and made sure his aunt couldn’t see Jeremiah. Mina and Ozzie moved behind him just before he switched to a video chat. Edith filled the screen; a woman in her nineties with fake ample assets on display in a red sequin dress. If only I had that kind of confidence. “How’s your head?” Cadwyn asked.

Edith pulled back some of her bangs to display a bandage taped to her temple. “Head’s fine. Ego’s still aching. Oh, darlin’, it does my heart good to see all of you. Where’s Basheba? And the Crane boy?” “Jeremiah’s resting. And Basheba’s a little distracted with Buck. She’ll see me waving her over soon enough.” Mina schooled her features and hoped it hid her discomfort. She’d never been in a position to see Cadwyn lie so blatantly. He was so unnervingly good at it, she had to wonder how often he had lied to her. “Are you sure it’s safe to talk?” Cadwyn asked. “I don’t want you in any danger.” “Boy, where do you think you got your brains from? It wasn’t ya daddy.” Cadwyn chuckled, and she took that as a cue to shift to a more serious subject. “People are going back to Black River.” “Oh, we know about the tourists,” Mina said. “Let me rephrase. Family has been going back to Black River.” Mina hadn’t noticed Basheba moving until the tiny woman leaned against Cadwyn’s back. “What are they up to?” “Hello, honey,” Edith cooed. Basheba beamed. “Love the dress.” “This old thing? This is my sleuthing outfit.” The screen shifted as she readjusted her grip on the phone. “Barnaby’s been insisting that everyone keep me out of the loop to protect my ‘delicate sensibilities.’ I swear, that man’s so small, he could stroll under a snake’s belly. Oh, sorry, Mina, dear. I know you share some DNA there.” “We also share a lot with pigs,” Basheba shrugged. “True enough. Anyway, from what I’ve gathered, he’s running around like a

town crier telling all the families about Katrina’s offer.” “He’s still going on about that?” Basheba pushed against Cadwyn’s back as she ranted. “Katrina has left the building. She’s not doing anything but serving as entertainment for demons in hell. God! He’s lowered my standards so much that I’ll be happy if he grows just one brain cell!” Cadwyn bumped forward again as he asked, “What’s the offer?” “She wants everyone to come home.” “For a Harvest?” “No. Apparently, she wants everyone to live in Black River again. There are a few rumors that having Claudia around has changed her perspective. Now, she wants everyone to come home. Those who do will be spared the visit I received.” “I don’t get it.” Mina’s brow furrowed, and her fingers found their way to the tips of her short hair. “What’s the end game of that? If she’s aiming for the complete annihilation of the bloodlines, there are easier ways to go about it.” “It’s not Katrina!” Basheba shouted to the ceiling. “That doesn’t answer anything; it only poses more questions. Why do they need to return? Why now?” Ozzie perked up. “The cult.” “There isn’t much cult left,” Mina mumbled as she tugged her hair. “Exactly. She’ll want to fill the ranks.” Hearing Basheba suck in a breath, he rushed to add, “Or whoever is in control now.” Cadwyn picked up the thought. “It’s about the land, not the witch. What was it Claudia said?” “Beats me,” Basheba shrugged. “Every time she speaks, all I hear is ‘please hit me in the face.’”

“No, Cadwyn’s right. She said there was something special about Black River,” Mina said. A few minutes of thought were broken by Basheba’s begrudging huff. “The land is tainted. The only way to stop all of this is to wipe Black River off of the map. What? Yeah, okay, I paid attention to that one thing. I’ve been fantasizing about burning that town to ash since I was six.” “I’m surprised it took you that long.” Cadwyn only smiled when Basheba shoved him. “So, this is about the land?” Ozzie asked. “Let’s not forget about Whitney’s benefactor,” Mina added. “We’ve seen both Katrina and Whitney perform mass sacrifices to it. I’d say it needs it for some reason. And it has to be offering something impressive in return if it’s able to draw in multiple women.” “Hold up.” Basheba shifted to the side, leaning over one of Cadwyn’s shoulders and leaving the other for Buck. Cadwyn smiled as the Rottweiler dropped his head heavily onto him. “Are you saying that we need to burn down Black River?” Edith smiled indulgently at Basheba’s glee. “Not until Mason gets back.” “You let him go alone? Did you forget what happened to Lisa?” Mina interrupted. Basheba’s brow furrowed. Mina fought for patience as she reminded her. “The private investigator I hired. The one who went into the Witch Woods and was never seen or heard from again. Edith, you have to get him out.” “Mason will be fine, dear,” Edith assured. “He was born into the Hellmouth cult.” Cadwyn noticed their confused faces. “I guess it was before your time. Now I feel old.” Edith said, “Oh, poor baby. Basheba, can you pat him sympathetically for me?”

Cadwyn endured a few bops on his head before explaining. “The Hellmouth cult was formed on the belief that some people are born as living gateways to hell. The only way to sever that connection is to kill the host. Back in the day, they were responsible for a series of brutal murders that eventually gained FBI attention. It took them a while to track them down to their compound, but, when they raided it, the place was all but deserted. The only cult they found were the leader himself and a few children hidden inside a fallout shelter.” “That’s all? Where were all the adults?” Ozzie asked. “Depends if you believe the leader or not. He claimed that the compound had been overrun by demons and that he and the children were the only survivors.” “I’m sure that went over well,” Mina said. “The police and media were torn between two major theories. Either, like Mason, the rest of the cult saw the writing on the wall and ran, or they scattered to continue their work. Whatever the truth, people lost interest and the cult settled into obscurity.” “How is that possible?” Mina asked. “A murderous cult on the loose and no one cares?” “Nothing stays in the news cycle if there’re no new developments. The leader stuck to his story, the kids themselves didn’t know anything, and the killings stopped. What more could the media do but make a Lifetime documentary once a year and move on to their next story? As for the police; they have limited resources. They couldn’t work a cold case forever.” Cadwyn’s smile was bitter and sad. “My point is, Mason was trained to literally fight the forces of hell, and he didn’t stop his training just because he left the ‘family’. If I didn’t believe he could handle himself, I wouldn’t have suggested he be Edith’s bodyguard.” “I thought he was my nurse,” Edith cut in. “Or our future uncle,” Basheba added. Avoiding eye with both women, Cadwyn looked like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Eventually, he mumbled that a person can be more than one thing at a time and leaped back into the main conversation.

“He’s doing some reconnaissance?” “We figured that none of the other families, and the townsfolk for that matter, would know who he is. And he’s skilled enough to dodge the few Winthrops that would recognize his face. He’d get more answers than I would. Once he checks in, I’ll let you know more.” “But you’re somewhere safe?” Cadwyn might have spoken it as a question, but it was clear he meant it as a command. “Yes, dear. I’m actually visiting Amberlynn at the moment.” It was a name Mina didn’t recognize, but she didn’t have time to ask about Cadwyn’s family tree. “Which one?” Cadwyn asked. “Sylvia’s mother.” “In Montana? You hate Montana.” “Yes, dear. But she’s the one in charge of an old family tradition. Basically, she warehouses all the things we want to keep from the menfolk. Caroline’s letters included.” “Her letters?” Mina perked up. “You never told me you had access to them.” “You’re not a Winthrop. I’m sure the Cranes have plenty of secrets of their own.” “Yeah, like the giving of belladonna as a parting gift before a Harvest,” Basheba mumbled. Guilt twisted in Mina’s gut at the reminder of when her mother had given her the deadly plant to kill the others during her first Harvest. It felt like a thousand years ago. Cadwyn didn’t linger on the past as he asked, “You’re hoping that there’s something in them that could help?”

“She set off to find a way to kill the witch. Perhaps she found something she didn’t know was important.” A sharp crash made the old woman jump before she heaved a sigh. “Sylvia’s starting up again. She’s trying to convince Rayne to move to Black River with her.” Basheba made a disgusted sound. “Sylvia is the worst.” “I didn’t raise her.” A smile brightened her face when she looked back at the phone’s camera. “I have to go; she’s going to come in soon. Rest assured, I’ll call you back the second I know something. Stay safe, all of you.” “We will, Aunty.” The instant Cadwyn ended the call, the walls began to rattle and the Ladies came bounding inside the room.

Chapter 15

The weight instantly left Cadwyn’s shoulders as both Buck and Basheba lurched away from him. The dull scrape of bones against stone echoed in from all directions, as if the serpent was wrapping itself around the room. “How do we keep it out?” Mina asked. “Um…” “Basheba! How do we keep it out?” The blonde stared at the door. “If I knew, I would have done it by now.” Deep cracks formed across the walls, announcing the return of the snake. This time, the hellhounds couldn’t force it away. It remained, throwing itself against the walls, trying to bash its way in. Spiderweb cracks had worked their way across the room and were now showering plaster and dust down upon Jeremiah. “You might want to move him,” Basheba commented. Another solid thud rattled the light fixtures and made them flicker. “The bathtub. It will at least protect him on a few sides.” Cadwyn pointed to Ozzie. “Help me.” Mina stood up in a rush, clutching the book she was still holding to her chest and catching Ozzie’s attention. “Should we risk doing the spell?” “The snake’s breaking in,” Basheba answered for him. “Either we do something now, or I’m going to start lighting fires.” “How would that help?” Ozzie demanded. “It’ll make me feel better. And will probably offer me a less painful death.”

Cadwyn crouched to gather up his medical kit. “Do the spell.” It didn’t take much effort for Ozzie to take Jeremiah’s weight. They swiftly moved across the shattered, debris-strewn floor and into the bathroom. There, Ozzie lowered him into the tub, ensuring that his head and back lay flat against the bottom. “Get some pillows and a blanket,” Cadwyn ordered. The girls and Ozzie rushed around the room, their movements growing more frantic as the assault against the walls continued. The Ladies bounded in and out of the room, seeping through the walls while Buck guarded the door. Resounding cracks had Cadwyn lurching forward, trying to shield the unconscious boy with his body. The pipes cracked through the walls, spewing their contents in a constant gurgling babble. Ozzie returned with a bedsheet bundled in his arms. Dropping to his knees on the other side of the tub, Cadwyn worked with him to hurriedly cover Jeremiah and then pulled the sheet taut. Basheba and Mina returned, running as best they could over the trembling floor. Basheba swept the scattered rocks off of the rigid sheeting, clearing the space for the small array of items she was carrying. “Is my brother in there?” Mina asked as she ed them. “He’s not complaining, and we need a table.” Basheba held up a tarnished copper chalice. “I found it on the drinks cart. Think it’ll work?” Cadwyn hadn’t heard the girl’s conversation, but he hurriedly reassured her that it would be perfect. “We can’t half-ass this,” Ozzie said. Basheba was tossed against the tub, the shock waves causing the water to flow in churning waves around them. “What part of this situation makes you think we have time for full-ass?” She shoved her blonde hair out of her eyes and glared at him. Cadwyn ignored the expression and began to hurriedly tape one of the plastic bags he kept in his medical kit over her cast. By now, he knew well enough that

the plaster never survived these encounters, but he felt compelled to do something. “But the snake listened to your grandmother.” “So did the Ladies. What’s your point?” Ozzie struggled for words. “Can’t you make it stop?” “If I didn’t make it clear earlier—Grandma might have made the snake, but the kraken controls it!” Ozzie’s brow furrowed. “So, the kraken is letting it attack us? It’s letting it destroy the Leviathan and possibly kill you?” “Yes!” Basheba screeched. “I explained this to you before! Weren’t you listening in the caves? No one ever wins in these deals, Ozzie. The kraken has never given a gift without a tentacle attached and it never creates something it can’t destroy. Now, I don’t know exactly what we’ve done to piss it off, but it’s not playing around.” Mina shook her head. “How can you be sure the kraken has anything to do with it? Maybe a spell’s broken, like the seals—” “Do you not see all this water?!” Basheba nearly yelled in exasperation. “Kraken. Water. They kinda go together!” “That’s a reach—” “Then why are we asking the kraken for a favor?!” Ozzie cut in. “Because it likes making deals. If it knows we’re willing to play, it might back off. I mean, there’s got to be a reason why it hasn’t turned the Ladies against us. It must want us to do something, right?” “You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?” Ozzie demanded. “Of course, I don’t! No one ever prepared me for something like this! I’ve spent my entire life trying to keep off the kraken’s radar. It terrifies me!”

“You made a deal with it,” he countered. “To save you! All of you! Look, this dam is breaking, and I’m plugging the holes as fast as I can, but I need a little help. Mina, can you just please do the spell?” “Me?” “You’re the one who’s been researching witches!” The vicious cry of the hellhounds settled any protest Mina could have mounted. Mina whimpered in fear and frustration, lurching forward to reread the page she had found earlier. “This spell requires blood.” “What? Black magic requires bodily fluids? I am shocked.” “Well, this is a plea to the kraken—probably—and it clearly has a major crush on Allaways. Or at least it did. Let’s bank on nostalgia.” Pulling herself up by the rim of the tub, she got into Basheba’s face. “Get ready to shed a little.” “Fine! But next time it’s your turn!” Mina shuffled closer to Basheba, and they began working at a frantic pace to follow the instructions of the spell. Neither spared the time to explain it aloud, but Cadwyn and Ozzie already knew their role. Keep the sheet taut enough to be used as a table and stay out of the way. Basheba had to draw the chalice closer to hold it with her cast-covered arm. The plastic bag Cadwyn had secured over her cast offered some protection from the water spray that jetted through the air. With more haste than care, the girls poured the sandy contents of the different bags into the chalice. “Okay. All that’s left is to add the blood, light it up, and make the request,” Mina said. “On it.” Basheba reached behind her only to release a frustrated scream when she recalled she was wearing a dress. “Anyone got a knife? Oh, forget it.” Not waiting for a response, she snatched up a broken shard of stone, working it across her scarred palm until blood drizzled over her skin. “I have scalpels in my bag,” Cadwyn grumbled. “Have you heard of bacteria?”

“I’m not exactly worried about it at the moment. You got your lighter?” “Front pocket.” Blood streaked against his jeans as Basheba slipped her hand inside and retrieved the lighter. He regained control of his senses just in time to watch her light the small pile of sand. It sparked and hissed, slowly changing from orange to blue, with only a few slips of pink working through the mass. She bent over the chalice and snarled, “Okay, you creepy octopus, you made a deal with my grandmother and you’re going to keep it.” “Maybe try it without the sass,” Cadwyn suggested. Basheba hissed through her teeth then tried again. “Fine. Kraken, I want the power to destroy my grandma’s bone serpent.” The small flames sputtered and died in thin trails of smoke. Nothing else changed. “That’s it?” Ozzie asked. “What do we do now?” None of them had expected the blast. It came with the first toll of a heavy bell; a solid push of air that sent them all flying in different directions. Cadwyn came to a sudden, bone-rattling stop as he slammed into a wall. Lights danced before his eyes, but Buck’s sharp cries kept him grounded to the waking world. He searched hurriedly for the others, finding them all in clear sight, one against each wall. The entire world seemed to vibrate with the second toll of the unseen bell. The water quivered around him as he struggled to get up. He could feel it coming—a growing dread that crushed him from the inside out and left him breathless. With the third toll, the ceiling above the bathtub caved in, gouging out a hole for a torrent of frothing water to rain down. He braced himself against the wall to withstand the sudden onslaught. It only took a few seconds for it to run its course, but it left them in utter shock. “Jer!” Mina screamed. She threw herself at the tub, desperately clawing at the chunks of wood and stone that weighed down the blanket in the now full tub. They all ed her, working between them to dig their way to Jeremiah, ignoring everything else

around them as they focused on the singular task. At last, they moved enough that they were able to peel back one edge of the blanket. Snakes oozed through the gaps in the cloth—a writhing mass that flowed out in pulses to drop onto the floor; fangs bared and bodies coiled, ready to strike. It took a narrow miss to force Mina and the others back. The snakes hit the water, slithering through the shallow pool to expand out and block their path. Despite their efforts, they were forced back out into the main room, now pinned between the serpent trying to get in and the horde of snakes still pouring out of the water-filled tub. “We have to do something,” Mina choked through her tears. Within the same moment, Ozzie started for some of the rubble, declaring that they could use the broken wood to push the snakes aside. The dogs fell silent, and Jeremiah’s hand smashed through the side of the bathtub with a resounding crack. Water and snakes gushed out like blood from a severed artery. Buck curled around Basheba’s legs as he began to whimper, the Ladies protectively closing ranks around them. Cadwyn was silently grateful that the hellhounds seemed to be currently on their side and that the kraken hadn’t left them completely unguarded. Everything still piled upon the tub exploded up as Jeremiah lurched to his feet. He wobbled as the snakes dripped from his trembling shoulders. “Jer?” Mina cautiously stepped toward him. “Jer?” He had half-turned toward them when his legs buckled and he fell to the ground with a harrowing scream of pain. The air filled with the crack of snapping bones. His clothes did nothing to hide the way his body shifted and bulged. His rib cage jolted up and broadened. A series of quick crunches elongated his limbs. Claws tore free of his fingertips, and he used them to gouge at his flesh. At an increasingly rapid pace, he tore himself apart, flinging the bloody clumps in all directions. Cadwyn could only watch in horror at the scene unfolding before him. “Jer! Stop!” Mina started for her brother, but Ozzie had the sense to hold her back. Matted patches of coarse fur poked out from the bleeding wounds he created. Blood glistened on leathery, almost reptilian skin. His scream morphed into a

howl as he peeled off his face, revealing a short canine snout full of sharpened fangs. ts popped as the beast that had been Jeremiah rolled onto his hind legs. At full height, it towered over Cadwyn, his bones pushing against narrowed but strong muscles. The beast scanned the room with glowing red eyes. They all jolted back when they caught its attention. It released a long, vicious growl, and its curved talons clicked against the stones as it lowered once more onto all fours. But the energy was different this time. It’s hunting, Cadwyn thought, stunned at Jeremiah’s change. The thought didn’t have time to settle before the wall behind him was decimated by the bone serpent. Its colossal head, a clustered mass of human skulls melded into one, worked through the wall. A hailstorm of debris forced the group a little closer to the beast that Jer had become. Both Mina and Ozzie screamed at the sight. Cadwyn’s breath lodged in his throat while Basheba crouched lower to hide amongst the mass of dogs. The snake raised its head, its jaws opening to display the sharpened human ribcages that served as its fangs. It struck down, angling for Cadwyn’s flesh. The beast launched itself at its rival predator, its claws cleaving into the clustered skulls that formed the serpent’s head. Shattered bone fragments scattered across the room. The snake twisted, latching onto the beast before driving through the floor. In a few seconds, the entire length of the serpent had gone through the gap and the room had stilled. They were left with their own harsh breathing, the spray of the broken pipes, and the wet slither of the snakes behind them. “Basheba?” Mina whispered. “Yeah?” “Did you just turn my brother into a werewolf?” After a heartbeat, she replied, “I’d say it was more of a team effort.”

Chapter 16

Judging by the blood that now stained the front of his shirt, Cadwyn had popped a stitch or two at some point, and Mina wasn’t doing much better. Ozzie doubted she had thought to include this much water when testing her new prosthetic and something had probably started to chafe. They both needed a rest, but there wasn’t any time as Basheba barreled down the hallways. Buck and the Ladies made an ebony sea that filled the width of the broken hallway. Thick cracks in the walls exposed beams and the toppled lamps buzzed as they struggled to hold onto their glow. Nowhere had been left untouched by the damage, leaving the group to wonder how much was caused by the monsters trapped within the Leviathan, and how much the kraken might have orchestrated itself. Sweat was dripping down Ozzie’s skin by the time Basheba found the door she was looking for and they rushed inside. The door was a feeble barrier to what was happening, but Basheba still spared a second to slam it shut and lock it in place. Everyone took advantage of the sudden reprieve to gasp for air. As the only one left not doubled over, Ozzie felt rather vindicated about his intense training routine. “Jeremiah’s a werewolf,” Mina said numbly. “Fine, you want me to it it? This one might be on me!” Basheba declared, throwing her arms out as wide as she could. “I wasn’t specific in my request. I gave the kraken too much wiggle room to screw us over. It was a rookie mistake. There. Feel better? No? Then shut it and let me fix this.” Cadwyn slumped against the wall beside the door and wiped the sweat from his face. “In hindsight, doing the spell on top of him might not have been the wisest choice.” “Another good point,” Basheba noted, snapping her fingers and pointing in his vague direction. At the noise, Buck dropped to lay at her feet, watching her intensely for the next instruction. After a second of contemplation, the Ladies mimicked him. The three hellhounds somehow made a rather submissive gesture look like a

challenge. Basheba eyed them cautiously while Ozzie nervously checked the room. It wasn’t as large as her grandmother’s rooms had been and it was stripped of any hint of Victorian elegance. Everything was more earthy and primal, constructed of metal and stone and varying shades of brown. Animal furs covered the bed to the left and there was a small bathroom to the right. None of it had been spared the expanding destruction. “Where are we?” Cadwyn asked. Basheba startled when one of the Ladies crept closer to lick the blood dripping from her damaged hand. “This was my aunt’s room.” The question toppled out of Ozzie’s mouth without thought. “Is this just an aunt? Or, like, your aunt and maybe your grandma?” “Oh, incest joke. Hilarious.” Basheba inched back from the hellhounds and started searching the room. Cadwyn looked as though he was about to protest, or attempt to help, but in the end, he pressed a hand against his chest with a pained grunt. Something is seriously wrong with him. Basheba’s words broke through Ozzie’s spike of panic. “She’s just my aunt.” She sank down to look under the bed and mumbled quickly, “And maybe a cousin.” “How—” The blonde’s composure collapsed. Everything within arm’s reach fell victim to her crazed attack. Kicking, screaming, clawing, her scarred hand left bloody streaks over everything she touched. Ozzie watched, frozen in terror. He’d seen Basheba afraid; witnessed her calm fury that let her murder her Uncle Isaac without remorse and savagely slaughter monsters. But this was different. This is helplessness. His stomach went cold. She doesn’t think we’re going to make it. Cadwyn wiped the sweat from his face and reached for her. “Basheba.”

“Stop!” Blood dripped from her hand as she pointed it in his direction. “I’m fine, okay? I know they’re in here somewhere. I just have to find them and then I can take care of everything.” She looked around blindly and launched herself in a random direction. “I just need to find them.” “I’ll help you,” Cadwyn assured. “What are we looking for?” “Her weapons!” Her voice cracked with unshed tears as her anger crumbled. “She was weirdly attached to the ones she used in her sacrifices. No one else was allowed to use them. I know she hid them away in here somewhere.” “Okay.” Cadwyn approached her slowly. “We’ll look. But, worst-case scenario, I’m sure we can get weapons from somewhere else.” Basheba cackled. “Sure. We’ll go to the kitchen and get some steak knives. That should even out this fight.” Ozzie didn’t have a chance to move his head before Mina screamed. “My brother is still a werewolf fighting a bone snake!” Cadwyn ignored the outburst to snatch up Basheba’s hand. She bristled at the but didn’t try to pull away. At some point when Ozzie wasn’t paying attention, Cadwyn had regained his emergency kit. He doused Basheba’s bleeding hand with sterilized water but was out of proper bandages to wrap around it. Instead, in a flurry of swift movements, he pressed a strip of gauze around her palm and secured it with some medical tape. “What are we looking for specifically?” he asked as he worked. “Swords, crossbows, battleaxes. You know, weapons.” “Why would she have any of those?” Mina interjected as she and Ozzie began to rip the room apart. Her anger bled into iration as she explained. “My aunt thought that the sacrifices meant more if there was a personal risk. She favored the gladiator method. Select someone, train them for a few months with their weapon of choice, and then battle to the death. Making the weapons herself was a part of her ritual.”

Ozzie shoved aimlessly at the wardrobe he had just ransacked. The room was so sparse that he had already checked all of the hiding places he could think of. Aided by a sudden tremor and a chipped ing leg, the wardrobe fell and shattered against the stone floor, the shards of wood giving way to glimpses of metal. “You found them!” Basheba raced across the room to all but throw herself on the debris. She was hunting for something in particular and the others were forced to dodge discarded weaponry as they approached. With a cry of victory, she reared back, her scarred hand grasping her prize. An ax? Ozzie didn’t know what he had been expecting, but he was still rather disappointed. The ax’s handle was short and carved into intricate patterns that offered both decoration and grip. It was also thick enough that Basheba’s limited dexterity didn’t seem to be an issue. The blade curved till the bottom tip almost rested against the handle itself, creating a loop that Basheba slipped her cast-covered arm into. Allowing it to swing from her arm made it possible for her to work the casing off and reveal the blade itself. Swirls of color made the metal look like rippling water. “Aunt promised this to my brother when we were little. I was so mad.” It didn’t matter that the room was dim; the polished steel reflected every last trace of light. “I always knew it was meant to be mine.” “Is that Damascus steel?” Mina noticed Ozzie’s confused glance a moment later. “There’s this special process that makes steel light while keeping its strength and integrity. It was a hugely guarded secret in the middle ages.” “It’s Allaway steel,” Basheba huffed. “It’s completely different.” “How?” Ozzie asked. Basheba bristled. “Ours is better. Duh.” “How?” Mina practically vibrated with irritation. “What did your family do that’s so special?” “Is there a spell on it?” Ozzie offered. Basheba looked at them both before snorting dismissively, as if the answer was

obvious. Or like a kid trying to convince someone that Santa is real. He was starting to suspect that, for all her love and devotion, Basheba was just as ignorant about her family as he was about his own. Basheba let the loop cradle her cast as she worked the strap of a crossbow and its quiver over her shoulders. “I don’t have time to play ‘twenty questions’, all right? I need to find Jerry.” Mina froze in place like the life had been sucked out of her. “Are you suggesting that we kill Jer?” “Don’t worry, I’ll shoot him in the face first. He won’t feel a thing.” “No.” “Who’s going to stop me?” “We haven’t even tried to save him,” Ozzie protested. “I’ve seen what something like that can do,” Basheba said. “And trust me, you don’t want that thing running around with us.” Mina stood before Basheba, her eyes narrowed, and her hands balled. “This is your fault.” “And this,” she lifted the ax, “is how I’m going to fix it.” “When did you see it?” At Cadwyn’s question, they all turned to see him studying a war hammer. Ozzie knew he wasn’t anywhere near as disinterested in the conversation as he was making himself appear. It was his way of ensuring that Basheba didn’t feel cornered into answering and shut down. Still, Ozzie was pretty surprised that it worked. “At Claudia’s bed and breakfast, when the demon took me.” She paused as Cadwyn flinched. “I didn’t end up in the river at first. It was me but, like, little me. The demon made me relive something I had been too young to . I was in a swamp, hiding…”

“From the werewolf?” Mina pressed. Basheba continued despite her clear annoyance. “No. It hadn’t shown up yet. These were just a bunch of your average, murderous children trying to off a toddler. I don’t recall everything they did to me. It’s all a jumbled mess of blood and pain. I think they were throwing rocks at me at one point. It doesn’t matter.” Cadwyn silently stepped closer to her, and she pulled the ax tighter against her chest. “They tried to drown me. I got away and hid in the razor grass alongside the swamp, and then that thing showed up.” She forced a smile. “It was the first time I ever saw a monster. And that kind of carnage. I’d seen death before, sure, but it was all ritual stuff. This was for fun. It had fun ripping them apart. It probably would have done the same thing to me if the kraken hadn’t called it back.” “The kraken?” Mina asked. Basheba shrugged. “There was this tapping, and the monster just slipped back under the water.” “The kraken saved you?” “Or it was just letting its dog out for some exercise, and I happened to be there.” For a long moment, no one knew what to say. “I guess the mystery of your child-phobia is solved,” Ozzie said to break the silence. Cadwyn closed the last of the distance between them and, moving slowly so as not to startle her, lifted his hand to cup her cheek. Her eyebrows jumped up her forehead, and she forced an awkward smile. “What ya doing there, big boy?” Instead of replying, he leaned closer and placed a kiss on her forehead. She giggled at the touch. “Seriously, you’re starting to creep me out.”

Despite what she said, her fingertips pinched the front of his shirt. He stayed close enough that the wasn’t lost. “You guys can wait here. I’ll get it done, and you can add it to the growing list of why I’m evil.” “We’re in the Leviathan, your home turf. I’m sure you can think of another alternative.” “Did you not see my grandmother’s room collapse in on itself? I lost everything of hers and I have no idea what’s left standing. Even if I can pull something off —which, let’s it it, I probably could because I’m awesome—what happens when the next quake hits? We can’t leave. And I don’t want to be trapped with that thing prowling around my house.” “Would you feel more comfortable with a narcotic option?” Cadwyn asked before Mina could interject. “I have a few things that could knock him out for a while.” “If human drugs still work on him.” Pausing, Basheba scrunched her mouth up. “Well, I guess that we could try Kin Amber’s animal tranquilizers.” “You have tranquilizers and you went to murder first?” Mina shrieked. “When in doubt, stab it.” Basheba secured the strap of the crossbow across her chest and started to search for armor for Buck. “You guys the way up to the octopus, right? It’s not much of a swing to get into one of the opera boxes. From there, you can get down to the main stage.” She gestured to the wall. “Take what you can, because you won’t be here again.” “The main stage?” Mina repeated. “I’m sure the constant earthquakes would have scared the civilians off by now,” Basheba retorted. Even injured as she was, she managed to get Buck strapped into an armored shell. “And what will you be doing?” “Gratuitous violence.” She looked up at him. “Come on, Cad. You’re a clever boy, you can follow simple instructions.”

“This has gone far enough. Talk to us.” “I am talking. You’re not listening.” Basheba’s stained dress swirled around her as Cadwyn yanked her to her feet. Her surprise quickly melted into indifference. “Let go.” Cadwyn tightened his grip. “You haven’t been yourself since the demon attack.” She scoffed and tried to walk away. Ozzie had anticipated Cadwyn to pull her back to him, but the ferocity of the action caught him off-guard. He clamped down on his need to intervene as Cadwyn continued. “I know you want to tell me.” “‘Cause you know me so well?” Basheba challenged. “Better than I know myself.” “Pretty sure the cannibalism blindsided ya.” “I might not know everything you do, but I know who you are. You can’t hide from me, and I’m sick of you trying to, so start using your words.” Basheba wrenched her arm from his grip. “What is there to say? No, you tell me. What is your plan for this situation? Because, if you haven’t noticed, the kraken is taking the Leviathan back. We are two good tremors away from being buried under tons of broken stone.” “You keep saying that, but don’t know for sure,” Mina blurted in frustration. “This is all guesswork and speculation.” Basheba’s eyes flared. “Well, I guess that my ancestral home is about to fall, taking almost every last tie that I have to my family with it.” A bitter smile crossed her face as she added, “Oh, and I speculate that everything that could have possibly helped fix Jerry was destroyed when my grandma’s room collapsed. Prove me wrong.”

Mina brushed the demand aside. “I’m coming with you to get my brother.” For an instant, Ozzie thought the blonde was going to attack, but instead, Basheba pointed out, “We’re underground. One bad shake and we’re going to be buried alive. How do you think you’re going to react to that level of stress? Because I’m thinking you’re gonna go up like a firecracker. Don’t get me wrong, fire’s my jam, but fire in an enclosed space with limited oxygen doesn’t seem great for longevity.” “If we work together—” Ozzie didn’t get the words out before Basheba cut him off. “Then what? Retreat isn’t an option when there’s a demon outside waiting for us. Face the bitter facts. One of us is gonna have to kill Jerry-wolf before he kills us. It’s time for violent people to do violent things, and I’m the only violent one amongst us, so I guess I’m it.” Hefting the ax, she looked at them each in turn. “Get to the surface. If I can’t kill him, I’ll make sure we’re closed off.” Mina’s jaw dropped. “You’re going down there to die.” “Way to show confidence in my abilities. Great pep talk.” Glancing over her shoulder at Cadwyn, she added, “Take care of Buck. If you get lost, just follow him.” Cadwyn grabbed her arm again. “This is insane.” “Yeah, everything up until this moment has been just the embodiment of sanity.” “You can’t just go off to get slaughtered.” She laughed, quick and bitter. “You still don’t get it. I was born to die. That’s what he wanted to remind me of with that little memory replay. I should have died as a three-year-old trembling on the banks of a rancid swamp. Everything else was just an extra.” Cadwyn tightened his grip, pulling her back when she tried to leave. Ozzie saw the mask of indifference slip from her face. Tears rimmed her eyes, glistening in the dim light. A slight tremor coursed through the reef, bringing down plaster dust and rattling the weapons against the wall. Basheba closed her eyes as they waited it out.

“We’re running out of time. Hurry up.” She refused to look at Cadwyn as he glared at her. “There’s got to be another way.” Caught off guard by her sudden shove, the taller man stumbled back a step. “I know the other way, Cadwyn. I’ve been living it for years. When this place goes down, you know what I’ll have left of my family? Ghosts and gravestones and a few tarnished rings that I’ve pried from their corpses.” She slammed her cast-covered arm into the wound on his chest, hard enough that he released her with a pained grunt. “I gathered up the pieces of my sister like she was a jigsaw puzzle. I’ve felt the rotting flesh of my loved ones ooze between my fingers. I’ve seen their charred corpses drift into the wind like dust; I’ve endured a thousand horrors just so I can give them the dignity of putting them in the ground. That’s the other way. Being the one left behind to clean up the mess. I’ve outlived everyone I’ve ever given a damn about until—” Her plaster cast ground against the wood as she tightened her grip on the ax and tried to regain her composure. With a sobering breath, her tears dried, and she lifted her chin high. “I’ve been the last one standing. I think it’s about time I give the other option a go.” “That’s what all this has been about?” Cadwyn whispered. Her convictions cracked around the edges, but she kept her voice strong. “Seeing the demon in person was very informative. I can’t prove it, but I know in my bones that Claudia has a part in what’s going on in Black River. And she has four of those things. If they attack together… I can’t protect you all from that.” “So, you just push us away? Try to turn us against you?” “That’s my gift.” She forced a chuckle. “Grief sucks. And now you guys don’t have to worry about it, not for me anyway. Give it a few months and memories

of me will whittle down to ‘that crazy cannibalistic bitch that killed Jerry.’” Stones cracked and fell from the walls to crash down around them. Basheba gave Buck one last pat and stalked toward the door. “You guys should hurry.” Ozzie yanked a sword from the wall, ing Mina a crossbow as Cadwyn retrieved the battle hammer he had been eyeing. “So, we’re getting the trank gun and heading after Jer together, right?” Ozzie asked. “Yep,” Cadwyn and Mina said in unison. Cadwyn cut off Basheba’s response. “This little family of ours might be messed up, but it’s a democracy. All those in favor of getting our boy, filling him with a dangerous amount of drugs, and then getting the hell out of here?” Basheba was the only one who didn’t raise her hand. “Cadwyn, look at them. They’re just kids. They deserve a chance to actually live. And you’re so much better than me. And Jeremiah… Well, he’s an idiot, but I’ve gotten a soft spot for him and…” “Basheba, what if there’s still a part of him in there? We could help him. We have to try.” She shook her head, stepping closer to Cadwyn and lowering her voice in an attempt to keep Ozzie and Mina from hearing her reply. “If he’s in there, all you’ll be doing is making him watch as that thing rips his loved ones apart. He’s not a killer. He won’t survive that.” Cadwyn was slow to reply, so Basheba pushed on. “Come on, Cad, you’re a nurse. You know better than any of us that keeping someone alive because it’ll make you feel better—it’s just torture.” She tilted her head to hold his shifting gaze. “When something’s that wounded, the most

merciful thing you can do is put it down.” “Are you talking about him or you?” Mina clapped her hands together, her voice cracking over the tense murmuring like thunder. “All those in favor of having this conversation while we go save my brother?” The same three hands shot up. A smile tipped one side of Cadwyn’s mouth as he twirled a finger, indicating for Basheba to turn around and lead the way.

Chapter 17

The lower floor was flooded, but it had yet to reach the ceiling where the lights buzzed and sputtered with every random quake. Cadwyn crouched low to look down the last of the slope and better study the area. “How did this place flood so fast?” “Well, I either have a leak, or it’s the kraken.” Basheba groaned and muttered, “It’s like talking to a brick wall.” Cadwyn ignored the comment. “You said these things are aquatic?” Basheba nodded absently. “The one I saw swam like a gator.” “Eventually, we’ll get some good luck.” Ozzie twisted around to look at each person in turn. “Right?” Mina shrugged. “Mathematically speaking, there’s a chance.” “The water’s not rising rapidly, so I think we’ve got a while before risking electrocution. Well, it’s slow right now. No telling what the next shake will do.” Basheba turned her head to speak to them while never taking her eyes off of the water. “Anyone rethinking their life choices right about now?” Cadwyn bit back an amused smile. Ozzie repositioned his grip on the tranquilizer gun. “Let’s get this over with.” Moving slowly to minimize any disruption to the water, Basheba slipped her feet into the water. Buck tried his best to mimic her but naturally ended up splashing quite a bit. The Ladies followed, their paws melting into the surface tension but not sinking any further. Basheba jerked a finger at the floating dogs and threw a wide-eyed look at Cadwyn. Her entire body screamed that this was impressive and she wanted someone to share in her awe. Cadwyn wasn’t as good at talking with his body

but, with the other two glaring at her as well, they got her moving down the slope again. Reaching the floor of the hallway brought a sharp reminder of just how tiny Basheba was. The water that lapped against his waist and the others’ chests all but covered her shoulders. She used both hands to hold the ax aloft, making a valiant effort to keep her cast out of the liquid. Cadwyn wondered how badly her shoulders were hurting and how long she could keep the weapon up. She had tolerated the thin plastic bag protecting her cast when keeping to simple tasks. It had allowed her fingers to work well enough. But now that she had the ax, she wanted to feel it and insisted on having a better grip. “Maybe I should go first.” Ozzie held his hands up in defense when she shot him a look. “I’ve got the tranquilizer gun, and he likes me more than you.” “Both fair points.” Buck circled them in a paddle as Basheba fell back to let Ozzie walk alongside her, one step ahead. Mina followed, clumsily carrying Ozzie’s sword to give him greater maneuverability with the trank gun. A tremor churned the water into a series of small waves that sloshed against the walls, eroding the chipped mortar to further loosen the stones. They remained frozen in place until the water settled once more. A thousand new leaks had opened up, breaking the tense silence with a constant trickling. The lights above them swayed wildly, crackling and buzzing and putting Cadwyn on edge. “You guys wanted a democracy,” Basheba commented. “What’s your vote here?” “Keep going.” Mina added quickly, “We’ll turn back after the next quake.” It wasn’t a perfect plan, and perhaps not the smartest, but Cadwyn didn’t protest. Thick droplets of sweat rolled down his back and collected along his hairline as they waded through the hallways. After a few twists in the path, they all stopped in their tracks. Utter destruction surrounded them. The walls and rooms beyond were nothing more than gaping holes. Clustered spears of human bone lay scattered within the slowly flowing liquid like sun-bleached whale bones. “They really like to rip things apart.” Basheba spoke in a murmur, more like she was talking to herself than the others.

Ozzie shifted the rifle to one hand to touch the nearest shard of monstrous snake rib. It was forged from dozens of human skeletons crudely molded into one solid shaft. He misjudged how securely the shaft of bones was propped against the wall. It scraped against the stones as it fell, the corridor amplifying the sound, and splashed into the water. “That’s a lot of upper body strength,” he whispered. “You rethinking your course of action?” Basheba asked. “No. Just the logistics.” His focus remained on the rib as he spoke. “I thought I’d be carrying him out of here. He looked pretty slender, you know? But if he’s got enough muscle to do this, he must weigh a ton.” “Maybe we can float him for a bit of the way,” Mina offered. “I mean, Basheba said it was aquatic. Don’t most aquatic animals float somehow?” No one replied. Basheba glided to the side to pull back on a metal door. After a few failed attempts to get it open, Cadwyn went to help. The metal gave way, and the small woman was almost swept along as the water rushed forward to fill the new space. Cadwyn looped an arm around her waist to brace her while she tipped a little more to the side to stare up the shaft. There was a rope there, and, with a few sharp tugs, she made the floor rattle a bit. “Getting it up out of the water is going to be one hell of a workout, but it looks like the dumbwaiter is still operational.” Basheba paused, her attention fixing on a random point back the way they came. “Do you see him?” Ozzie whispered. She hesitated a moment longer before shaking her head. “No.” “Maybe he’s not down here anymore,” Mina said. Basheba’s brow knitted. “Seriously, how do you guys survive? Don’t you get that little twist in your gut when you’re being watched?” Cadwyn scanned the gently rippling water. “Are you sure it’s not a ghost?” “They were terrified of the snake. I don’t think they’ll just chill while the thing

strong enough to destroy the snake is lurking about.” Shifting her weight, she added in a whisper, “Okay, I’ve got two plans. One, we knock him out and take him up to the main floor via the dumbwaiter. Two, we get his attention and let him chase us up, hoping that he isn’t faster than us.” “Those are horrible plans,” Mina noted. “Hey, at least I’m sharing my thought process. How about a little kudos for the emotional growth?” “We’re really proud of you.” Cadwyn pulled her upright and let his arm drop. “It’s a big step for me. And I didn’t even stab anyone.” She sulked. “I deserve a damn cookie.” “I’ll get you one later. But, for now—” The Ladies’ throaty growls severed the sentence. Everyone whirled. Sputtering lights glistened against the water and ruins that surrounded them. Ripples kept the water in constant motion. The Ladies closed ranks and stared into the lake around them, their white fangs glistening like pearls. “Basheba?” Mina whispered. “Get Cadwyn in the dumbwaiter.” Before Cadwyn could argue, she added, “Get it above the waterline, so we can get out of here fast.” Cadwyn used logic to fight back his instincts and forced himself into motion. Tension flooded Mina’s shoulders as she shuffled into the small space. Her breathing was labored, and her hands shook, but she held her panic back from the brink. The Ladies switched from growling to threatening barks, and Cadwyn lunged for the rope. “Keep an eye on them.” Mina nodded and, as Cadwyn forced the carriage up through the first grueling feet of water, she awkwardly lowered onto her knees to keep the hounds in sight. A spike to hook the rope around to keep the carriage in place protruded from one

of the bars. When there were only a few inches of water left coating the bottom, he secured the rope and crouched down to Mina. He reasoned that, with a bit of help, Basheba should be able to get inside quickly. Hopefully quickly enough. Nervous energy strummed through his veins as he was forced to sit there and watch the scene unfold. Basheba slipped her cast hand into the arch of the ax. Ozzie readjusted his grip on the rifle while the dogs raised their hackles. The lights sputtered, making long shadows dance around them. Nothing stirred until the water burst up and Jeremiah’s new form, a colossal mass of lean muscle and fangs, lurched from the depths. The Ladies attacked while he was still airborne, each one taking a limb. Blood spurted from around their jaws to stain Jeremiah’s matted fur. It was enough to knock Jeremiah’s attack off-course, allowing Basheba and Ozzie to splash out of the way. Slamming into the wall, Ozzie turned and took his shot. A second later, Jer disappeared under the water. The Ladies followed. Buck’s continued efforts to stay afloat kept the water in constant motion and made it nearly impossible to see anything below the surface. “Did you get him?” Basheba panted. “Maybe.” “That’s comforting.” The words had barely left her mouth before she was knocked from the perch she had found and disappeared under the water. Mina gripped Cadwyn’s arm, keeping him from lunging out to follow his wife. Ozzie was closer. He sloshed across the distance, searching the bloodstained water until he could pull her back to the surface. She hadn’t regained her footing before she was shoving him toward the dumbwaiter. “You didn’t get him!” Ozzie handed Basheba the rifle before throwing her over his shoulder, letting her protect his back as he powered through the flooded expanse with Buck swimming madly at his side. Mina reached out to help them. Ozzie shoved Basheba up first. She quickly got on one knee and kept watch, the length of the rifle allowing her to easily compensate for her cast. Buck followed before Ozzie

hoisted himself inside the carriage. Cadwyn was already working the rope, pulling them up higher, but the additional weight slowed the process. A clawed arm snaked through the shrinking gap. It dug into the flooring and brought them to a jerking haul. “Yep, ya didn’t get him!” Ozzie scrambled up to help Cadwyn, their combined efforts making the carriage lurch and forcing Basheba’s shot to go wide. Cursing rapidly, she struggled to aim again. Before she was able to organize herself, the Ladies dragged Jeremiah back and, without the beast holding them down, they shot up. Mina scrambled forward, helplessly clawing at the ing stone wall. “They’re going to kill him!” Her concern was short-lived when the whole carriage shook. Claws screamed against the metal underside, not quite able to break through, the short pauses between each strike filled with crunching rock. Cadwyn’s pulse raced. He’s climbing up the shaft after us. Ozzie must have come to the same conclusion because, with a shared glance, the guys worked the rope faster. The carriage trembled with the increased speed. For all their effort, they only gained a few extra moments between attacks. Sweat trickled over his skin, his hands began to blister, and every muscle in his arms and back screamed. Small gaps began to flash by to mark off the different floors. The growl of the Ladies came before Jeremiah’s feral snarl. Claws lashed at the underside of the metal floor before the sounds grew distant. It was a small blessing that the Ladies were succeeding in keeping him back. A few more floors ed before Basheba ordered them to stop. “This is the lobby.” She tossed Ozzie the rifle and snatched up the rope, looping it a few times around the hook to keep them in place. “Get out here. Hurry.” “Basheba—” Mina struggled with the sword and her small crossbow but still focused on Basheba as the small woman gave instructions. “Get Ozzie onto the stage. I’ll lure Jerry to the silver octopus and make sure he has a clear shot. Go!” Mina nodded and hurried out, shouldering her way through the door and into the

brightly lit lobby. “Buck, go to the stage.” Buck shuffled forward but stopped when he noticed Basheba wasn’t following. “Buck. Go.” Cadwyn called for the dog at the same moment. The dog remained torn for a moment before leaping out of the dumbwaiter and quickly taking the lead.

***

The first pull was the hardest. Between her injuries and minimal upper body strength, it was a constant struggle to keep the upward momentum. After a few failed attempts, she managed to get a stable routine, but the pace was far slower, and she could hear Jeremiah catching up. The gap she needed came into view. She didn’t bother to tie it off but collected her ax and leaped through the opening, letting the carriage plummet. There was a loud snarl as it slammed into Jeremiah. By the scream of metal, Basheba could only assume that he was finally able to tear through the underside of the dumbwaiter and rip it apart as he fell with it. She didn’t know how much time it had bought her, but she wasn’t about to waste it. Basheba broke into a sprint. Her body knew the route by heart, and she was soon barreling her way into the mirrored room. On occasion, she missed by a step, and her shoulder would smack against the polished glass. She took the pain of the impact and kept running. When she reached the edges of her memory, she groped blindly to work around the last wall. It took an extra second for her to find the switch. Lights flicked on, music whirled to life, and the mirrors began to spin. Vertigo struck her instantly and sent her stumbling to the side. Lacking the standard stature and strength of the average Allaway, Basheba’s family had focused on amplifying her agility and speed. She picked up her speed, sprinted for the wall and jumped. Muscle memory took over, and she planted her foot at hip height, using it to push herself higher. It got her high

enough to hook her cast over the edge of the opening. Despite the hum of her adrenaline, her muscles twitched, and her legs ached. She swung the ax into the gap, the curved blade slicing into the grouting between the stones and giving her the extra seconds that she needed to place her feet again. One more push and she was in the tunnel. Panting hard, she flopped onto her side and awkwardly pulled the ax free. Jeremiah’s enraged howl shot fresh adrenaline and terror through her veins in equal measure. Crunching stone and shattering glass followed her. His confusion was palpable, and his rage soon followed. Aftershocks coursed through the small space as Jeremiah took to destroying every twisting mirror. The lights flickered and threatened to die before he found his way to her. He lunged at the opening, the tremors almost forcing Basheba to fall out the other end. Glancing over her shoulder, Basheba’s heart staggered with relief. He’s too thick. The monster’s shoulders alone were far too broad to squeeze through the gap, and it was forced to battle its way through. She pushed herself the last bit of distance, not bothering to prepare herself for the short drop onto the landing. The impact rattled her bones and left her breathless. In that instant, all the pain she had ignored sliced through the haze of adrenaline, and she choked on her whimper. Then the world trembled, Jeremiah howled, and the crunch of stone under claws surrounded her. Hugging her broken arm to her stomach, she struggled back onto her feet. Blood had dripped from a dozen different cuts to smear between her feet and the soles of her sandals. It slicked her steps, leaving her unsteady. I miss my hiking boots. She turned and waited for the monster to come, her ax gripped in her scarred hand. Each thrash of Jeremiah’s limbs gouged away a few inches of stone. The balcony shook as he threw himself against the divider, burrowing his head through the gap, jaws snapping in a desperate attempt to sink into flesh. Basheba’s head throbbed as she watched those fangs grow larger. “Come on, Jerry.” The murmur was enough to send Jeremiah into a frenzy. It was now a matter of seconds that separated them. Basheba bounced on her toes, preparing herself for the pain to come. “It’s impolite to leave a lady waiting.” It reared back, coiling for an attack, and she spun. Rubble exploded out around her as she scrambled up the back of the silver octopus. This is gonna hurt. Jeremiah surged toward her as she leaped. The drop was short. With a twist of

her torso, she managed to hook her cast-covered arm around one of the metal octopus’ lower tentacles. She slid for a split-second, the momentum threatening to throw her loose, until the crook of her elbow met an upward curve in the metal. Her bodyweight bore down upon her shoulder, almost making it pop out of place as she dangled. Jeremiah’s claws scraped across the metal as he latched onto one of the upper tentacles and swiped at her. The momentum of her swing took her away from his reach. Sparks flared as his claws struck the steel body of the figure. Basheba threw her legs into the motion and, with an awkward lurch, managed to hook the curve of the ax head once more around her cast. It allowed her to stabilize her weight between both shoulders instead of leaving one arm to take the brunt of it. Her body still trembled with the strain, and pain crackled along every nerve ending. She couldn’t hold on for long. Drenched hair streaked across her face as she looked up. Jeremiah shifted back and forth, drool seeping from between his fangs and eyes blazing as he tried to find a way down to her. “Please be dumb.” Once more, her speech provoked him into action. The metal dented under his grip, and she could see the exact moment the idea occurred to him. One claw at a time popped through the polished steel and, cautiously, he began to crawl over the edge. “Ozzie!” Metallic scrapes and pops and a throaty growl were the only response she got. “Ozzie!” Jeremiah rose one long, lean arm. His claws caught the light like quicksilver while his fangs shone like moonbeams. A dank scent clung to his fur. Then he jolted and, even deformed as he was, she could read the confusion on his face. The arm that had been meant for her lowered to his thigh to pull a tranquilizer dart free. He let it fall uselessly from his fingertips. Basheba readjusted her burned fingers on the thick handle of the ax handle, her mind screaming one question—What’s the shelf-life for tranquilizers?

Jeremiah reached for her again. This time, the shot came close enough for her to hear it zip past. It embedded itself in Jeremiah’s wrist before another took his shoulder and a third hit his thick neck. Sweat and blood coated her hand, working with gravity to drag her fingers down the length of the ax handle. Kicking out her body in an attempt to reclaim her grip brought Basheba back into his reach. He swiped, but the motion was slower and left him weaving. Metal squealed as his claws ripped it apart, and he fell. His impact against the floor made the walls vibrate. She felt it course through her and, with a pained cry, her grip finally failed. She jerked as her arm fell free. Far below, Jeremiah’s new body lay strewn across the opera house floor. He was too big for the aisle and his long limbs hooked over the surrounding chairs. Blood pooled around him, but there was still obvious movement in his barreled chest. Forcing her gaze up, she reached for her ax handle. Her fingers slipped over the smears of blood that coated the wood. Suddenly, something looped around her legs, drawing them tightly together before she could kick. Panicked, she reached once more for the ax, her desperation and the steadying effect of the grip around her legs finally allowing her to grab it. Unhooking the ax left her dangling from the crook of her cast. Her bodyweight bore down on her shoulder and set the t on fire. She bit back a pained cry as Cadwyn entered the corner of her vision. Ozzie stood behind him, stabilizing the taller man while he freed Basheba. She collapsed against him, knocking them off-balance to land in a painful heap. Laying there, panting for breath, it was hard to tell which one of them laughed first, but it spread quickly. “Where did you take the shot from?” she asked between heavy pants. Ozzie groaned from the bottom of the dogpile. “The stage.” They sprinted right across the theater. “Damn, you guys are fast.” It created another ripple of laughter. The kind that only came with utter exhaustion, when everything hurt too much to do anything else. “Mina?” Basheba asked.

“With Buck and the Ladies in the orchestra pit.” Exhaustion laced Cadwyn’s touch, but it didn’t stop him from carefully heaving her off of him. The opera boxes have surprisingly soft carpeting, she noted absently as he pushed her to the side and continued. “She’s got the rifle in case Jer moves while we’re up here.” Getting into a sitting position momentarily turned every muscle in her body to lava. “Thanks for coming to get me.” Ozzie flopped one hand against the carpeting. “We took a vote.” “See? Told you it was a horrible system.” Their smiles and breathless giggles died as another quake hit and the dome roof caved in.

Chapter 18

The colossal chandelier tore from its mountings to plummet to the ground. Driving rain surged through the opening in the ceiling, invading in torrents to rapidly pool against the floor. Cadwyn struggled to his feet on the constantly quivering ground and retrieved the battle hammer he had discarded in his race to get to Basheba. He barely felt the weight and watched in horror as the kraken used the impossible storm to rip the building apart. On the far side of the room, Mina crawled out of the orchestra pit, Buck and the Ladies following behind. Rain had already begun to fill the hole, gushing and bubbling up like something below was pushing the water up. Cadwyn flinched as Basheba latched onto his arm. “I don’t understand?” she whispered to herself. “Why is the kraken doing this? What did I do wrong?” Lightning flashed through the hole in the ceiling like a show of force, drenching the sky in a blinding, sterile glow and exposing the demon. It rode the raging torrents of the wind with lazy beats of its massive wings. It didn’t attack the building, but waited, hovering in place as the storm continued to break away the building. Cadwyn’s stomach plummeted. The kraken made its deal with the Allaways, he thought. It was possible that being asked to extend its protection to outsiders who had never spilled blood in its name had infuriated it. Did we cause this? “We need to get out of here,” Ozzie said. Basheba tensed her fingers around Cadwyn’s arm and kept silent. “The place is coming down,” Ozzie pressed. Stay or go. Cadwyn found it impossible to tell which one was the lesser evil. “Guys!” Ozzie grabbed Basheba’s shoulder, jerking her around and, because of her grip

on Cadwyn, shaking the taller man as well. “The tunnels.” At first, she struggled to speak, but strength soon flooded back into her voice. “There’s another set of tunnels that we can take.” “With Jeremiah?” “We just need to dump him through the trap door in the orchestra pit.” Before Ozzie could form a protest, she elaborated. “He’s heavy. There’s a cart down there that can take his weight. We can push him through the tunnel rather than try to carry him.” The ax she held clinked against the banister as she arched over to see the ground below. Mina had crossed the room, her distinct limp becoming more prominent with every step. The evident pain was enough to make Cadwyn wince in sympathy. Seeming still unable to enter, the demon watched her , a ravenous hunger pulsating from his core. A low growl from the Ladies brought Mina to a sudden stop, and she yanked the rifle up to aim at Jer’s prone body. “He’s waking up,” Ozzie whispered. Basheba took the lead as they sprinted out of the room and into the hallway. The walls had already started to crumble. Wallpaper flaked away, the brass light fixtures cracked and fell to the floor, and what remained of the roof began to buckle. Basheba knew a shorter route than the one they had taken to get up. Half of the stairs had crumbled, transforming into sinkholes that forced them to leap across the expanse. A large portion of the walls had fractured away by the time they were back on the ground floor. The storm took advantage of every gap. Water snaked down the walls in thick tendrils. Wind buffeted the exposed stones and threatened to rip the seats from their fixtures. And each roar of thunder threatened to bring whatever remained down upon their heads. Cadwyn divided his attention between the hovering demon and Jeremiah as they sloshed through the ankledeep water. Both creatures stirred, but neither seemed prepared to strike. The Ladies remained on guard beside Mina as they approached. Buck, however, rushed forward, bounding over the broken seats the moment he saw Basheba. Cadwyn slipped behind her, helping to keep her upright as the massive dog launched himself at her.

“Oh, I missed you, too.” She rubbed him as best she could as he jumped about. Jeremiah’s snout wrinkled, and his ears pricked, the small movements instantly capturing everyone’s attention. The rifle trembled slightly in Mina’s grasp, but she kept her focus even as the world ripped itself apart around them. Cadwyn glanced up to check that the demon hadn’t moved. It watched them from above, hovering. It’s waiting for the walls to come down. “We need to get him over to the orchestra pit!” Cadwyn yelled over the roar of the strengthening storm and crumbling building. Mina tightened her grip on the rifle, her hands shaking slightly as she trained it on her half-conscious brother. Cadwyn slipped around Basheba, intent on helping Ozzie move the huge bulk of Jeremiah’s new body. He slid his hand across her back as he went, careful to avoid the many small wounds that marred her skin. He hoped to offer some reassurance but only succeeded in making her tense. Jeremiah’s fur was unnaturally soft to the touch. But underneath, his skin was almost reptilian. It kept Cadwyn from getting a decent grip on the long, rather canine leg. Ozzie picked up the other leg, provoking a low warning growl. Jeremiah was too drugged to move, but the sound startled Ozzie enough that he lurched back and let the foot drop. He let out a sharp hiss, one hand shooting down to clamp against his thigh. Cadwyn’s medical kit thumped heavily against his hip as he reached for the younger boy. “I’m okay. It isn’t deep.” Cadwyn eyed the slice that severed his jeans just above his knee. With the deluge constantly washing over them, it was hard to gauge exactly how much he was bleeding. As they prepared to take Jer’s weight again, Cadwyn saw the Ladies in his peripheral vision. The hellhounds drifted around behind them, their throaty snarls terrifying him to the point that he almost forgot about the demon waiting for its moment to strike. Jeremiah was heavier than he had anticipated, and their attempts to drag him only worked to rouse him further from his narcotic stupor. “Guys! We need to move!”

Basheba’s shout made them all look up. Lightning struck the hole that had once been the ceiling, creating a fire that died off with barely more than a few sparks. By the light of it, they could see the demon was nearing in little bursts, creeping closer as if to test the boundaries. Jeremiah lifted his head, gaining about a few inches before he flopped back down. “Should I shoot him again?” Mina’s voice remained solid while panic danced within her eyes. “Or do you have something better?” Jeremiah attempted once more to lift himself, this time managing to flip onto his stomach. Cadwyn’s mind whirled as he struggled to sort out the math. “There’s no way to know the state of the drugs he already has in his system. Either they’ve weakened over time or his metabolism is off the charts. And his weight… I can’t calculate a dose that I’d have any confidence in. He might burn it off in minutes, or it might kill him.” “We have to make a choice!” Basheba shouted. Cadwyn blinked through the driving rain to find the sky above them empty. Before he could believe that the demon had left, he spotted it streaking past the holes that riddled the walls, randomly throwing itself at the gaps. While an invisible force kept it out, it weakened with every strike, allowing the demon to get a little further each time before it was repelled. Mina voiced the words he had been too afraid to think. “It’s going to get in before we can get Jer to the pit.” “What are our options?” Ozzie asked tensely. “Run.” The three turned to respond and found that Jeremiah had worked himself onto all fours. Standing this close, Cadwyn was struck again by Jeremiah’s size. If it wasn’t for Cadwyn’s extra height, the hunch of Jeremiah’s spine would have completely blocked Basheba from his view. Buck’s growls grew savage. The ground heaved, sloshing the bloody water around them into a froth as the storm raged above them.

“Run!” Cadwyn shoved Ozzie toward the seats and followed. He trembled with exhaustion, but adrenaline and the looming threat of death kept him going. Get them out. Keep them safe. The lingering drugs in Jeremiah’s system left his attack sluggish. His claws shredded the upturned furniture an instant after Cadwyn had thrown himself out of the way. The older man landed awkwardly on the undulating ground, rolling his ankle but keeping upright. Grinding his teeth, he forced himself to run. The stage crumbled in on itself and the last of the roof followed suit. The impact forced the gathered water into a small wave that followed them out into the lobby and down a flight of cracked, marble stairs. The main entrance loomed before them; the remains of the heavy doors left to hang upon twisted hinges. Rain invaded the lobby in thick sheets, hammering the ground in a deafening roar. He glanced behind and spotted Jeremiah bounding after them, his nails churning up water and stone in equal measure, and his eyes burning like twin fires. Still, he hesitated to leave what little protection the Leviathan had left to offer. Basheba didn’t hesitate to enter the storm, however. She’s making an attempt for the buildings, he realized. The chance that they could hide from both the demon and Jeremiah within the storm-ravaged structures was slim at best, but it was all they had. If we can make it to the van… He let the thought trail off, certain that if he was to follow such a hopeless notion, it wouldn’t lead anywhere good. Praying that the hurricane-like weather had forced people off of the streets, he pushed himself faster. Maybe Basheba knows of a few more traps set up. He stumbled down the few steps that separated the Leviathan’s entrance from the gravel parking lot. It sent a stabbing pain through the length of his leg and the thought crossed his mind that the damage in his ankle might be worse than he had anticipated. Adrenaline helped to dull the sensation though. Jeremiah panting at his back kept him moving. The Ladies didn’t so much turn as they did melt and reform themselves facing the other direction. As one, they charged at Cadwyn, not changing their course until Cadwyn was forced to drop to his knees to avoid a collision. The ebony beasts easily sailed over his head to catch Jeremiah in mid-air and slam him back into the earth. Nearby, Mina took the opportunity to hurriedly retrain the rifle on her brother.

Cadwyn dragged himself up onto his feet, pain shooting up through his leg, when he heard the scream. Across the parking lot, Ozzie dropped onto one knee to fire an arrow at the sky. He tracked it to find Basheba. The demon’s clawed foot dug into her shoulder with crushing force as a few beats of its wings took them higher. She almost put the blade into her neck as she blindly swung the ax. Luckily, she missed herself and drove the weapon deep enough into the demon’s thigh that it dropped her. Ozzie sprinted forward to break her fall, and they both went down like stones. The demon swooped again, and Buck jumped off of the tangled pair to better leap at it. His jaws shredded skin and crunched bone. Tightening his grip a little more, he dangled from the demon’s leg. The Rottweiler endured two sharp blows before he released his prey with a yelp. Basheba’s subsequent scream grabbed the attention of the Ladies. They abandoned Jeremiah, racing to address the greater threat. The demon spotted them in time to bat the first away. It sailed through the air like a black streak as its sisters continued the attack. The demon struck another with its tail to drive it into the earth while it caught the third around its slender neck. Holding it aloft, it squeezed, forcing a choked gasp from the hound. It didn’t anticipate the act of mitosis the Ladies were capable of though. In an instant, it was holding Cerberus, a three-headed hellhound, with each set of jaws relentlessly searching for its flesh. The flowing blood was an irresistible lure for Jeremiah, and he barreled in to the fray. The demon lobbed the hellhound into Jeremiah as it twisted away. Already, the monster had begun to heal and it swooped once more. The clustered chaos whipped Jeremiah into a frenzy, and he threw himself at whatever body happened to be closest. The Ladies were relentless but were progressively slower to bring themselves into a corporal state each time. We’re just buying time. The thought didn’t originate in Cadwyn’s head, but forced its way in and exploded across his mind, bringing with it a searing heat that drove him back down to his knees. A distant toll of a bell echoed within him as the fever suddenly worsened. The world became disted; movement and sound separated by a few seconds of delay. Fire sparked over Mina’s body, hot enough that the rain couldn’t extinguish the flames. Blood poured from Basheba’s shoulder wounds a little more each time she swung the ax. Ozzie fought to reload and avoid Jeremiah’s pursuit. A second toll vibrated within his chest. The fever swelled until his blood

felt like acid eating through his veins. He didn’t notice he had fallen until he was lying in the chilled rain, the gravel under his shoulder seeming to heat from his touch. We can’t win this. The droning of the bell rang within his ears, and his vision swam. What remained of the Leviathan stood in ruins. He lay there, spluttering against the water and felt the heat roast him alive. Get up. Help them. Move! His body struggled to obey the desperate rantings of his mind. Every inch was agony, but he managed to pry himself off of the ground and regain his footing. Rain poured over his face as he lifted his head and saw it. A slender figure shrouded in a brilliant yellow robe stood where the stairs met the ruins of the Leviathan. The hem of the fabric split into a dozen tentacles that writhed aimlessly over the broken timber, and its face remained hidden by the unnatural darkness that pooled under the hood. He had seen it once before. Back then, instinct had whispered to him what his melting brain could now scream. The kraken. Functioning on the last shreds of his energy, he staggered toward the hooded figure. He hadn’t made it far out of the building, but the distance felt like a track through Hell. Every cell of his body sizzled. He could feel the kraken inside his skull, keeping him back from the brink of unconsciousness, but leaving him with the sensation of being tossed about on the open ocean; a speck alone against something far grander than he was. It will kill them. The thought cut his soul, but he clung to it all the same. It kept him moving as he stumbled back up the crumbling steps of the Leviathan till he stood before the figure, clinging to consciousness, staring into the abyss where the kraken’s face should have been. Then the world slowed. The bells became one long sigh. A bolt of lightning slowly forked across the sky, offering its light in small, increasing increments. The rain flowed at such a slow pace that they looked like suspended crystals. It was a moment of clarity that had a thousand pieces falling into place. “You get it now, don’t you?” Cadwyn whispered. The silent figure tilted its head. “‘Few are my equal, none are my superiors.’” Cadwyn lifted his chin, needing to suck in a deep breath to keep going. “It’s an Allaway motto she believes in. No matter what you do, the most you’ll get out of her is lip service. She’ll never

give you what you really want.” Tentacles slithered over the cracked foundations as the kraken turned to leave. Cadwyn reached out to stop it, almost toppling to his knees in the process. “But I can!” Only its tentacles moved, grasping and sliding to turn itself back to face him. Cadwyn’s heart beat so loudly that he could barely hear himself. “I can love you!” Somehow, he knew he had the creature’s attention and that left him brave enough to blurt out the rest. “Basheba asked me what she did wrong, and that’s it, isn’t it? She didn’t love you. You watched over her; you protected her as a child; you gave her the Leviathan. And she rejected you. So, you decided to show her what life would be like without you. You took everything back. And still, she won’t turn to you.” Cadwyn refused to look away as he spoke, willing the entity before him to realize that he understood and accepted it in a way Basheba never could. “You’ve seen how I love. Loyally. Ferociously. Without judgment or regret. Let me save them; let me have my vengeance, and I’ll be devoted to you. I’ll even help Basheba keep the old traditions alive. It’s the most you could ever get from her, and you know it.” He jerked back when the kraken spoke. It wasn’t harsh or terrifying as he had expected, but soft and gentle and eased his pain like a cooling balm. “You will give yourself fully to my will? Carry out my commands without question or hesitation?” Basheba’s past warnings echoed through his mind, and he picked his words carefully. “I’m capable of it. And I’ll agree to it once we know the .” “?” It almost seemed amused. “You love without condition, Cadwyn.”

“And I love them, too. I want to save them. Not hurt them.” “You don’t trust me?” He swallowed thickly and tilted up his chin. “Give me your word that any negative consequences will fall upon me, and me alone, and I’ll trust it.” It seemed to contemplate this, allowing its tentacles to mindlessly curl around Cadwyn’s legs possessively. “Do you have any other demands?” it asked at last. Cadwyn longed to step back, to flee, but he locked his knees against the sensation. “The safety of those I love and the destruction of the creature that killed my brother are my only demands.” He obediently lowered his head, looking through his eyelashes to keep the kraken’s ‘face’ in view. “The rest are simply respectful requests.” He could feel the kraken’s amusement like an ocean current against his skin; a slight push that could quickly carry him into the depths. “Oh, the plans I have for you.” The primal need to flee hit him like a punch to the gut. There wasn’t anywhere he could go. The tentacles had encased him like serpents, coiling around each limb, constricting until his bones threatened to crack. The black void of its face filled his vision even as the body itself never moved. A rapid thundering took his breath away. Out of the corners of his eyes, he saw the spirits that the Leviathan had once held. They were watching, slack and lifeless as hanging puppets. A crushing weight filled his chest, forcing him to gasp for every breath, and his blood suddenly felt sluggish and thick. “Don’t fight it. Close your eyes.” The kraken wrapped a tentacle around his neck, cradling his head while the darkness of its face crashed down upon him like a slow-motion wave. “Let the tide take you.”

***

Mina turned at a wet, gurgling noise and a scream stuck in her throat. What had remained of the Leviathan was now encased within writhing tentacles, like the kraken had risen from the depths to crush a helpless ship. Stones groaned under its tightening grasp. An instant later, the limbs vanished, unleashing a tidal wave that rushed toward them. Only the demon managed to escape it by swooping higher into the sky. The rest were captured within the torrent and sent hurdling across the parking lot. The tide snuffed out the flames that covered her body. It ended as quickly as it had begun. Mina scrambled up onto her hands and knees, coughing up the water she had inadvertently inhaled. She glanced around for the others. Basheba, Ozzie, and Jeremiah were easy enough to spot. But the pitch-black dogs, both living and dead, bled into the night. Before she could call out, the demon attacked again. Too exhausted to swing the ax properly, Basheba couldn’t offer a defense against the talons it once more dug into her shoulders. Jeremiah latched onto its back before it could retreat. The demon struggled against the additional weight, trying to shake the werewolf off as the hard beats of its wings took them higher. “Mina!” The stunned concern in Ozzie’s voice made her stomach plummet. She tore her eyes from the demon long enough to track his line of sight. The water that flooded the ground had begun to swirl, rising into a cone that shone in the bursts of lightning. Before either of them could react, the pillar shot up, chasing down the demon. It splintered into liquid tentacles as it neared, the limbs arching out before rapidly entwining to engulf the demon in a liquid prison. The watery sphere shattered as it hit the ground, coursing out to once more knock Mina and Ozzie off of their feet. Mina clawed at the gravel. It shredded her fingertips but worked to keep her from traveling too far. Her lungs were aching after the back-to-back attacks. She flipped her head up, wiping the water from her eyes, and desperately scanned the area. Basheba was some distance before her, bloody and broken and gasping for

every breath. To the side, Jeremiah’s now human body was caught in the throes of a seizure. Ozzie scrambled over to him and pulled the older boy into his arms, struggling to keep the back of Jeremiah’s head from smacking against the concrete. The girls caught each other’s gaze and, in unison, crawled over to ranks. Buck and the Ladies reached the group before they could. Basheba looped her broken cast over Buck’s flank and clutched the ax to her chest with the other. It would be little defense from the demon that was clawing its way toward them. Even with broken wings and a shattered jaw, it was still terrifying. On the brink of tears, Mina searched inside herself for that spark that would make her ignite. The demon reared back, preparing to strike. Watery tentacles encircled its arm and dragged it back. The moment it burst free of one, another was upon it, the churning water keeping it locked within the same few feet. The wind howled ferociously, almost drowning out the Ladies as they began to whimper. Cadwyn strode toward the demon. Cadwyn’s body, a primal instinct whispered with dread. His unblinking eyes had taken on an impossibly brilliant color that matched the tears streaming down his cheeks. Without a glance in their direction, the thing possessing Cadwyn’s body lifted his hand toward the demon. His fist clenched and a blinding streak of lightning shot down from the sky. They cowered away from the heat and searing glare. The rain sizzled, the stench of roasting flesh choked her, and the demon’s scream threatened to destroy her eardrums. Finally, it faded. The storm continued, but the world was still. Blinking rapidly to clear her vision, Mina searched for the demon. It was as burned as the ground it knelt upon but still breathing. Cracks appeared in the charred remains of flesh, opening to reveal the bright red of healing skin. “What’s happening?” The joy at hearing her brother’s voice was lost when Cadwyn dropped to his knees. Whatever power that had coursed through him was retreating now, and he was crumbling without it. “It’s healing.” Ozzie gently but urgently pushed Jeremiah from his lap and got to his feet. Jeremiah cried out in pain, then whimpered through clenched teeth, “I’m okay. I’m okay.”

Basheba staggered past them. Her cast was in tatters, allowing her to grip the ax with both hands. With a vengeful scream, she swung with every ounce of force she could muster. The blade drove deep into the thick muscle of the demon’s neck, coming to an abrupt halt when it struck bone. Basheba grasped her shoulder and shrieked in agony as the demon gagged and spluttered. She sprawled out on the remains of the parking lot, chest heaving, too exhausted to do much more than whimper and pant. Life flooded back into Cadwyn at the sound. The demon rolled onto its back, but Cadwyn rushed forward all the same, bundling Basheba into his arms and dragging her back to the others. She fought against him, but he held on, soothing her with gentle words until the torrent within her shifted and she clung to him instead. Her voice was muffled by the storm and his shirt as she babbled, “It’s going to heal. It always heals.” Cadwyn pulled himself away from Basheba. Three quick strides took him to the monster’s side. He stomped upon its wing with one foot, keeping it in place as he wrenched the ax from its neck. Blood gushed out, the stream rapidly thinning both from the rain and its healing. Cadwyn didn’t move back. He held it in place as he called to the Ladies. All three hounds perked up at his call and instantly obeyed his command. They came to stand by his side in a perfect line, each one staring at him expectantly, waiting for the next order as if he was their master. “Eat.” The hellhounds struck as one, ripping it apart and devouring every inch. It seemed to take hours. The creature screamed the whole time, and Mina was sure someone would come to see what was happening. No one ever did. The storm and perhaps something more powerful preserved their privacy. Cadwyn watched the gruesome sight unfold before him. Somewhere along the line, the others ventured closer, with Basheba reclaiming her place under Cadwyn’s arm. Mina couldn’t say exactly when her disgust had subsided, but it was long before the show was over. What remained was relief, exhaustion, and a calming sense of justice. She didn’t realize how deeply she had sunk into her thoughts until Ozzie draped his jacket over her shoulders. It hit her a second later that she was naked, her clothes having burned away in the fire. The hem of his jacket just brushed against the top of her thigh, barely covering her lower half, but she felt far better having it than being without. At least this prosthetic leg

fared better than the first one. She turned to Jeremiah, who was sheepishly tying Ozzie’s shirt around his waist. He offered her a smile, but she knew it was forced. His eyes gave him away. They brimmed with terror, confusion, and utter helplessness. Like her, he had no idea how to process what they had just been through, what they had just accomplished. With the last scrap of bone devoured, the Ladies wandered off to stand beside Buck. They all watched the rain fall until the last bloody stain was washed into the gutters. Nothing was left of the demon that had tormented their families for two hundred years. The storm ran its course as they stood there in shock. Without it, the silence was consuming. We killed a demon. We did the impossible. The thought crossed her mind, clearing the haze in her brain a little more and bringing on a flood of questions she didn’t know how to ask. “Cadwyn?” Mina whispered. He seemed to know well enough what she was trying to say. “I made a deal with the kraken.” Basheba tensed but didn’t tear her eyes from the patch of earth before them. “How many lives do I owe it this time?” “None. I’m a living sacrifice.” He stared at the ground where the demon had fallen as he confessed, “I’m a sea witch.” “A sea witch?” Ozzie repeated. “I’m not exactly sure what it means either. The kraken told me it would explain everything at a later time when I’ve recovered.” “What a kind master you have.” Basheba didn’t have the energy to put any rage into her voice. “I don’t mean to be a bad host but, I don’t want to be here anymore. Can we go? I want to go.” Cadwyn gave her a gentle squeeze. “Yeah. Do you know the way back to the van?” She nodded absently and they set off, their feet shuffling over the earth,

lumbering like soldiers back from war. We survived, Mina thought, pulling the sides of Ozzie’s jacket tightly around her. She repeated it over and over, waiting for it to sound real. It never truly did.

Epilogue

The resort’s pool wasn’t anything spectacular, but the view of the mountains more than made up for it. After a quick run to the hospital to get Basheba a temporary replacement cast, they had spent an uncomfortable night all piled in the same hotel room. In the morning, Ozzie had called his parents. Since the kraken had allowed the storm to break, and there was no need for them to bring the asked-for weapons and supplies anymore, they arrived on an early flight, only to immediately declare that they were relocating for the rest of the group’s convalescence. Ozzie had been pulled from the last few months of school with the excuse that they’d be homeschooling him. Cadwyn put in for a leave of absence, citing medical issues, which wasn’t exactly a lie. And there weren’t any responsibilities Basheba and Jeremiah needed to consider. Of course, Mina had digital copies of her textbooks for ‘light reading’. She had been willing to elongate her ten-year plan by a few extra years, but she was far from giving up on it. Basheba suspected that she would be back to her online studies within a week. The Four Families were restless; caught up in the hysteria of divided loyalties and paranoia. Both Percival and Edith had suggested they get out of the country for a while. Somewhere no one would think to look for them. Oddly enough, that proved to be one of Ha-Yun’s hotels. In keeping with the tradition of prioritizing the male heads of the family, no one had asked Ha-Yun about her own businesses. They just assumed she had married into her wealth. It meant they could all slip across the border, disappear into the Canadian wilderness and stay at an isolated luxury resort. The couple had even supplied Basheba with a port and arranged customs for Buck. Whatever screening Canadian customs performed on animals coming into the country, they didn’t pick up on the Ladies that had been squatting inside Buck’s body during the process. She still hadn’t gotten over the shock that they had left the Leviathan. There isn’t a Leviathan anymore. She pushed the thought aside and settled deeper into the pool lounge chair. The resort’s pool room was kept to a balmy tropical temperature, and you could call room service right to your chair. With a rather impressive menu and knowing that at least one demon was dead for good, Basheba had reached a

whole new level of relaxation. She watched with sleepy eyes as a stag wandered out from the surrounding woods. It entered the pristine gardens without hesitation and proceeded to munch on the flowers planted alongside the building. One of the Ladies lifted its head to watch the animal, but soon lost interest, and returned to the napping tangle of dogs at the end of Basheba’s lounge chair. Not in the mood to socialize with the wider public, Basheba found that she enjoyed their presence, so long as they were in a docile mood. They weren’t disgusting enough to draw attention, but there was something viscerally disturbing about the hounds that people naturally steered clear. Mina, Ozzie, and Jeremiah had all been making liberal use of the resort’s spa. How none of them found it incredibly creepy to have a stranger rubbing them, Basheba didn’t know, but she kept that to herself. As was becoming their postmassage routine, the trio had moved poolside. Jeremiah had been unpredictable since his transformation. He was moody at times, ravenously hungry, and he suffered from bouts of agonizing pain. Basheba supposed that his body had a lot of newfound quirks to adjust to. Without warning or provocation, one of his ts would crack or dislodge and his skin would split. He never transformed completely and he healed quickly enough, but it always looked incredibly painful. And he often had seizures. They had found out by accident that submerging him in water prevented both of these things. After a full day of peace, it was Jeremiah himself who wanted to start testing things out. And, like that, the pool had become their daily hang out. With the weather being great, few other guests had been inclined to stay indoors, so they were left mostly to their own devices. Today was lung capacity day. Judging by how much of her beer was left, Basheba was pretty sure he had been sitting at the bottom of the pool for about an hour now. She quickly skirted her gaze to Cadwyn before polishing off the last of her drink. It was the downside of marrying a medical professional. A little bit of cannibalism and a few broken bones, and they start fixating on your health and well-being. Apparently, constantly living like you were going to be dead in a year wasn’t brilliant for longevity. It was still easy enough to sneak a few treats here and there, however, since Cadwyn could only stay conscious for a few hours at a time.

I guess the kraken wants him rested, she thought, putting her empty beer bottle aside. Or it’s trying to avoid that particular conversation. A small chuckle bubbled up from her. It was weird to think that she could have something in common with the kraken. They both wanted to care for Cadwyn. And they would both rather see him unconscious than have the deep and meaningful conversations he was angling for. He slept and ate and had the Ladies as his constant shadow, but didn’t know a single thing more about his condition than he had that night when they fought the demon. She was drawn from her thoughts when Mason dropped into the chair beside her, a casual ‘hey’ slipping from his lips. “Hey.” After a pause, she continued. “What ya doin’ here?” “I thought you guys would want an update.” “Oh, that’s a hard yes. But you know phones still exist.” Mason eyed the midnight-black hounds at her feet but didn’t comment on them. “The family leaders have officially decreed that everyone who refuses to return to Black River are traitors. Which they can’t get all that upset about, because they’re calling everyone who returns the same thing.” “I smell power vacuums,” Basheba mumbled. With the family leaders siding with Claudia, those who remained would be looking for someone else to follow. “Who’s leading things outside of Black River?” “Still to be decided. Although, I can tell you that all communications between Black River and the outside are being monitored. Both sides have started checking phone records.” “People are agreeing to that?” “Get folks scared enough and they’ll agree to anything to feel safe again.” He rolled his head to look at her. “Cadwyn told you I was born into a cult, right?” “Yep. He told you I had cannibalistic tendencies, right?” “Yep. Gross by the way.”

“Like your little cult family didn’t have some strange traditions.” Again, she paused to study his profile. “You don’t seem all that freaked out.” “I’ve seen weirder things in my life.” “How are the Witch Woods these days?” “Down a minotaur or two. So, I got to cross that off my bucket list.” Mason jerked his chin toward Mina and Ozzie. “What’s going on over there?” “Oh, Jeremiah’s a water-werewolf now.” Jeremiah broke through the surface as Basheba spoke. He clung to the rim of the pool, gulping down air as the others revealed how long he had been underwater. Fifty-eight minutes. The entire trio heard Mason’s reply. “You mean a rougarou?” “What did you just say?” Mina asked. “Rougarou,” Mason continued over Jeremiah’s question of what he was doing there. “It’s a swamp-werewolf-thingy. I heard about it in this bayou tour Edith and I took a year back.” “Mina?” Ozzie murmured. “Already Googling.” While she hurriedly jabbed her stylus against her phone’s keypad, Mason noticed Cadwyn. He was napping by the pool’s edge, his legs dangling in the water. Instead of calling out to him, Mason balled up a towel and hurled it straight into Cadwyn’s gut. “Don’t—” Basheba didn’t get the warning out before the towel had successfully startled Cadwyn awake. There was no avoiding the towering wave of water that was sent careening toward them. “Sorry,” Cadwyn said as Basheba wiped off her face. “Is your cast all right?

Mason?” Mason wrung his short beard out with one hand and waved with the other. “I’m sensing something’s a bit different with you.” “He’s a sea witch now,” Basheba chirped. “Huh.” He tipped his head to the side in a half-hearted shrug. “I thought only women were sea witches. Is there something you’ve been keeping secret from us?” “Don’t make me douse you with more water,” Cadwyn threatened. “All right,” Mason accepted with a nod. “Male sea witch.” “That’s it?” Cadwyn asked. Another tip of Mason’s head settled the conversation. Basheba grinned. “I’m really starting to like you.” “Aw. Aren’t you sweet? Don’t eat me. Now, come on, kiddos. Gather round and let Uncle Mason tell you all about how your families suck.” “Not mine,” Basheba noted. “My family’s dead.” Mason smirked. “Nah, you’re not getting out of this one, love. You’re a Winthrop. You’re in this, too.” It didn’t take long for them to close ranks and the questions began to fly. “According to Barnaby, Katrina’s elaborated on a few things to Claudia.” His face scrunched up. “It’s the stupidest game of Telephone I’ve ever been a part of.” “What did he say? I mean, what did she say?” Jeremiah stumbled. “ how they decreed that everyone needed to return to Black River and those that didn’t were to be cut off? Well, there’s now an end date. We’ve got just over three months until the gates close. All those who don’t relocate, and pledge their loyalty to Katrina, are going to get a demon of their very own.”

“That’s why Claudia’s tightening up the phone lines.” It worried her that the others looked confused. “We straight-up killed a demon. That’s a game-changer. If Percival and Edith spread that around, people might have second thoughts about getting under her heel. Sorry, Mason. Let me catch you up. Claudia is behind this and faking Katrina’s return to do… something. I haven’t figured out exactly what her endgame is yet, but I will. Or I’ll just kill her. Killing her seems like a better option.” “I’ve been in Black River. I know who Claudia is. I’m a little fuzzy on how you got to the conclusion that she would know you killed a demon.” “Because she sent it after us,” Basheba said. “She’ll get a little suspicious when it doesn’t return.” “All right,” Mason said slowly. “How about this one? The Families had already fought back before, right? Why would this battle change things so much?” “Are you kidding? Last time we were like a raiding party. We walked up, killed a couple of monsters and ran for our lives. Killing a demon? That means we have a chance to actually win, once and for all. There’s a world of difference between raiding a place and conquering it.” “Well, you have three months to convince them of that.” “Three months?” Cadwyn asked. “It was ninety-eight days, actually. A little less now, what with my travel time and all.” Cadwyn lifted his hand. “Ninety-eight days? That’s specific.” “Yeah, I thought that, too. Barnaby’s story is that it gives everyone enough time to get their affairs in order and make the move. It doesn’t sit right with me though. This is looking pretty cultish, and cults are big into symbolism.” Mina’s fingers began to tug thoughtfully at her hair. “It’s possible that the benefactor chose it, not her.” “So.” Jeremiah glanced at everyone in turn. “What do we do now?”

“We make some introductions,” Basheba said. Again, they weren’t on the same page. “We can’t end this because Claudia’s benefactor won’t let us. Well, Cadwyn’s got a backer of his own now. I say we get them together and let them fight it out while we destroy Black River. And yes, I’m suggesting we destroy everything. The forest and all its monsters. The caves. The town itself. We reduce it all to a pit, fill it with water, put up a sign saying, ‘Kraken Creek’ and go get a victory pizza.” “Even if we could get the two benefactors to fight, how do you propose we pull off the rest of it?” Mina asked. “Things are different now. The Families have banded together to fight on our , and we were relatively successful. And that was a last-minute thing. Not to mention the fact that you can now light up like a Roman candle, Jeremiah can Hulk out, we have three hellhounds that ate a demon, and Cadwyn is a freakin’ sea witch.” She sat up straighter, letting her conviction show in every word she spoke. “We get those who don’t want to go back to being playthings, use Ozzie’s resources to train the hell out of them, gear them up, and go in with a plan.” Their hesitation almost tipped her into screaming. “They’ve tasted freedom now. They’ll fight to keep it if we give them the option.” Cadwyn smiled. “There’s a lot of empty woods up here. It would be pretty good training grounds.” “And you’ll be far enough from Black River to stay under the radar,” Mason offered. “No way Barnaby’s little network is gonna get this far.” Once more, the group looked at each other, silently gauging where everyone stood.

* * *

Enjoy the following preview of

Black River (The Bell Witch Series Book 6)

Black River Preview Chapter 1

Lightning lashed the turbulent sky, staining the driving rain silver and filling the empty streets with writhing shadows. The windshield wipers struggled against the deluge, and the rippling water only made the illusions worse. Mina eyed the phantoms as the lightning faded, and they once more disappeared into the night. The rural tourist town’s nightlife consisted of a few bars, a pizza place that stayed open to serve the drunken horde, and a late-night coffee shop. They were closed now, their darkened windows shielded by the rising mist. Mina drew in a slow, deep breath to try and settle her nerves but didn’t try to convince herself that she was merely being paranoid. That wasn’t a luxury she had anymore. In her life, it was very rarely “just” a shadow. Gusting winds rolled off of the surrounding snow-capped mountains, howling like a living beast and battering the side of the minibus. The sporadic rocking kept Mina off-balance as she stood by the driver, bracing against the dashboard and trying to find a way to position her prosthetic leg. Mason’s quick reflexes and upper body strength kept her from falling more than once. Glancing over her shoulder, she eyed one of the many empty seats, debating if she should give her leg a rest. It would be safer. Dread wormed deep into her bones and squashed the thought. Blindly trusting her instincts hadn’t come naturally to her, but she had learned. If something was coming for them, she was going to be the first to see it, and she’d have Mason close by when it arrived. “We’re almost there.” Mason didn’t take his eyes off of the road. “How are you holding up?” “I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me.” The rain battering the metal roof almost drowned out his response. “Storms clearly freak you out.” Denial wasn’t an option anymore. They had spent far too many months traveling together, gathering up family willing to fight Claudia, and smuggling them to the resort. They knew each other too well by this point.

“It was raining like this the night the Leviathan fell.” She shrugged. “It conjures up bad memories.” Mason arched an eyebrow. “The night you managed to straight-up murder a demon is a ‘bad’ memory?” “I’m happy with the results,” she said, the gentle teasing making her grin. “But everything we had to endure to get to that point left a few scars.” Mason nodded. “Yeah, I can understand that.” Mina steadied herself as they turned the last corner and headed up the lone road that curled up the mountainside. “Basheba’s kraken needs water to travel, and I think it creates these storms to expand its reach,” Mina continued. “I don’t know. When it rains like this, I just feel… watched.” Now that it was voiced, the sensation she had been fighting back became overwhelming. Her skin prickled and what limited hair she had stood on end. The extensive scar tissue that covered the majority of her body prevented much hair from growing on her. It was a near miracle that she had managed to grow enough for her shoulder-length bob. Mason gave an understanding grunt. “Why are horrific monsters from unknown origins always so voyeuristic?” She giggled. Sometimes, she couldn’t understand how he and Cadwyn had built such a close bond. The two nurses were fundamentally different. Cadwyn was a warm and measured man, while Mason was essentially a hyperactive husky given human form. One thing they had in common, however, was that they were impressively unflappable. “Shouldn’t you be a little more disturbed by the idea that a kraken is watching your every move?” “I was born into a cult that trained children to murder people in order to prevent the Hellmouth from opening, so—” Mason ended the sentence with a lazy shrug. The silence that followed would have allowed monsters to creep out from the

shadows, and a distant crack of lightning put her further on edge. She grappled for another topic of conversation. “Edith said that Dad—” She cut herself off. He doesn’t deserve that title anymore. “Edith said that Barnaby has been hovering around the homestead.” It was hard to tell what Barnaby Crane truly believed. Either Claudia had convinced him that she spoke with the Bell Witch, or he knew that she had claimed the position of power for herself and the rest was a lie. Doesn’t matter either way, Mina reasoned. Whatever he believed, he had chosen to side with Claudia, and there was no coming back from that. “Edith can handle Barnaby,” Mason chuckled. “Although, she did mention that the packages she sends us will have to be smaller. She won’t be able to put everything we ask for in only one or two packages anymore. Better stick with the necessities from now on.” “You don’t worry at all?” “Edith’s told me some of the things she got up to during the second World War. I won’t go into detail, but no, I’m not worried that Barnaby of all people will figure out what she’s up to.” Repositioning his hands on the steering wheel, he carefully worked the minibus around a tight curve in the road. “I’m more worried about all the gold diggers. Right now, people are scrambling for resources, and she’s one of the few people who kept their money out of the family trusts. Physically, she’s an easy target.” Mina hated to think it could ever come to that. “We might end up killing each other for our freedom, but not for money.” “People have done a lot more for a lot less.” “But there’s always a limit,” Mina argued. Mason cocked his head to the side, making the tips of his dark hair sweep over the broad expanse of his muscular shoulders. “I distinctly you telling me that, for your first Harvest, your mother waved you off with a backpack full of poison and instructions to kill everyone.” “It wasn’t full of poison,” Mina stammered, caught off-guard, and not sure how

to continue. “It was just a baggie and—” She huffed. “Why do I tell you things?” “My point is, we’ve all got a wee little Basheba in us. Just waiting for permission to come out.” “Now there’s a terrifying thought.” Towering pines rose up on their left while the raw stone of the mountainside pushed in from the right. The natural barriers blotted out what little moonlight managed to penetrate the storm clouds, allowing the darkness to thicken around them and turn the windows into black mirrors. Mason turned the high beams on, slowed the minibus to a crawl, and tried his best to keep on the narrowing, flooded road. By now, he had the road to Ha-Yun’s resort memorized, but they needed to take extra care tonight. They had precious cargo. Mina glanced over her shoulder, needing to reassure herself that Abe Claymont was still there. The physical medium was in his twenties, although a rough life and personal choice had left him looking much older. Between seeing photographs of him and spending so much time around Mason—a living mountain of muscle—she had thought she wouldn’t find the man imposing. She had been wrong. It wasn’t simply his appearance, although his penetrating gaze and engorged canine teeth didn’t help. There was just something undefinable about him that made her insides cold. Jetlag had hit Abe hard. He had been snoring before they had even pulled out of the airport parking lot. Upon waking, he had started a Skype call, and Mina hadn’t had the courage to interrupt him. With the darkening windows acting as a mirror, she was able to finally get a glance at his phone screen. She wasn’t the only one to see it. “Is he laughing at an empty room?” Mason whispered. “Do you think he’s nuts?” Mina snapped her gaze away, worried she had been staring. “Of course not. The Claymonts are renowned in paranormal circles.” “There’s no one on the other end of that Skype call. Look, he’s talking to nothing.” His eyebrows crept up his forehead as he realized something else. “In Russian.” Mina watched the huge medium perform a sleight of hand trick with a coin,

pause, and then chuckle. “Go talk to him before you climb out of your skin,” Mason said. If she hadn’t been waiting for over a year to get an actual medium alone, she might have protested. Gripping the pole as best she could, she staggered a few feet to the seats positioned against the wall. It was the only place big enough to comfortably accommodate the colossal man. An ill-timed gust would have put her into his lap if he hadn’t blindly caught her. Like Mason, he only needed one hand to drag her down onto the bench seat beside him. Mina had no delusion about being short, but she had never felt this tiny in her life. His wiry copper beard was longer than his short-cropped hair, but it still didn’t hide his huge grin as he kept his eyes on the screen. A lot of Russian spilled from his mouth, with her name speckled in amongst the harsh syllables. Sparing her a glance from the corner of his eyes, he gave her a quick smile. “Sorry. They were curious.” “About me?” she asked before craning her neck to better see the screen. An antique loveseat was positioned several feet back from the camera and, beyond it, snow drifted lazily across iron-framed windows. His amusement seemed to thicken his Scottish accent. “They’re not strong enough to present as visual apparitions.” She twisted around to face him. “You’ve been Skyping with ghosts this whole time?” “Restless spirits,” he corrected. After racking her brain for what the difference was, she came up empty and had to ask. “Ghosts are shackled to a location, person, or item. Restless spirits are free to roam.” His attention was recaptured by the screen, and he continued his conversation with the spirits. It took her a second to realize that he was switching between Russian, Hindi, and something else she couldn’t pinpoint.

“How many languages do you know?” Abe held a finger up to the camera as if requesting a pause in the conversation before responding. “Several. All mediums do.” “I never knew that.” He looked a little annoyed at the interruption but answered anyway. “Some folks can’t move on until they feel they’ve been heard. Their whole life story from start to finish. So, we tend to get a vast education.” A heartbeat later, he turned to her fully. “If ya ever meet a medium that ain’t a polyglot, ya lookin’ at a fraud.” “You know, I’ve never considered that,” Mina said, thoughtful. “Do you have a wide range of people coming to you for help?” “Both living and dead.” Mindlessly, he flipped a gold coin over his scarred knuckles, making it disappear at random moments with a flick of his wrist and bringing it back with a flourish. It struck her that he was keeping his invisible audience entertained. “So, what if a high-ranking government official comes to you as a restless spirit?” “Then I’m learnin’ some launch codes again,” Abe dismissed. Her jaw dropped. “Nuclear launch codes? You know—” “I’m sure North Korea has changed them by now.” Unable to wrap her head around that and all of its possible ramifications, Mina was stunned into silence. A new voice snapped her back to reality. The man that came onto the screen was beautiful; lean and graceful, with big eyes and a halo of dark curls. “Lunch is almost ready,” the stranger said. “That means it’s time for all good dead children to go outside to play for a while.” Mina threw Abe a questioning look.

“Kids need routine and established boundaries,” he shrugged, as if that answered every question she could possibly have. “Hey, Mihail. This is Mina.” Mihail offered the standard polite greetings as he held the phone aloft and got comfortable on the couch. “You look atrocious.” Mina winced before she realized that he wasn’t referring to her melted skin. Abe groaned and scratched at his wiry copper beard. “I could barely get in the seat.” “I did offer to upgrade you,” Mihail noted with a small smile. Abe absently waved it off, somehow still maintaining perfect control of the flipping coin. “That wasn’t the worst of it. It was the couple in the back of the plane. They got together while the guy’s wife was in the hospital dyin’.” Abe paused to release a jaw-cracking yawn. “Said wife took offense to that and now follows them around, shriekin’ bloody murder in their faces. Of course, they can’t hear her, but it doesn’t stop the old girl from givin’ it her all.” He stilled the coin long enough to wipe a hand over his face. “Eleven and a half hours of that.” “You’d think she’d get bored.” Mihail’s smile broadened the more Abe glared at him. “ when you were shy and insecure?” the medium asked. “Being master of Castle Vaduva and all the dead residing within it has led to a lot of personal growth.” A proud smile tipped one corner of Abe’s face. Mihail’s eyes softened, and his tone became almost beseeching, “When will you be coming home?” “I haven’t even got there yet,” Abe chuckled. Mina cut in. “We’re about fifteen minutes away from the resort now.”

“Right.” Mihail looked at her long enough to be polite before studying his friend closely. “I’m going to be okay,” Abe promised. “You’re exhausted and have no protection. Forgive me if I don’t feel reassured.” Mina looked between the two men. “I’m sorry, what am I missing?” A deep, frustrated growl rumbled in Abe’s chest. “Mediums are more susceptible to possession. Generally, I have my parents with me to run interference. That wasn’t possible this time.” “It could have been if you had waited,” Mihail interrupted. Abe groaned. “How many times do we have to go over this? Between Dad’s leg and Mom’s bout of vertigo, it’ll take months for them to get in any condition to be of help. These guys can’t wait that long. How are my parents?” “You didn’t try very hard to think of any other solution.” “Mihail, these folks were talkin’ about krakens.” Mina’s stomach dropped. “The kraken is your greatest concern? I would have thought the Bell Witch or her benefactor would be—” Abe cut her off. “Ya do know krakens aren’t real, right?” Before Mina could find a response, something slammed into the side of the minibus, careening them across the road. Abe snapped his arm out, locking Mina against the seat as the second wheel slipped off the road and they sped backward down the slope. Tree branches snapped, the broken stumps screeching along the metal casing and scraping across the windows. With a final deafening crack and a hailstorm of glass, they jerked to a stop. The engine stuttered and died, thrusting them into a tense silence broken only by the rain thundering against the roof. Thunder boomed in the distance, but Mina still felt it rumble within her heaving chest. Mina allowed herself to freeze up for the time it took her to take three sharp breaths, then she forced herself to push Abe’s arm aside and stand up. It was a small mercy that the headlights had

survived the crash, although the sheeting rain and clustered trees greatly limited their visibility. The glow of Abe’s phone helped, but not by much. Mina could barely see more than a few feet in any direction. “Mason?” she called out. Unfurling himself from his seat, Mason retrieved their backpacks. Between Cadwyn and Basheba, Mina had learned how to travel light. “I’m good.” Mason kept both packs and reached out with his free hand to her, beckoning them toward the door. “Are you all right?” She glanced at Abe, who gave a disinterested nod as he studied the windows. “We’re fine. Did you see what hit us?” Mason shook his head. “It attacked from my blind spot. Come on, I don’t want to be around if it comes back.” “Mihail,” Abe said as he cautiously stood. “I’m going to have to call ya back.” Mina tried to take some reassurance in how unphased Mihail was as he swiftly ended the call. It’s like this is a normal occurrence for them. I suppose it is for us, too. The minibus suddenly rocked to the side, the violent jerk throwing Mina onto the bench seats lining the opposite wall. The squeal of the suspension cut through the rain hammering the metal roof. Abe reached over to help her up, but she was quicker than he gave her credit for, and swiftly moved to close ranks with Mason. Sandwiched between the two bodybuilders, she felt both protected and smothered. All at once, the feeling of being watched increased, becoming a crushing weight that left her breathless. Metal groaned. Abe swung his phone around, scanning the windows just in time to see slick flesh unfurl over the gaps like pitch-black curtains, muffling the sounds of the outside world. Mina’s ears rang with the sudden silence. “Any idea what to do now?” Glass shattered, metal screamed, and the walls started to press in around them. Mason blindly reached behind him, reassuring himself that he knew exactly where Mina was.

Mina took his hand, hearing him whisper, “We’re okay. Relax. Don’t light up.” She had been so focused on the walls closing in around them that she had forgotten the threat she posed to the men beside her. The witch fire that had ravaged her body still burned within her. Anxiety stoked the flames, and terror unleashed it. She eyed the walls with new horror. There’d be nowhere for the fire to go. She glanced between the men who had moved to protect her. If I lose control, they’ll burn alive. Without warning, the minibus was hurled into the air. Mina’s stomach lurched as the momentum pushed her hard into Abe’s chest. Before her body or mind could catch up to what was happening, light flooded back into the bus, blinding her an instant before they crashed upon the road. With a bone-rattling thud, the minibus slammed onto its side, sending them sprawling onto the seats that lined the wall. Rainwater, shards of glass, and sparks from metal grinding against asphalt spewed through the empty windows. Mina clung to the seat, desperately trying to keep her body from reaching that hole. The roof of the minibus smacked into the side of the mountain, finally bringing them to a stop. Mina released her grip and flopped wherever gravity decided to take her. Rain poured through the empty window above her, drenching her in seconds and invading her mouth with every panted breath. “Anyone alive?” Mason groaned. Mina rolled onto her side, the small motion letting her feel the multitude of bruises that would later form. “I’m okay.” “I’m a paramedic,” Abe offered. Fragments of glass rained down from him as he got to his feet. “Not to sound competitive, but I’m a ed nurse.” Once they were on their feet, he patted Mina on the back. “This one’s not even in med school yet.” Abe smirked in a friendly way. “Rookie.” Their conversation stalled as they used their minimal light to find a way out of the mangled vehicle. The front door was resting against the road and the crumpled metal wedged the crates in place, blocking access to the back window. They were forced to climb out of the windows that were now above them. Given

that both of her companions could easily lift her, they didn’t struggle to get her out. Mason kept a hand on her shoulder while she steadied herself on her prosthetic leg. He scanned the forest lining the far side of the road. Mist churned through the still pine trees. “Do you feel it?” he whispered. She didn’t have to ask what he meant. The sensation of being watched was as physical as the icy rain. “Yeah.” The medium dropped beside them, the strap of his duffle bag laying flush across his broad chest. “So, what’s your plan now that you’ve ticked it off?” Mason demanded. “We’re fine,” Abe dismissed. “How far to the resort?” “We’re fine?” Mina and Mason snapped in unison. The question was laced with terror, but Abe’s tone remained relaxed. “Yeah. We are.” “It’s going to kill us,” Mason said. Abe shook his head. “This was just a warning.” “A warning against you.” Mason’s fingers tensed against Mina, keeping her close as they headed down the road. “The kraken clearly doesn’t like its existence being questioned.” Abe smirked and effortlessly held the furious man’s glare. “Do you ever wonder why that is?”

Black River Preview Chapter 2

Basheba jerked upright, her hands clawing frantically at her chest as she gasped for air. The suffocating pressure gradually lifted, but the pain remained, reverberating through her bones with every throbbing heartbeat. A thunderclap rattled the windows and drove the ringing from her ears. The mountains that surrounded the valley cradled the storm, letting it swell until the raindrops pattered almost musically against the balcony doors. Basheba’s scarred hand absently balled in the drenched fabric of her sleep shirt, while the one newly freed from her cast sought out the collection of family rings that hung from her loose necklace. There was comfort in it, and she toyed with them while staring into the dancing flames of the gas fireplace. While the blaze kept the suite from falling completely into darkness between the cracks of lightning, the unstable glow allowed places for her nightmare to linger. Bones grinding against her teeth, the soft release of tendons snapping under her fingertips, and the taste of coppery blood flooding her mouth. She gripped her neck as she felt the mouthful slide down the length of her throat, barely chewed and leaving a burning ache. Cannibalism didn’t bother her. It was tradition, after all. But this was something different. It was brutal and primal, devoid of any hint of ritual. All that had existed within the dream was the desire to consume—the unrelenting need to possess in the most primitive way possible, and it had left her trembling. Habit compelled her to search for Buck. Her Rottweiler slept at the end of her bed; his massive body curled up to keep just beyond the reach of her short legs. Another crack of thunder jarred her from what little peace seeing him had brought her. She swallowed thickly, the phantom taste of blood lingering on her tongue. Her stomach roiled, and her scarred fingers trembled as she scraped them across her mouth. The copper tang wouldn’t disappear. She reached for Buck but paused before she woke him, guilt gnawing at the pit of her heaving stomach. It seemed cruel to wake him yet again just to comfort her through the aftershocks of a bad dream. Throwing herself to the side, she dropped heavily onto Cadwyn’s chest. He

snapped awake, coughing and sputtering, the array of sharp movements making water splash off of his skin. “Ew,” Basheba whined as she sat up. The stray flashes of light made Cadwyn’s damp skin shine. “What?” Fully dragged from her nightmare, she now realized that the entire bed was soaking wet. “Even the pillows are soggy.” “Did you hit me?” “No. And there’s no need for follow-up questions.” Basheba pulled his pillow out from under his head and held it up, cringing as water trickled from it. “Please tell me this is sweat. Or pee.” Shaking off the last tendrils of sleep, he rolled over to flick on a bedside lamp and huffed. “Why would you want either of those things?” “Because the other option is that my husband was just body-jacked by a mythical octopus.” “Please stop referring to the kraken like that,” Cadwyn mumbled, running his hands through his hair and slicking it back off his forehead. “Oh, am I hurting its feelings?” The damp sheets clung to her legs as she tried to work them free. “Ugh, it’s everywhere. Please tell me its pee.” Cadwyn flipped the sheets off of him and got up with far more grace than he should rightfully have. “I still don’t see how that’s the better option than the kraken talking to me.” “I don’t see how you don’t.” Finally freed, they stood on either side of the bed, staring each other down as the mystery fluid drizzled off their skin to pool over the floorboards. Cadwyn broke eye to peel his shirt off. “Fine. It’s urine.”

“Thank you!” Cadwyn tried his best to ignore her as he made his way to the bathroom, but he couldn’t quite fight off his smile. “Was that so hard?” she called. “Can we go back to why you hit me?” “No.” She opened the wardrobe, saw her empty side, and sighed. “I’m stealing one of your shirts.” “For the first time in your life, you have access to a washer and dryer whenever you want. How is it now that you can’t keep up with your laundry?” “My arm’s broken.” “You got your cast off a week ago. You can’t keep using that excuse.” “Who’s gonna stop me?” The damp material clung to her skin as she pulled it off over her head and tossed it blindly toward the door. It landed with a soft squish, and she plucked up one of Cadwyn’s t-shirts. Given their vast height difference, his tops made very comfortable sleeping attire. Cadwyn was still scrubbing the dampness out of his hair as he returned and offered her a towel. “Why have I never seen you wear this?” she asked, pulling out the hem for him to better read the slogan. Sexy enough to stop your heart; skilled enough to restart it was printed within the coil of a cartoon stethoscope. He chuckled. “I got that from the office Secret Santa last year.” “I know. It was the first and last time you’ve ever let me interact with your coworkers.” “You tried to weasel your way into a tour of the mental asylum,” Cadwyn reminded her.

“I wanted to meet Peter the People Eater.” Cadwyn rolled his eyes. “Maximum security mental asylums don’t have serial killer socials, Basheba.” She ignored the comment. “The question still stands. You lugged your hot nurse shirt all the way to Canada, and I never see you wear it.” “That’s because you stole it,” he dismissed, hooked his towel around his neck, and picked out a fresh pair of pajama pants. She narrowed her eyes. “Fine, I’ll give it back to you tomorrow and you can wear it for Ozzie’s training time. Oh, Mason would be so jealous.” Fastening the drawstring of his fresh pajama pants, Cadwyn radiated longsuffering amusement. Given the kraken’s insistence on communicating with Cadwyn through his dreams, they had long since established a routine that no longer needed discussion. Neatly stacked pillars of fresh bedding and pillows stood by the wardrobe, both nestled against the ample supply of towels that they used to wipe down the plastic mattress protector. That thing is such a time-saver, Basheba thought. While Cadwyn selected a few items, Basheba turned back to the bed and called for Buck. The Rottweiler instantly perked up and trotted over to collect the offered pats. The Ladies remained where they were, watching with crimson eyes that burned against the ebony of their fur, if that was what one could call the pelt of a hellhound. “Come on,” she called. “Off.” They remained where they were, unmoving, unblinking, and radiating barely shackled hostility. In life, the three dogs had belonged to her ancestor, but the kraken had claimed them in their death, using them to do its bidding around the Leviathan. Now that the opera house was gone, the kraken had decided to use them as party favors. Welcome to life as a sea witch, Cadwyn. Here’re some demonic beasts. We do casual Fridays. She pushed the snide thoughts aside and shoved some extra authority into her voice.

“Off.” Two listened to her and begrudgingly skulked off the end of the bed. The one that remained released a low, menacing growl. “Cad?” He released a sharp whistle as he dumped his selected bedding on the nearby loveseat. The holdout begrudgingly got up and ed its symbiotic siblings. They moved like churning smoke, silently crossing the room to curl up by the fire. “Damn straight,” she mumbled. Chuckling to himself, Cadwyn returned to his side of the bed, and they began the process of stripping it and separating the soggy mess into appropriate piles for the resort’s specialized washers and dryers. They had commandeered a few housekeeping carts to make the whole process easier. Water flicked up as she yanked one of her pillows from its case. It always amazed her that they could sleep through these drenchings. Neither of them had ever been awake to see how the kraken pulled it off. “Why can’t it ever clean up after itself?” “At least there’re no cottonmouths this time,” Cadwyn said. “Well, I’d prefer the snake. I don’t have to do laundry for three hours when it’s just a snake.” He shook his head and tossed a pillow onto the designated cart. “You are aware that they’re venomous, right?” “So?” Basheba kept working on the pillows, watching as Cadwyn closed his eyes to better contemplate if it was worth following this conversation or not. Two more pillows later, he casually asked, “So, nightmares again?” “Nope.”

He arched a brow at her while carrying the dripping pile of pillowcases to the cart. “Sorry, it’s a kneejerk reaction.” She drew in a deep breath, trying to stifle her natural instincts. “Yeah. Nightmares again.” “Do you want to talk about it?” “Nope.” “Okay.” When all of the pillows were sorted, they moved to the blankets, working one layer at a time until they were in manageable, dripping rectangles. Each claiming one end, they stacked them on another cart set a few feet from the end of the bed. “You know what gets me?” she spouted absently. “Why am I having nightmares now?” He glanced at her across the bed. “You did come face to face with a demon.” “So what? It’s dead now.” “That doesn’t take away the trauma,” Cadwyn replied gently. “I disagree. I’ve always found murder very therapeutic.” That earned her a chuckle as they dumped another blanket on the pile. “Whatever these dreams are, they’re not coming from me.” She spoke it as a ing remark, but Cadwyn instantly straightened. “You feel violated?” “Invaded,” Basheba corrected. “It’s like a rat gnawing its way into my skull.” He cast an anxious look to the runes painted across the window glass. “We should check that all the runes are intact. Nothing should be getting in.” “The kraken gets in. Maybe there’s a dream loophole or something.” Puffing out

her cheeks, she heaved a frustrated sigh. “Look, I’ve got no proof—” “I’m not asking for any.” He added before Basheba could continue, “But it’s not the kraken, Basheba.” She snorted. “Do you honestly think it went through all the trouble of entrapping you simply to give you nightmares?” Dumping the last of the old bedding, she shrugged. “Maybe it’s bored. And I’m not trapped. You’re the idiot that signed on with it, not me.” “Well, you’re married to the idiot,” he dismissed. “Ya got me there.” Distracted with shooting each other unamused looks, they each pulled up the plastic mattress protector too fast, making the last of the pooled water trickle onto the floor. A few drops found Basheba’s foot, and she jerked back. “It’s just saltwater,” Cadwyn said. “Yeah, it’s more the unknown origins that bother me.” “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I’ve asked it to refrain, but it needs the water to communicate.” They worked between them to get the plastic sheet free while containing most of the water, then shuffled to the bathroom. Once it was dumped into the tub, he ran his hands through his hair, and sheepishly smiled. “I can sleep on the couch.” She smacked his arm, wishing she had her plaster cast back to better bring home the point. “It’s the octopus that’s gross, and it’s murdering my hair. Do you know how much leave-in conditioner I’ve been using? That stuff isn’t cheap, and I know you’ve been stealing it.” Snatching up the mouthwash, she tried to chase the

phantom taste of blood off of her tongue. He played with the ends of her blonde hair as she grabbed some fresh towels from the tower. “It looks nice, though.” She smacked his hand away and shoved him back toward the far side of the bed. Buck had curled up with the Ladies by the fireplace, and they all slept as the humans soaked up the water that was splattered over the floor. “I don’t like this,” Cadwyn said abruptly. “Oh, is someone feeling protective?” she teased. “Don’t worry, Abe will be here tomorrow. I’m sure he’ll figure it out.” Once everything was relatively dry, they started getting the clean mattress protector in place. The storm had dispersed, leaving the plastic innards of the sheets to break the silence of the room. “I can’t believe I’ll finally get to meet Abe Claymont.” Basheba leaned forward and braced her hands on the mattress. “He can hit ghosts in the face!” “Yes, you’ve told me. Every day for a month.” “And he’s finally coming!” Tucking the corners of the sheet into place, she frowned. “Cadwyn, we have a professional demonologist and witch hunter on the way who’s willing to help us fight Claudia. This is the best chance we’ve ever had of breaking the curse of the Bell Witch.” “I’m aware. And I’m grateful.” “But not excited. Why aren’t you excited?” Cadwyn didn’t pause in smoothing out his side of the bedding. “The kraken hasn’t addressed it directly, but I can feel its apprehension.” “Its ‘apprehension’?” He met her gaze and lowered his voice to a whisper. “It doesn’t want Abe here.” “All the more reason to bring him in.”

“You’re putting me in a very difficult position, Basheba.” She tugged the blanket they were working with into place with a bit of aggression. “Hey, you promised to love, honor, and obey me.” “You took ‘obey’ out of the vows.” “It was implied.” Her next tug dragged the blanket off-center, and Cadwyn pulled it sharply back. “Basheba, it kept its end of the deal. It gave me vengeance.” Basheba sucked in a deep breath, and Cadwyn quickly reworded. “It helped. You can’t deny that, without the kraken’s help, we wouldn’t have survived. The demon would have killed all of us that night.” “Because the kraken brought the Leviathan down around on our heads! My ancestor built that place—” “To better serve the kraken,” Cadwyn cut in. “It had every right to take it back.” “It took everything from me!” “It took possession of things that were never meant to leave the Leviathan in the first place.” Tension seeped into his words. “And it spared our lives, Basheba. Does that count for nothing?” “I’d rather die than live as its slave.” “You aren’t.” “You are!” she countered. “I promised it my love and devotion, Basheba, not blind obedience.” Cadwyn rubbed his hands over his face and sucked in a deep breath. Basheba shuffled her feet. “What do you want from me, Cad?” “Your .” He met her gaze. “The family is already on edge about having the kraken around.”

“Because they’ve seen what happens in these kinds of situations,” she cut in. “You’re a witch, Cad. We’re literally trying to murder a witch because the last witch butchered us for generations.” Cadwyn’s face twisted with both horror and disgust. “That’s what you think of me?” “No, of course not, but that doesn’t mean that I trust the kraken.” He sighed, his eyes lowering in defeat. “I’m not going to let Abe hurt it.” “And I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.” She watched him for a second before growling out her frustration. “You like compromises, so how about this. As long as it doesn’t give me any reason to fear for your safety, I’ll follow your lead. That’s it. That’s the best I can do.” Cadwyn’s smile was radiant. “That’s more than enough. Thank you.” He looked far too pleased with himself as they got the pillows and duvet into position. “Has it agreed to help us with Claudia?” Basheba asked. It was satisfying to see his smile fall a bit. “It hasn’t said no.” “But it hasn’t said yes.” “Well, we are currently threatening it with a medium.” Cadwyn rolled onto the newly made bed and tucked one arm under his head. “I can understand its reluctance.” Not willing to it that he possibly had a point, she crawled under the covers and patted the end of the bed. Buck’s ears twitched, and he soon trotted over to regain his place. Once they were settled, Cadwyn turned off the lamp and scooted closer, hogging the pillow and draping an arm over her waist. Thin tendrils of guilt wrapped around her lungs as she watched his long fingers settle against the duvet. A confession sat heavily on her tongue until it was almost physically painful to keep it in.

“I dream about eating you.” She glanced up to see Cadwyn’s eyes flutter open. “I’m going to need context.” “Cannibalism, Cad.” “Ah.” Silence lingered. “That’s it?” she asked. “That’s your only response to your wife wanting to eat your flesh?” He turned his head to face her. “You want to eat me?” “No.” “Ah.” He closed his eyes again. Balling her fists, she forced out, “Yes. I mean, maybe. Sometimes. But in, like, an affectionate way.” He thought for a moment before asking, “What part do you want to eat?” “That’s your question? Shouldn’t you be freaking out a bit or something?” “You’re not my first cannibal. Peter the People Eater?” He stifled a yawn. “At least we can take some comfort in knowing that the kraken isn’t behind your dreams.” Her brow furrowed. “How the hell do you figure that?” “Whatever’s feeding you those dreams clearly doesn’t understand why you eat people. You’re not driven by psychological desire, or a need to assert dominance, or even an innate cuisine preference. For you, it’s nothing more than a tradition. The kraken’s known you for far too long to make that kind of mistake.” “If it’s not the kraken, what is it?” “I don’t know. I’m sure Abe can figure it out in the morning.” Buck released a

displeased grunt when Cadwyn gently nudged him with his foot. “You’re not going to deprive this good boy of his beauty sleep, are you?” “Seriously? You’re using Buck as a weapon?” “Whatever it takes,” Cadwyn yawned. They lay in silence for a while, his arm growing heavy as he inched closer into sleep. Staring blankly into the shadows of the room, she timidly placed her hand over his own. At the warmth, he sleepily rolled his wrist and nestled her fingers in his palm. “If I ever try to hurt you,” she whispered, “promise me you’ll save yourself.” “Basheba—” “Promise,” she stressed. His huff pushed humid air against the top of her head. “It won’t come to that.” “Then where’s the harm in saying it?” After waiting a heartbeat, she pushed her nails into his palm. “Cadwyn.” “Okay, fine. I promise I’ll save myself.” “Good.” Silence descended over them and, just as she was on the precipice of sleep, her body took over. She jerked upright again and stared at the hellhounds. The Ladies had released a low growl. Buck bared his fangs, and Basheba was struck with the absolute certainty that they weren’t alone. “Do you feel that?” she whispered to Cadwyn. But the moment the words left her mouth, the feeling of being watched disappeared. The tight twist of her gut unraveled, and the hounds settled down once more. Basheba was far more reluctant, though, and stayed awake, listening.

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