The Cult (Cult 1) - Page 37

I took the hit without an ounce of pain, felt the air punched from my lungs, but I felt like I didn’t miss a breath. My hands went to his antlers and dragged them down, slamming him to the floor so hard that it felt like the cabin would crack right down the middle.

Claire screamed as she ran to the corner, sobbing.

I dragged him across the floor and out the door, twisting and turning the cattle skull to snap his neck.

He was too strong, fighting me the whole way, throwing up his arm to grab my leg and yank it so I’d trip.

On the cold ground, unaware of the Malevolent that probably swarmed me from all sides, I dropped my knees to his chest, pushed the breath out of his lungs, and stabbed him right in the stomach.

Again.

And again.

He immediately gasped, his hands going limp by his sides, the air leaving his exposed intestines.

“Ahh!” I kept stabbing and stabbing, blood spraying everywhere, splashing my face with drops. Death wasn’t enough, not for what he’d just tried to do, not for the thought that crossed his mind.

When he was a gutted animal and blood had pooled on the ground underneath him, I stopped. I breathed. The adrenaline faded because the job was done. I’d murdered someone—and didn’t feel an ounce of remorse.

I expected to be apprehended, grabbed by the neck and dragged away, but nothing happened.

My breaths were pants, my entire body suddenly feeling the fatigue of the fight. I lifted my chin and looked around me.

I was surrounded by the Malevolent.

They did nothing.

Only stared.

I washed off and changed before I went back to Claire.

Because all the blood on my hands, my clothes, my face…would just make it worse.

She was in the corner where she’d scurried away, her arms around her knees, crying.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” I moved into the corner with her, and when I opened my arms to hold her, she rushed into my embrace. “Shh…” My hand cupped the back of her head, and I rocked her slowly, like she was a baby. “He’s gone.”

She sobbed into my chest, so upset all she could do was cry and convulse.

“I won’t let them hurt you, okay? I promise.” I held her and let her cry it out, let her cry until the tears stopped, let her find comfort in my embrace in her own time. It was wrong to tell her not to cry, to buck up and brush it off. I was a grown woman, and even I couldn’t process what just happened.

Minutes later, she calmed down enough to stop her tears and pull away. Her pretty little face was all puffy and blotchy with redness, and there was still a well of fear behind her eyes. “Where’s Mommy? Did…they get her?”

“She’s fine. She’ll be back soon.” She was a sweetheart, and knowing her mother was going through…whatever she was going through…would just break her heart. A mother shouldn’t have to go through this with her daughter in tow, and a little girl shouldn’t have to go through this…and worry about her mom.

“I want Daddy…”

My fingers moved through her hair, brushing through the strands in an attempt to make her feel better. “I know, honey. He’ll be here soon.” It was hard to lie to a child, knowing that he believed she was dead, was suffering that agony at home. He wasn’t coming. No one was coming. But she needed the lie right now—not the truth. “Claire, if someone tries to give you something again, don’t take it, okay? It’s not candy.”

“Then what is it?”

She would never understand. “Something really, really bad. Don’t ever take it, okay? If I’m not around and your mom isn’t here, just tuck it into your cheek and don’t swallow it. Whatever you do, don’t swallow it.”

“Why? What will happen…?”

“Just don’t, okay?” I whispered. “Promise me.”

She nodded. “I promise.”

I hugged her close to my side and ran my fingers over her hair, listening to her breaths as they became weaker, further apart, quiet. She eventually knocked out, slumped against me on the floor.

Even though she was out, I stroked her hair anyway.

I was determined to get out of this place, but now even more so.

I had to get this kid out of here.

Claire and I slept together on her bed, the two of us under the sheets, close together. With Beatrice gone, I didn’t want to leave Claire on her own, not just because I feared the Malevolent would return, but because she shouldn’t be alone…not after that.

I was asleep when her voice woke me up.

“Constance?”

My eyes opened at the sound of her sweet voice, and I blinked a couple times as I stared at her. My body was exhausted after the fight, after the adrenaline fatigued me, and it took concentration to focus on her face in the dark. “What is it, baby?”

Tags: Penelope Sky Cult Romance
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