“We will have the sacrifice tomorrow evening—after your departure.”
Whoa, what now? “The sacrifice?”
“We must return an an-gel to heaven once you leave us.”
Shit, there was a catch. A big one.
“There is no other way.”
There were plenty of other ways…if you weren’t fucking nuts.
“We will bind her to the cross—and turn her body to ash so her spirit can return to the sky.”
I pictured Laura then Nadine on that cross. Beatrice, her skin on fire as she screamed in agony. And then I pictured something far worse…Claire. I wanted to flee this place just as much as everyone else, but not under these circumstances. I wouldn’t be able to get the police and beat Forneus before he returned to the cult…not in time.
My brief moment of joy was gone within the flick of a light switch. It was devastating, to watch my freedom be snatched away like that, in the blink of an eye. “I’ve changed my mind. I wish to stay…with you.” I could barely force myself to say the words out loud, even if it was a lie, because it was so disgusting.
That smile returned. “An an-gel needs her demon.”
Sure…whatever you say. “I ask for something else.”
His smile remained.
“Amon needs to protect his angel, not hurt her. He’s hurting her—and it needs to stop.” I suspected I knew what his answer was, but I had to try anyway, do whatever I could to spare her and Claire this horrific pain.
“You’re my an-gel. Not them.”
“But they’re my fellow angels. You should protect them too.”
“The relationship between demon and an-gel is intimate and private. He knows what’s best for her.”
Fuck.
Even if I ran away and got caught, Forneus probably wouldn’t do anything. But if they got caught…they would be mercilessly tortured. And if I got away, an angel would be sacrificed. The only way we were getting out of this place was if we all went together.
He watched me, his smile gone. “My an-gel is sad.”
“I just…wish they had a demon like you.”
“I knew you were my an-gel the moment I saw you, those beautiful wings under those lights, sent from heaven just for me.”
Creepy-ass shit, man. But I had to go along with it, because I believed that was the reason he’d taken a liking to me, because I fulfilled this ridiculous fantasy that wasn’t based in any form of reality. I gave him what he wanted—so he gave me what I wanted.
He suddenly rose to his feet and extended his hand to me.
I stared at it, unsure what to do.
He held the posture, patient.
I stared at the scar on his hand, the same one I had.
“Come with me, Ang-el. Let’s ascend together.”
No…not this again. I took his hand and got to my feet.
He tried to guide me back into the bedroom.
I stayed put, which forced him to turn to look at me. “I don’t want to ascend.” I didn’t want to put that pill in my mouth. I didn’t want to hallucinate. I didn’t want to run in the forest and see yellow eyes.
He stared at me for a long time, his hand loosening from mine.
I knew I’d said the wrong thing. I could feel it. He was different.
“We must ascend together. That’s why a demon needs an an-gel.”
If I didn’t do this, I had no purpose. I was worthless, replaceable. “Of course…I just meant in this room. Let’s return to the church.”
His hand cupped mine once again, accepting my explanation without another thought. He guided me back into the cabin, down the hallway, away from the firelight, and into a dark bedroom.
It wasn’t dark because the lights were out.
It was dark because the walls were painted black. There were statues along the walls, portraits of dark demons. There was no furniture, only a bed. When I turned my gaze back on him, that cruel smile was there.
More ominous than it’d ever been before.
In his hand were two pills—one for him and one for me.
He grabbed one and put it in his mouth, swallowing it dry.
I forced myself to take the other.
He lay in the king bed, on his back, his hands together on his lap.
I moved to the bed beside him, the two of us looking up at the ceiling.
His hand reached for mine, and he interlocked our fingers. “Together, we ascend.”
13
Benton
A father should never have to bury his daughter.
A parent should never outlive their child.
But that was my reality.
I’d never see her blond hair in the sink in her bathroom. I’d never walk down the hallway and watch her play with her dolls on her bedroom floor. There would never be crayons that fell off the edge of the table and rolled underneath.
Now it was me—alone—surrounded by the walls that held on to her echoes.
I’d have to sell it and move.
Couldn’t stay here.
I dropped off the remains at the funeral home so they could be placed into coffins and prepared for the funeral. For my final goodbye. I picked out a beautiful rose gold casket for Claire.