PROLOGUE
Thirteen Years Ago
Kandace cried out as her foot caught on a thick root, pitching forward before catching herself, glancing back, and stumbling on. The moon above was round and bright, but it only shone in feathery pools, mostly blocked by the ancient, towering trees that swished and moaned in the gusting wind.
She could hear the men behind her, crashing through the forest in pursuit, their breathing labored, heavy, a word or two drifting to her here and there as they gave each other instructions.
Up ahead. There! Goddammit, don’t let her get away!
Kandace’s lungs burned, the agony of the gunshot wound in her upper back screaming in pain with every desperate twist and turn of her escape.
Please, please, don’t let them catch me.
She was dead if they did. She had no doubt of that. They hadn’t hesitated in shooting her in the back as she’d run from Lilith House. She might be dying anyway. There was so much blood. She felt it running down her back, pooling at the dip of her spine. She was weak, terrified, but she could still run. Obviously, nothing vital had been hit—she hoped. If she could just find a place to hide, wait them out . . .
She had been so sure she could get away undetected. She’d had a plan. How had they known?
Kandace broke right, ducking through the vegetation that grew thick between two trees. She ran, hopping over impediments in her path that the moon highlighted, swerving around trees, ducking under branches that seemed to reach out and grasp at her, slow her down, too afraid of those pursuing to waste fear on the fact that she was being swallowed up by the forest where a horned demon was said to roam.
Through a break in the trees she saw something swinging, there and gone in the blink of an eye. She slowed, glancing back once, terror seizing her throat, making it even more difficult to pull in air.
Yes, supposedly a demon lived here. Even Dreamboat had said this forest might be haunted. She hadn’t quite believed it. But she’d been different then. Now . . . now she could believe anything. Lilith House had assured that.
My utmost for His glory!
She fell to her knees beside a towering fir, going still as she attempted to catch her breath. Her heart beat loudly in her ears, blood whooshing, sending waves of throbbing pain to her wound. Her hand found the rough bark of the tree and she gripped its solidity, leaning against its trunk as she listened. Their voices were farther away now, but she could still hear them. They were coming closer. She had no time to waste.
But she needed to rest. So badly. She had to lie still for a moment. Her eyes darted around, searching for somewhere she might hole up like a wounded animal until the threat was over.
The leather bag she had strapped across her body rubbed against her wound and she adjusted it as she pulled herself to her feet.
A soft noise to her right made her startle and she whirled toward it, assuming a defensive crouch. A red fox stood in a thin clearing, staring, its amber eyes soft and knowing. She released a harsh exhale, straightening as she blinked at the animal. She thought of the injured creatures the kid had treated, hiding them in the shed behind Lilith House until they were well enough to be set free. At the thought of the kid’s tender heart, regret slammed into her chest like the bullet in her back had done. Little Dreamboat. I’m sorry I left you behind. I’m so sorry. She’d be back for him though. Her hand went to her round stomach. She had someone more helpless to protect now. The kid could handle himself. He was stronger than he knew.
The fox’s ears pricked as the sound of the men coming closer bounced off the trees. The voices were suddenly very close and she didn’t remember leaning back against the tree. Had she drifted off? The fox stared at her for another moment and then darted in the opposite direction from where she stood.
“There!” one of the men shouted. Feet crashed through the brush, following the movement of the fox.
Kandace didn’t hesitate. She ran the other way, weaving, stumbling, terrified that she was growing weaker by the moment. She clutched the leather bag to her body as she moved, tripping over something on the ground and going down with a painful jolt. For a moment she considered not getting up. She considered lying right there on the forest floor and just . . . giving up. It would be so easy. She rolled to her back, gazing up at the stars through a break in the branches.
Don’t give up on yourself. I haven’t. She heard her friend Scarlett’s passionate tone in her head, the words she’d said to her not so long ago and the memory bolstered her. Kandace pulled herself slowly to her feet. She had given up on herself. She’d made so many mistakes, had so many regrets. She hadn’t listened to Scarlett then, the only real friend she’d ever had, but she’d listen to her now. She wouldn’t give up, not when it mattered most.