Omens (Dark in You 6)

Turning back to the exit, she shrugged at Ciaran, who was still holding the door open. “He’ll wake up in a few hours,” she said.

“He’ll also have one fuck of a headache to go with those broken bones.”

“You gotta love electric fire.”

CHAPTER TEN

“Seems like no one’s home,” said Orrin, sweeping the open-plan log cabin with his gaze.

Khloé reached out with her mind, searching for others. The only ones she found were those of her lair members. “He was here very recently.” There was evidence of his presence all around them—the dirty skillet on the cooking stove, the remnants of recently burned wood in the stone fireplace, the pile of unlaundered clothes on the floor, the unwashed dishware that had been plonked in the sink.

She felt her nose wrinkle. “Not the tidiest guy in the world, is he?” She could never live like this. The sight of the mess actually made her shudder.

The cabin was pretty basic. In terms of furniture, there was a couch, small dining table, two wooden chairs, a bed, a night-stand, and a few outdated appliances in the kitchenette. It might have been cozy if it was in better shape.

A fine layer of dust coated most surfaces. Streaks of grime stained the windows. Flakes of mud and fragments of dead grass littered the floor and were wedged between the wooden planks. It surprised her that there were no patches of rot or evidence of leaks.

“Maybe he went for a walk,” suggested Ciaran, studying the empty gun rack near the front door. “What else is there for him to do around here? It’s not like he’d have to worry about being spotted by people who’d then report his whereabouts. This place is out in the middle of nowhere.”

Very true. Khloé peered out of a grimy window. There didn’t seem to be anything out there other than trees, thickets, and long grass.

“Can we be sure the cabin’s current guest is Enoch?” asked Richie. “David could have lied about his whereabouts.”

“It’s Enoch.” Kneeling near the nightstand, Orrin held out a framed picture. “Found this in the drawer.”

Jolene took the picture, and her face softened. “Molly. She was such a sweet kid.” The Prime tapped her nail on the silver frame. “I can’t envision him leaving this photo behind, so I don’t think he up and left. He’s around here somewhere, and he’ll be back sooner or later.”

“I say we lie in wait; surprise him,” proposed Ciaran.

“Maybe he never left,” mused Orrin, flexing his foot on a particularly creaky floorboard. He kicked aside the rug that covered it, revealing a cellar door.

Khloé exchanged a look with Ciaran.

Orrin dropped to his knees and put an ear to the hatch. “There’s movement coming from down there. I can hear scuffling sounds.”

“I doubt it’s Enoch,” said Jolene. “He’d do his best to stay still so that we wouldn’t hear him. Plus, he’d have had a hell of a time placing the rug over the hatch after closing it.”

“Not if he’s telekinetic,” Orrin pointed out, lifting his head to meet her gaze. “He isn’t known to have that ability, but we demons like to keep our secrets, don’t we?”

True enough. “I can’t feel any other minds here,” said Khloé. “Not even that of an animal, so it can’t be some form of wildlife scurrying around down there.”

“Something’s moving,” he said. “And my gut’s screaming at me to find out what it is.”

“Then do it, though I’m not sure what you expect to find.” Jolene cut her gaze to Richie, who stood near the front window. “Watch out for any signs of Enoch.”

Orrin unfastened the rusty bolt and then hauled open the heavy wooden door, making the hinges creak. Khloé peered down into the dark cellar. Dust motes danced in the shaft of sunlight that streamed through the open hatch and shined over a rickety ladder, a bare lightbulb, and the stack of boxes near the base of the steps. But it was what she could smell that snatched her attention.

Khloé backed away fast and put the back of her hand against her nose. “Something’s dead down there.” There was no mistaking the scents of death and decay.

Jolene’s mouth twisted in distaste. “It can’t be one of his puppets. We’d have felt their mind.”

“I’m guessing he killed and stashed someone down there,” said Orrin. “Only one way to find out.” He began a slow, careful walk down the creaky cellar steps.

Khloé looked at her father. “Any sign of Enoch, Pops?”

“None,” Richie replied without turning his gaze from the window.

Orrin paused halfway down the steps and tugged on the pull string near the bulb. The light didn’t flicker on. “Great. Anyone got a—”

A pale hand snapped out of the darkness and cuffed his ankle. It yanked hard, dragging him down the stairs. Orrin hit the floor hard and crashed into the boxes. Three rotting corpses stumbled out of the shadows and descended on him. His hoarse cries mingled with their grunts.