The Cult (Cult 1)

I halted then took a long turn back to him.

He was closer to me now, because he’d stepped forward when I stepped away. In a long-sleeved shirt with his bulging muscles underneath, he didn’t look like a man who needed to beg for anything.

“That sounds like a threat.”

His eyes burned once he had my focus again. “It doesn’t have to be. Just give her back to me.”

I stared him down, reading between the lines like it was words on a billboard. “I have a better idea.” I pulled the knife from my pocket and moved forward. “How about I just put an end to this, so you never have to live without your precious fucking—”

Bartholomew grabbed me by the arm and yanked me away. “Listen—”

“He just threatened me—”

“Listen.” He dropped my arm and lowered his voice. “Let him have the woman. She means nothing to you. Just give her back. Problem solved.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Because she protected your daughter?” he asked incredulously. “That was before you knew this psychopath was obsessed with her. She’s not worth it. Throw her to the wolves. That’s life.”

Claire was my everything. Couldn’t risk her safety for anything.

“Give him what he wants. They go back to the forest. We go back to the street.”

My eyes stayed on his.

“I’ll do the dirty work for you.”

“Or we can kill him right now and be done with it.”

Bartholomew shook his head. “We’ve got enough enemies as it is. I’m not taking on a war with a cult.”

Claire was my priority. I could drug Constance when she was asleep. Bartholomew would pick her up and make the transfer. I’d make up some lie to Claire. Our lives would go back to normal.

But I couldn’t do it. “The answer’s no.”

Bartholomew just stared, his eyes hard, eyebrows furrowed. “If she didn’t protect Claire, another woman would have stepped in—”

“That’s not why.”

His gaze hardened.

“She’s family.” I stepped away. “And I’m loyal to my family.”

Bartholomew grabbed me again. “Don’t be stupid right now.”

I pushed him off.

“She’s not worth it—”

I shoved him away and faced Forneus again.

His eyes were hopeful and maniacal at the same time.

“No.”

The rage returned instantly, like a lit match.

“Find someone else.” I walked off, done with this conversation.

Forneus’s booming voice followed me. “She’s the angel. My angel. Give. Her. Back. To—”

“It’s over.” Bartholomew was back to his clichéd calmness.

I kept walking.

Bartholomew continued. “To come anywhere near them is an act of war against the Chasseurs.”

I halted when I heard what he said.

“We will burn your forest,” Bartholomew said. “And we’ll burn all of you with it.”

The screams began.

The maniacal screams of a demon.

Bartholomew came to my side.

I matched his pace.

The screams continued to pierce the night.

“Aaaggggggghhhhh!”

The men opened the back door to the SUV, and we hopped inside.

We were on the road a second later, speeding through the ghostly streets.

I could still hear the screams in my head.

Bartholomew was still and quiet, his eyes on the road. Puddles splashed. The engine revved as we picked up speed. Lights dimly punctured the fog. The quiet was false, because the screams were infinite.

I turned to him, watching the side of his face.

He met my look with a side glance.

I held his gaze for a while. He already knew how I felt by my stare alone, but I said the words anyway. “Thank you.”

He gave a nod then his eyes flicked forward once more.