“Yeah.” Garrett sobers. “He always did the right thing, leading this pack with honour and kindness. I can only hope to be half the Alpha he was.”
“I’ve not been in town long but, from how everyone talks about you, I’d say you’re more than living up to his legacy.”
“That…” He swallows. “That means a lot.”
We sit in companionable silence. I watch the rain-soaked world go by through the window, but I can feel Rett’s assessing eyes on me. He’s always been good at waiting me out until I’m ready to talk about something. Eventually, I give in.
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“I wouldn’t be a good friend to you if I did.”
Sighing, I follow the path of a raindrop down the windowpane. Seems fitting the weather matches my mood, the skies grey and morose.
“Seven months ago, I was attacked.”
“Who?” At Garrett’s low growl, I muster all the bravery I can to turn away from the crying skies and meet his eyes.
“A serial killer known as The Raven.”
“I’ve heard of him. You’re lucky to have survived.”
“I don’t feel lucky. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I’m still here, but… everything’s different now. Being afraid all the time is exhausting,” I admit. “Sometimes… sometimes I feel guilty. Why am I still here when everyone else…” I trail off, staring into my mug. “I reported on all his other victims. I know what happened to them, what should—could—have happened to me.”
“Survivors guilt.”
“Yeah. What he did…” I wet my lips. “I’ve never been so afraid. I woke up blindfolded on a table. I tried to get up—that’s when I realised there was rope around my wrists and ankles. Then these hands gripped the sides of my head… I never saw his face, but he, he really wanted to see mine.”
“What do you mean?” Rett asks softly.
“When he took my blindfold off there was a mirror right there. It was angled so he could see my face, but I couldn’t see past his chest. He was already standing over me, but that mirror it… it made sure he could see everything without me ever seeing him. I don’t know why that mattered if he was going to kill me anyway.” There’s so much about that night I don’t think I’ll ever understand. Why he took me. Why he let me live.
“He made me see things. It was like he ripped my worst nightmares right out of my head, then trapped me inside them. They didn’t find any drugs when they tested me at the hospital… after. Before I knew about all this, I assumed that was because whatever he gave me to make me hallucinate had already left my system, but…” No, I can’t say it. I shake my head at myself. Garrett will think I’m being ridiculous. But what if I’m not? If I don’t ask, I’ll always wonder. “What if The Raven is a supernatural? Is that even possible? Are there supes who could do something like this?”
“Jared, I thought you knew.” Garrett’s green eyes are full of compassion. I hate how much I need that right now.
“What do you mean?”
“The Raven is a fear demon.” My stomach drops through the floor. “He’s the SIB’s most wanted. What he’s doing isn’t only despicable, but targeting humans and using his powers to kill them puts the entire supernatural community at risk.”
My chest feels tight. Is it hot? I feel hot. I roll up the sleeves of my dark-brown henley with shaky hands. Sensing I need time to process, Garrett doesn’t say anything else. This changes everything. It also means The Raven could come to Crystal Lake. Wait, no. No, the wards stop anyone with bad intentions from getting into town. I’m still safe here. He can’t reach me here.
Once my breathing returns to normal, I lift my gaze to meet Garrett’s. “He’s really a demon?”
“Yes.” Rett nods solemnly. “The white hair and frozen scream of the victims are all signs of a fear demon. He quite literally scared them to death.”
“Oh.” My hand drifts up to my hair. “He was even closer to killing me than I realised.” At Garrett’s questioning look I explain, “There was a streak of white in my hair when they found me. It’s grown out now.”
His low, rumbling growl fills the room. It should be scary, but knowing someone so intimidating is on my side actually makes me feel better. Even if The Raven does come for me, I won’t be alone this time.
Rett hands me another steaming cup of coffee, and I accept it gratefully, letting the ceramic warm my hands. The house isn’t chilly, but talking about what happened to me has left me feeling cold, shaky, and exhausted.
My friend settles back onto the chair opposite mine. His mouth opens. Closes. He shifts uncomfortably.
“Good God, man, spit it out. Watching you dither is worse than anything you can ask me.”
“Have you considered talking to someone?”
Anything except that. “I’m fine.”
