Despite the terrifying circumstances of what he was suggesting, my lips tipped into a wry smirk. “Aw. So romantic.”
The cultist at my back jammed the barrel of the gun between my shoulder blades, making me stumble forward. Titus turned with his teeth bared, fearlessly looking down at the shotgun’s barrel. He said something in their ancient-sounding language that made the devils squirm uncomfortably.
Even when they were armed, full-blooded monsters were intimidated by my half-devil stepbrother. This little fact brought me comfort, even though I knew this wouldn’t be the case with the Jersey Devil.
At least there was the satisfaction of knowing these lesser devils were shitting themselves in Titus’s presence.
The figures were clothed in white robes that glowed orange in the dancing flames of their fire, and a flickering shadow stretched behind each cultist like a ghostly figure watching over them.
The bonfire’s flames lapped and licked at the night, embers flitting through coils of smoke.
“Beautiful,” I found myself whispering without meaning to, enamored by the bizarre and macabre allure of it all.
“Yes,” Titus agreed. I felt his eyes hot on me, though, instead of the fire.
My belly fluttered. There was so much love and adoration in that single syllable. Okay. So I was, in all likelihood, about to get my soul bitch-slapped out of my body by one of the most notorious cryptids in the country—a monster that wasn’t even supposed to be real—and all I could think about was how lucky I was to be loved by my step devil.
The circle of cultists parted, allowing us to be pushed inside, then fanned out behind us once more.
Titus stood tall with his hand still wrapped around mine and his wing folded around my shoulders to hold me close. He was trying to keep me safe, even if it was just an illusion. I closed my eyes and focused on his warmth.
Then, the chanting started.
The voices of the cultists wove together, perfectly in unison. My brain couldn’t make sense of the words, but my soul seemed to understand on some level. It was haunting, carrying all the soul of the forest.
Foreign words gave way to a single sound:drum, drum, drum.
It was like they were mimicking the sound of a church bell, marking the start of their service.
Drum.
My heart rate jumped.
Drum.
Titus’s hand squeezed mine tighter.
Drum.
“Come forth, come forth, Elder One, and accept our offering to thee,” Titus rasped beneath his breath, translating the chants of his brethren.
I noticed all the cultists’ cowls shift, their heads turning in one direction. I followed their attention, squinting past the fire to see a hulking silhouette approach.
For the first time since entering the circle, the icy claws of fear raked down my back. Despite the fire’s blaze, a deathly chill washed over me as the circle of cultists parted, allowing the monster to step into the fire’s glow.
The Jersey Devil looked nothing like Titus.
His body was covered from head to toe in fur. While it had the arms of a man, its legs were that of a goat. His horns were knobby with many points. They reminded me more of a tree branch than the horns belonging to a demon. Its wings were similar to a bat’s—leathery, brown and aged. Its head was fleshless, and its skull was similar to a horse’s. Its eyes were the most unsettling, though, because they were alight with white fire that seemed to fill its entire skull.
Even though the Jersey Devil didn’t have pupils, I got the sense that his attention was centered on Titus. For an awkward beat, they sized each other up through the bonfire’s swirling smoke.
When it spoke, goosebumps exploded over my arms. Its voice was straight-up demonic and as deep as Hell.
Whatever it was saying, it was speaking directly to Titus. Its hellfire gaze flicked to me, making my breath latch in my chest before returning its attention back to my stepbrother.
Titus responded in a level tone, almost sounding smug.
I was sure the Jersey Devil was asking if Titus had killed his father. He was, of course, confirming it. There was no use lying. Even if he thought he could wriggle out of it and deny the whole thing, he wouldn’t.
