The angel—Amelia—raised her finger to point toward the tree line.
And the decision was made for me.
I bolted.
The grass was slick, the mud even worse, but adrenaline gave me wings. My sneakers were already ruined; my socks had been soaked since I stepped inside the sanctuary. Now, water sloshed in my shoes with every stride as I tore through the lot, my breath fogging in the air.
I didn’t look back. I didn’t need to.
I could feel something behind me…not closeyet, but not far enough to make me feel safe. The woods loomed ahead, shadowy and wet, birdsong sounding somewhere ahead. I ducked beneath the first branch, my hand slapping against the pine bark as I pushed forward—but I got stuck in the mud, my foot suddenly sliding out of my shoe.
Damn it.
I kicked off my other heavy shoe, then I started sprinting barefoot through the rain. And as my feet hit the pine needle-covered trail, I felt it.
Not wind, not water, not the soft clay beneath the gravel. Just…presence.
Like I wasn’t alone. Like someone was watching my back.
The lightning seemed to flicker just where I needed it to see the way in the dying light, the trees opening to me. The rain lessened, the wind was at my back. It felt like the strange energy that had put me on the road to Willow Grove. It felt like Amelia. It felt like God. It felt like the magnetism of 222 Main, pulling me home.
Just ahead was a faint glow, a glimmer that looked like moonlight but definitelywasn’t. It moved ahead, fairy lights in the trees, a thousand fireflies in the branches and leaves. I ran, sprinted, got closer and closer…
…then I stumbled as I broke through the other side of the woods.
Right outside our house.
I squinted in the sudden glare of headlights as a truck turned into the driveway in front of me: Silas’s truck, I realized as it slammed to a stop, the door swinging open. Silas was out of the cab before the engine had rumbled to a stop, feet slapping on the wet gravel.
“June!” he shouted, his voice rough and panicked and so full of love it frightened me. “What the hell?—?”
I didn’t answer—just flung myself into his arms.
He caught me despite the fact that I was drenched, his strong arms coming around me, lifting me up. I wrapped both legs around him without intending to, teeth chattering from the cold or the adrenaline or both, and he just stood there in the rain and held me, smoothing my hair back and pressing anxious kisses to my temple.
“Jesus, baby,” he whispered. “What happened?”
“There was someone in the church,” I gasped. “I think—I think it was Abel. I saw Amelia, she helped me get out and I ran…”
Silas’s breath stuttered against my ear, not saying anything as he got to work—moving, getting me the hell out of the rain, away from the danger. He carried me like I weighed nothing, stomping up the steps and through the front door, then kicking it shut behind us with one booted foot. He set me down only to slide the deadbolt into place, then the chain—then he was scooping me up again despite my protests, carrying me down the hall.
“Runnin’ you a bath and you’re tellin’ me everything,” he said before setting me down to sit on the closed toilet, kneeling and brushing my hair back from my face. “Jesus, June…I can’t?—”
“I’m okay,” I tried to assure him—but my teeth were chattering, my voice strangled, and I felt like it only made the whole situation worse.
“You’re not okay,” he snapped, though I knew none of that tension was directed at me. “I’m…I’m gonna fucking kill him?—”
“Silas, I need to get warm first, then we can talk about our murder plans,” I interrupted. “Please.”
Silas let out a ragged breath, exhaling long and low like he was releasing some of the rage. But when he looked back at me, I could still see it in his eyes: the anger.
We would have to do something about Abel; we both knew that.
But it could wait until after I was dry.
CHAPTER 26
Silas
