Jack reached across the table and grasped my wrist. “What does it say?”
I hesitated, then exhaled. “I’m supposed to meet someone named Malik. I think… he’s the one who saved me from Balthazar. Maybe even the same man who sent me here.”
Jack’s expression darkened. “And?”
I ran a hand through my hair. “He says Olivia is safe. That I’ll see her soon. But first, I have to find Tristan.”
Jack’s fingers curled into a fist. “That’s impossible. We’ve been searching for him for months. He disappeared without a trace.”
I bolted to my feet. “Then I’ll find him. One way or another.”
Jack grabbed his phone and pressed the screen. “And I need to reach Lee. If anyone knows how to track the impossible, it’s him.”
The device rang once. Twice. No answer.
Jack cursed under his breath and tried again.
I clenched my fists, unease slithering down my spine. Something was wrong.
Lee had been here when I first arrived, watching over me. Waiting.
So, where the hell was he now?
Chapter 3
Olivia
Emily and I were fugitives, hunted by the demon Balthazar. He had made his intent brutally clear—when he found us at John James’ house, he swore he’d destroy us the next time we met. For two relentless months, we had been running, always looking over our shoulders. My waking hours were spent in a state of paranoia; when I slept, nightmares picked at what remained of my sanity. But no matter the fear, I couldn’t abandon my quest—finding Eyan Malik before Balthazar found us first.
Days ago, the late-winter snow began falling, turning our journey into an exhausting battle against the elements. So far, the snowfall was shallow—only a few inches—but enough to slow our progress. Our horses still managed to forage, pawing through the frozen ground for shrubs and dried grasses, drinking from the streams and rivers we followed like lifelines.
Last night, we camped under a fragile shelter of stacked branches, rationing the last of our dwindling supplies. I fell asleep hungry, frustrated, and haunted by the same question that tormented me every waking moment?—
How much longer until we reached the Catskill Mountains?
At dawn, I stirred and pressed against Emily for warmth. My body craved more rest, but we couldn’t afford the luxury. Balthazar was out there, closing the distance, and we needed to stay ahead of him.
A thin layer of ice crystals had seeped through the branches, dusting my clothes. I shook them off and sat up, unintentionally jostling Emily.
“Can’t we sleep a little longer?” she mumbled. “What’s the point? We keep going in circles.”
I arched an eyebrow at her, irritation lurking beneath my exhaustion. She lay curled beneath the furs, her back to me—lately, her complaints had constantly tested my patience.
“No, Em,” I said. “We’re not going in circles. We’re heading north. To the Catskills.”
“Well, I haven’t seen them yet. Have you?” Emily flopped onto her back, flinging the hide from her head impatiently before shooting me a glare.
“Good morning, Emily,” I said, forcing a smile. “Did you sleep well?”
“I haven’t slept well in weeks. Not since we started this miserable journey.” She pulled the fur up to her neck and shivered. “Brrr. It’s freezing.”
“Just stay put. I’ll start the fire and make us some tea.”
She yanked the hide over her head again without so much as a “thank you,” a “yes, please,” or an “I can help.”
I gritted my teeth and crawled free of our shelter.
Our horses stood beneath a cluster of trees, their breath curling in the cold air. The sky remained gray, only a few stray flakes drifting down.
