“I don’t think he did. Or really does. Hurt people hurt people.” She comes in and sits next to me. “You didn’t do anything wrong. If I hadn’t been held spellbound, I would have tried to run away too.”
“I thought about it. A lot,” I confess. “I knew it couldn’t be an impulse decision. The Order would come after me. Xavier would have too.” Inhaling, I hold my breath for a few seconds and then let it out. “I didn’t know where I’d go, and Devon pretty much said wherever I went, he’d go too.”
“I shouldn’t say that’s romantic, but it is.” Her brows push together and angles her body toward mine. “I think, in the end, he thought you two would be together.”
I want to brush her off and say that’s crazy. There’s no way Devon looked at me as anything but someone to carry on the family line, fulfilling a duty before he could ascend into vampirism. I want to, so the guilt doesn’t crush me…but I can’t. Because she’s right.
“Things don’t go the way we think they will and that’s the beauty and pain of living, right? Even after you’re dead.” She puts her hand on mine and gives it a squeeze. “I’m really glad you didn’t run away. Call me a selfish-sally for saying that, but I am glad.”
“I’m glad too.” My eyes go to the metal blinds on the bedroom windows. Xavier has these set to close five minutes before sunrise and open exactly one minute after sundown, which gives me a few minutes to enjoy a tiny bit of fading natural light. Thinking about that for some reason makes an idea pop into my head.
The cops went to the campground during the day. They did a pretty thorough investigation, according to the report, but they were there in the morning and gone before the sun went down. It will be completely different in the dark.
She smiles. “Once Devon can get control of himself, he can be part of business stuff more. He’ll settle into a routine and have some purpose. He’s like a border collie that needs a job.”
“I might have one.”
“A job? Are you going to have him chase sheep?”
“No. Something much more fun. Demons.”
Chapter
Thirty-One
Iextend my hand, using magic to push open the tall, metal gate that leads to Camp Dogwood. Xavier watches, looking both proud and turned on from me using magic. A little pressure builds right behind my eyes from the concentration it takes to bend energy to my will. I’m going to have to put in hours of practice to really get telekinesis down.
The gate slowly creaks back, opening up so Xavier, Devon, and I can walk through.
“You know,” I say as we start down the long, gravel driveway leading to the camp. “All things considered, this place is nice.”
“It has that stereotypical summer-camp vibe,” Devon agrees. “And makes a good setting for a horror movie.”
“I should have sent you here,” Xavier says. “Would have been cheaper than the summers you spent at Lake Geneva.”
Man, it’s so weird to think about Xavier always looking the same while watching Devon grow up. That’s probably the real reason why Xavier never sees any new vampires he creates as equals. Despite them not having powers vampires only get with age, they are still children in his mind.
We could all benefit from so much therapy.
“Remember,” I tell them. “If you think you hear someone calling your name…you didn’t.”
“I don’t know if I believe in skinwalkers,” Devon replies and I come to a sudden halt, giving in an are you fucking serious look. He motions to Xavier. “He’s lived in this area for how long and hasn’t seen one.”
It’s a fair argument, I’ll agree, but it doesn’t mean shit. “They don’t typically wander into populated areas. So unless you have some sort of secret cabin hidden in the woods, the chances of Xavier coming across one are slim to none. Plus, I don’t think they’d go after vampires. You’re, uh, already dead and they kinda feast on the living.”
“Death has pens.” Devon shrugs and then we all fall quiet as we get closer to the campsite. The place is all lit up just like it was before everyone went missing. I read through the police report twice and then scoured the internet, looking for anything I could find.
There’s a Facebook group put together by the family members of the missing. Everything seemed fine; all the counselors and camp workers settled in, got a day of training beneath them, posted on the camp’s Instagram about how excited they all were, and then things were radio silent.
Most of the workers are college students who attended the camp themselves in their youth. They’ve been missing for three days, and if they’ve been possessed by demons, they are either dead or don’t have much time left.
Healthy, young people who have a strong faith—in anything—make it harder for demons to take over. Demons prey on the weak, though it only takes one moment of despair to agree to let one in.
The camp is eerily quiet, absent even the sound of crickets. When animals and insects don’t want to be somewhere, it’s a pretty good sign something evil is here.
“Can you hear anything?” I ask Xavier. We come to a stop right outside the first building, which consists of the kitchen, mess hall, nurse’s station, and a couple little offices.
“Nothing,” he says back. “There is no one alive in there. What do you sense?”
