Be quiet, I mouth, taking extra precautions in case they’re close.Stay.
Skylar, no longer drowsy, sits up on her knees.
Okay, she mouths back.Okay.
I wrap her in a blanket and signal for her to hold it tight around herself.
The blanket won’t save her if they barge in. I’m not stupid. I know protecting her ismyjob.
But it will give her comfort and warmth while I handle my father.
As for me, I don’t need warmth. I need to be cold and brutal. To be the predator that outsmarts the other predators.
Shirt. Jeans. I shrug them on fast.
“I’m here, Papa,” I say, climbing the stairs.
Gotta make sure no one’s sneaking in here. Ma could’ve given Jett her keys, for all I know. He never asked her before today, but now, with Papa sounding impatient, I don’t trust any of them to play by the rules.
“The sister doesn’t have much time left in her.”
“Okay, then kill her.”
Kitchen, living room, and bathroom are empty.
“We will.” There’s a smile in his voice. “Soon.”
“Bad dolly! Wake up! Wake. Up!” Reese screeches in the background, probably at Bronwyn.
“I told you, not a problem. I worked on the boyfriend yesterday. I can handle all three of them now.”
Skylar will curse me for this. For touching her sister’s skin after the others killed her.
She won’t have the closure she’s owed.
I’ll have to work twice as hard to make it up to her. Fine by me. Actually, fucking perfect.
“Oh, no.” Papa’s laugh is ominous. “You’re going to join us.”
Static.
No explanation. No demand.
He’s baiting me.
“What do you mean?” Once I’m done scanning the house, I go to the living room.
I won’t return to Skylar before he answers me. Whatever Papa’s devious plans may be for Bronwyn, Skylar won’t be hearing about it from him. She’ll hear it from me.
“Was I not clear? You’re coming too.” For the first time in years, bashing his head in doesn’t sound like such a bad idea. “You. And that shiny new toy you refuse to kill.”
My free hand curls into a fist. “I told Jett?—”
“Yeah, yeah. We’ve heard about your ritual. We respect that. But…”
Static.
Can’t take it anymore. The worry gnawing at me. The fear they might’ve snuck into the basement while I was up here.
