A flash of gold curls confirms my fears.
Two small girls scramble down the rope ladder, more falling than climbing, and their terror rides the night air. When they spot Elliot barreling toward them, they shriek and scatter in opposite directions.
I’m already moving, sprinting for Monty.
She pivots, instinct narrowing her focus to a single target, and lunges for one of the children. I collide with her mid-lunge and drive us both into the ground. The impact rips the breath from her in a sharp, broken grunt as dirt and grass explode beneath us.
The surprise throws the little girl off balance and her small body pitches forward. Trapped beneath my weight, Elliot claws for her.
I crush her with my power of compulsion.
“Stay the fuck down.”
Snarling, Elliot freezes in place.
I’m on my feet in seconds and standing over the child. Her mouth opens to scream again as she stares up at me, but I hush her.
“It’s okay, no one’s going to hurt you,” I say. I push more power into my words to mesmerize her. “What’s your name?”
“O-Olivia,” the kid says, sniffling.
“It’s going to be all right, Miss Olivia. Look at me and you won’t remember any of this. You and your little friend just had a nightmare from too many scary stories.”
“I want my mommy…”
Fuck. I bet her mother is the woman Vittoria had mentioned was inside the house.
I stare at the girl until her breathing calms, her heartbeat returning to normal.
“You don’t need your mother,” I say. “You’re brave. And it was just a nightmare.”
“A nightmare…” she repeats. Her eyes start to flutter closed.
“Sleep now. The rest of your dreams will be peaceful and serene.”
Nodding slightly, the girl lies back into the grass and drifts off.
The sound of approaching footsteps forces me to look up. Vittoria is stomping our way, the second girl tossed over her shoulder, also lost in deep sleep. On Vittoria’s face is pure irritation and anger.
“I never agreed to babysit,” she says, her gaze flicking to Elliot who’s still pinned belly-down in the dirt.
Elliot’s baby-blue eyes burn into me, her lip curled in a silent snarl.
“This could have ended far worse than it did,” I say. “There were kids?—”
Vittoria’s jaw tightens. “An oversight. One that won’t happen again.”
“It had better not.” I roll the tension from my shoulders. “How many dead?”
“Inside?” She hesitates. “Two.”
“Did the woman survive?”
“She’s been mesmerized.”
“Good.”
Vittoria’s eyes cut to Olivia, then back to me. The pieces slide into place. “Lucian.”
