Once she reached her car, she rolled down the windows to let the cold air in, hoping to keep herself awake. Cranking up the music, she reversed and headed toward home.
The sky had long since darkened into starlit night as she drove along the edge of the woods with the bright beams of her headlights highlighting the road looming out of the darkness.
She shook her head and yawned again, then blinked her eyes and rolled her shoulders to keep herself awake. Her eyes felt too heavy.
She must have only closed them for a split second, but as she jolted them open, a scream tore from her lips, and she slammed her foot on the brakes. The tires squealed loudly into the silence of the night as the car skidded to a halt.
In that fraction of a second it took for the car to come to a stop she caught a brief glimpse of someone throwing up their hands against the harsh glare of the headlights before they dropped to the ground, disappearing in front of the hood.
Olivia drew in a shuddering breath, adrenalin flooding her body and heart hammering in her ears. Her hands shook as she fumbled with the door handle. Throwing it open, she flung herself out and stumbled to the front of the car.
“Please don’t be dead,” she whispered desperately into the night air. “Please don’t be dead.”
7
Salem Village, 1695.
At the rattling of the latch, Theo looked up from the flickering lamplight and closed his journal, his body stiffening with tension. He curled his fingers around his journal protectively as he listened for the sound again, but after a few moments there was nothing. No footsteps, no voices. Breathing slowly in relief he relaxed his shoulders. It must have been the wind tugging at the barn doors and for the moment, he remained, as he preferred, alone.
Dipping his hand into the deep pocket of his jerkin, his fingers closed around his most prized possession, a stick of lead wrapped in string. He’d traded his bible to a passing traveler for it. He closed his eyes as his fist tightened around the innocuous object. His father would turn in his grave if he knew. He supposed he should feel more than a passing guilt, but he carried enough already, and his bible certainly hadn’t brought him any peace.
Dismissing the thought, he settled himself on a low bale of hay, setting the lamp securely atop another so it wouldn’t topple and catch light. He could have stayed in the house in front of the fire. After all, it was empty, so he certainly wouldn’t be disturbed, but he simply had no desire to do so.
He may have grown up in that house, but it wasn’t his. It now belonged to his brother, Logan. But while he’d inherited it after their father’s death, it was Theo who’d stayed to tend the lands and the herd while Logan had…
Theo shook his head, pushing away the dark, resentful thoughts. He wasn’t in the mood to dwell on his brother. Instead, he turned his attention back to the stick of lead in the palm of his hand, he pulled a leaf of paper free and began to sketch in quick, confident strokes.
The face which began to take shape was painfully familiar to him, haunting his dreams almost every night for years now. He could draw every line and curve of her with his eyes closed. Her hair was dark, spilling loose curls over her shoulders and down her back. Her eyes, he knew, were tones of honey and whiskey, and her rose-colored lips were soft and full, curved into a small half smile. He wished he could convey the colors of her to the page but with only his stick of lead it was impossible.
This was the first time he’d dared put her likeness to paper, but he wasn’t sure why now. Maybe it was because she’d always been his and his alone, a secret deep in his heart that he didn’t want to share with anyone else.
Tracing his fingertips reverently along the curve of her jaw, he could hear her voice in his mind as clear as a bell and as fragile as a whisper.
“Infernum exists, Theo, and we must find it first or Hell will be unleashed on Earth and Mercy will be the gateway…”
He did not understand the meaning of her strange words. How could mercy be a gateway? The words made no sense, but he had heard them so many times in his mind that he had them committed to memory. He could feel her urgency, her desperation… her fear.
A small, frustrated sigh escaped his lips. It was impossible, there was no way to find her, even if he knew where to start looking. He would never be able to escape Salem. He would never escape his brother. His life now, such as it was, had become his prison. Maybe he deserved it, he thought ruefully. Maybe it was his punishment for the terrible things he’d borne witness to and done nothing to stop. For the lies he’d told and the secrets he’d kept. Shaking his head in resignation, he folded the picture and tucked it carefully inside his jerkin as if it gave him some sort of comfort to keep it close.
His head snapped up at the unmistakable thud of hooves approaching, followed by the disgruntled snort and nicker of a horse. The door rattled suddenly and swung open as a familiar man entered, dragging two dirty, ragged children in with him.
“Stephen,” Theo greeted him evenly, his voice ice cold with contempt. “What are you doing here?”
“Theodore,” the other man replied, his tone just as flat and unfriendly.
Theo’s gaze tracked over to the two small, grubby children huddled together beside Stephen, their hands bound with a curious rope that seemed to be entwined with some sort of tiny white flower.
“Who are these children?” Theo asked.
Stephen’s lip curled into a sneer as he and Theo eyed each other with mutual distaste. “That’s not your concern. Your brother told me to bring them here,” he replied indifferently.
“My brother?” Theo scowled. “Why would he do that?”
“It’s not my place to question and neither should it be yours.” Stephen shrugged, although the smug set of his lips implied he knew more than he was admitting to. “I hear Nathaniel himself wants to question them.”
“Nathaniel?” Theo’s eyes went flat.
Nathaniel Boothe was a man Theo took great pains to avoid, not an easy feat when the man was constantly in the company of his brother, Logan. There was something about Nathaniel that made Theo’s blood run cold.
