“Tell me about it. I’m going to need so much therapy if I get out of here alive.”
“You will get out of here, and I know a great one. I can get you a referral. We send a lot of survivors to her.”
“Survivors,” Gemma echoes.
“That’s what you’ll be. Twice now.”
“It’s thanks to you.”
“Yeah,” I say with a smile. “It is. So don’t go giving up on me or anything. I’ll get these ropes loosened eventually, and just because I can’t burn my way out doesn’t mean I can’t use magic in another way.”
“How many times have you been in situations like this?”
“More than once. More than twice.”
“Aren’t you afraid your luck is going to run out?”
“No, because it’s not luck that saves me. I save myself. And I also put myself into these situations more than the average person. It’s my job to go poking around in the dark and scary shit, remember?”
“Yeah, I do.”
I stop struggling and let my body relax in the chair as much as I can. I’m not getting anywhere by pulling on the ropes, and the kerosene is burning my skin in the places where it’s been rubbed raw. I don’t want the pain to trigger the fire and have the whole place go up in smoke. I can’t promise we’ll get out in time.
“Can your whole body be on fire?” Gemma asks.
“I’m not sure, and I’m not going to risk it to find out.”
“Good idea. I definitely can’t be on fire,” she says seriously, and I laugh.
“Sorry. It’s not funny, just…it is.”
“Yeah,” she chuckles, and then coughs. “It’s so ridiculous that it is. What’s your plan?”
“I’m still trying to come up with one.” I know the banishing spell, but I don’t have the herbs. I vaguely remember the healing potion, but again… I’m empty-handed. Gritting my teeth and tightly closing my fists, I yank my left arm, twisting my wrist. The ropes splinter and dig into my skin. It hurts like a bitch, but it’s starting to loosen.
Taking a few seconds to let the pain fade—it hardly does—I give it another pull. My left arm is almost free when the root cellar doors are pulled open. Fading evening light filters in. We’re nearing sunset.
Beth and Amos come down, carrying lanterns. The doors slam shut behind them, sending a whoosh of warm summer air down into the musty old cellar.
“You do know you’ve kidnapped an officer of the law,” I start. “You’re going to be in deep shit for this.”
“You’ll thank me when this is over.” Beth sets her lantern on the ground, and I can see the trail of kerosene better. It’s poured around me in a circle, and some has been dripped, probably on accident, near the stairs.
The flame in the lantern makes my heart race, but crazy Aunt Beth carefully avoids her death trap. She opens a Bible and starts reading, voice so low I can hardly hear her. She doesn’t really want to actually hurt us. She legitimately thinks there is a demon inside of Gemma and reading the Bible is going to piss it off enough that it’ll strike up a deal and magically save her farm. Being able to see things the way crazy people do is part of why I’m good at my job. It doesn’t excuse their behavior, but understanding it lets me find them and save the next victim.
“You can’t make a deal if she’s dead,” I start. “Gemma is really sick.”
Amos shakes his head. “That’s exactly the thing he’d want you to say.”
“He?”
“The devil.”
“The devil isn’t talking to me. Or Gemma. Or anyone. I don’t think it works that way. Neither of us are possessed or in contact with the devil. So give it up.”
Beth keeps reading and I let out a sigh. I’m tied up, drenched in kerosene, but at least I’m not being tortured. Gotta find that silver lining somewhere. I watch Beth read a few lines and then look up at Gemma. She’s batshit crazy, but she’s concerned. She wants the demon to surface and talk to her, and I know there’s no reasoning with her. Unlike the last fucker who went after witches, she sees Gemma as a victim as well as a host.
“You’re going to kill her. She’s sick.”
