“I don’t know,” Cyrus answers honestly, chewing on his bottom lip. “If your folks report it, there’s a chance. Our families don’t have a great track record when it comes to missing people though. Neither of us ever stood a fucking chance. Keeping their secrets will always be more important.”
Phantom tears stream down my cheeks. I know he’s right, no matter how much I wish he wasn’t. It won’t change what I’ve always known, deep down, to be true—my well-being willneverbe more important than protecting my pop’s reputation. I clutch my fists to my chest, fearing if I move them, pieces of my heart will spill out. As a child, I built a fortress inside me, shielding myself from what was happening around me, but instead of protecting me, it only made me their prisoner. Instead of freeing myself with the truth, I stayed locked inside the world they created for me. I see that now, but it’s too late.
I reach for my physical body, now an empty shell. With two fingers, I close the eyelids so they’re no longer gazing into the winter void. “I’m sorry,” I whisper to myself, curling my knees to my chest.
Branches crack in the distance. My head pops up, waiting for the source of the sound to appear. The scent of rot drifts through the air, choking me. I look around, frantic and gagging on the overwhelming aroma of decay.
“I forgot. There is one thing I can smell.” Cyrus moves, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close. “Don’t be afraid,” he says softly, tightening his hold. “Don’t let them frighten you.”
“What?” I croak just as two figures appear between the trees.
“You’ve brought her,” an inhuman voice utters. Shadows spill across the snowy ground as the monster steps into the open and reaches for me with a bony claw.
31
CYRUS
“Cyrus!” I scream, hiding my face in his arms. I push my feet into the ground, trying to shove myself away from the foul hand reaching for me.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he says repeatedly. “I know I haven’t given you any reason to trust me, but I promise, they’re not going to hurt you.”
“Honestly, child,” my aunt drawls, stepping next to the creature. “You’re already dead.”
Jace’s head snaps up, her muscles tightening. Whatever she was about to say fades as she takes Pearl in. Her face softens, eyes widening the longer she stares. Jace looks back at me, waiting for answers.
“This is my Aunt Pearl,” I sigh, waving a hand towards her. “Mattie’s mama.”
“Isn’t she dead?” Her words are unsteady as she looks from the ethereal pair back to me. “Cyrus?”
“They’re here for my old man,” I try to explain, but Jace cuts me off.
“Then why was thatthingchasing me through the woods? I have nothing to do with him!” Her voice continues to increase in volume and pitch until she’s shouting. “I wouldn’t have gottenlost in the woods! I wouldn’t have laid down and froze to death if it hadn’t been chasing me!”
“Don’t blame your fate on me,” the creature growls. “Humans are all the same—willing to blame anything but the true source of their melancholy. Your fate was far kinder than if he had gotten his hands on you again.”
Jace’s mouth snaps shut, her body getting smaller in my arms. Her voice is barely above a whisper when she asks, “But why me?”
“Your stench of grief, the generations of guilt poisoning you down to the bone. Your sorrow is so sickeningly sweet, it led me right to you. You were going to his home reeking of a cursed bloodline—one of the families who might possess the stolen relic. ”
“The what?” Jace asks, her voice cracking.
“The relic,” I sigh, taking her hands in mine. “Remember that thing you found when we were little? The silver antler I told you not to touch?”
“That was so long ago.” She shakes her head, pulling back her hands to cover her face. “I didn’t know what it was. I still don’t understand what it has to do with any of this.”
“Power,” Pearl interjects, crouching in front of Jace. “As it always is with these men, thinking they can out maneuver magic older than time itself. Touching the relic, even briefly, marked you, my child. Even if you hadn’t, the price of your father’s greed marked you before you left the womb. I, too, had to reconcile with a fate chosen for me by others.”
“Your father knew the consequences each time he called out to me in the woods. They all did. His time will eventually run out after I have dealt with Elias,” the creature snarls, voice tinged with an edge of impatience. “Even if the relic is not here, his life is still forfeit.”
“The woods?” Jace’s face crumples, finally putting all the pieces together. “Wait, it’s you, isn’t it? All those women and children were for you—you’re a monster.”
“Am I the monster, or merely the mirror? I did not demand any specific sacrifice—they chose what to offer up to me. It became obvious they chose what they valued least, so I demanded a piece of them in return.We are the Old Gods. We do not forget, nor do we forgive.”
A chill rolls through me. I want to ask more questions, but I’m horrified by what the answers may be. Jace’s brow furrows, making that face when she’s working out a problem in her head. “You followed Elias up here, right? At least, that’s what he was ramblin’ about. That’s a long time searchin’ for something that might not even be here.”
A low growl rumbles from the creature’s rib cage, red-orange orbs burning in its eye sockets. Shadows unfurl around its skeletal body, obscuring it in a dark tornado of decaying plant matter. Pearl rolls her eyes, dismissing the terrifying display as mere theatrics. “We don’t know for certain it’s here,” she explains, turning her focus to Jace. “We left another to search Hellsmouth while we came here, despite my protests aboutwhohe chose. Regardless, we had to wait until we could gain access to Elias.”
“What do you mean?” I snort, chuckling lowly. “You couldn’ta tried too hard. He barely leaves the house; he’s probably drunk on the couch right now.”
