Lothaire (Immortals After Dark #12)(8)

Her close-lipped cousins had buried the man out behind the barn, telling themselves he must’ve had it coming.

The family hadn’t begun to suspect she was possessed until more recently, when the demon had posed a mutilated coal company rep among Ellie’s old stuffed animals, then “blasphemed” for her kinfolk in ways a girl like Ellie “could never imagine.”

After that, her mother and Uncle Ephraim had started chaining her at night, like Ellie was one of the hounds outside. Though she hated the chains and could easily have picked the locks, she’d endured them.

But it’d been too late for some.

Hikers had found a gruesome altar in the woods, with human bones littering the site. Mama had whispered to Ephraim, “You reckon it was Ellie?”

Not me! The damned thing inside her was winning, taking control more often, and more easily.

Just a matter of time till I’m gone altogether.

As blue lights crawled closer, glaring even in the bright moonlight, Ellie had a mad impulse to clean herself up, waylay the sheriff outside to badger him for a warrant, then maybe cop to a crank call.

After all, she hadn’t done these killings. Or maybe she should run!

But she knew the Law would put dogs on her trail; she’d never make it to the next holler, not in the winter.

And that wouldn’t solve the problem of the demon within her—

She heard a thud behind her and spun around. Her mother, usually so resilient, had fallen to her knees, her face crumpling. “It told me it’d do me in, then go after the rest of the family, go after baby Josh.”

Joshua, Ellie’s adored brother. She pictured him toddling about in his footy pajamas, his chubby cheeks growing pink as he laughed. An aunt was babysitting him in a trailer just down the mountain.

At the thought of harm coming to him, Ellie’s tears fell unchecked. “Wh-what should I do?”

Mama’s own tears poured. “If the reverend—God rest his soul—and his ministerin’ couldn’t get that devil of yourn out of you . . . no one can, Ellie. Maybe you ought to let the sheriff take you.”

“You want me to go to jail?”

“We done everything we can.” Mama rose, warily stepping closer. “Maybe them prison folks or even them psychiatrists can keep it from killin’ again.”

Prison? Or death? Ellie swallowed, knowing that once she decided how she’d handle this, nothing could sway her. If her mother was stubborn, Ellie was trebly so, as immovable as the mountains all around them.

Sirens echoed as the cruisers prowled up the long drive, then skidded to a stop in front of the trailer.

Ellie swiped at her tears. “I’ll do you one better than jail.” I could take the demon with me. If she ran out the front door with blood on her and a gun in hand . . .

Mama shook her head sternly. “Elizabeth Ann Peirce, don’t you even think about it!”

“If this thing”—Ellie slashed her nails across her chest—“thinks it’ll hurt my kin, then it don’t know me very good.” Though her own gun and ammo had been taken from her, her father’s Remington remained in his closet. The sheriff wouldn’t know it was empty.

“You ain’t doin’ this, Ellie! There might be hope, some kind of newfangled treatment.”

“You want me to go from roamin’ these mountains to being locked in a tiny cell?” She didn’t remind her mother that she’d probably get the death penalty anyway.

Slaughtering five deacons in Appalachia? Ellie was done for.

“I won’t let you do this.” Mama jutted her chin.

“We both suspected it’d come to this.” The demon’s just killin’ me slow. “My mind’s made up.”

At that, Mama paled even more, knowing it was as good as done.

“And just think—if I kill this demon, I’ll go to heaven. Be with Daddy,” Ellie said, hoping that was where she’d end up. She held out her arms, and her mother sank against her, sobbing. “Now, stop actin’ like you don’t know this has to happen, like you haven’t known for months.”

“Ah, God, honey, I just . . .” More sobs. “Y-you want to say a prayer?”

Ellie stood on her toes and pressed a kiss to her mother’s smooth forehead. “No time. What if it comes back?” And already the deputies were surrounding the trailer, their boots crunching in the snow, while the pompous sheriff demanded that Mrs. Peirce open up for them this minute.

He knew better than to storm a household on this mountain.

With a steadying exhalation, Ellie turned toward her mother’s bedroom, forcing herself to look at the bodies. These men had had families. How many children were fatherless because of this demon?

Because I’ve been doggedly clinging to hope?

Ellie passed her own bedroom, shuddering at the sight of the chains at the ends of her bed, coiled like rattlesnakes.

Then she stared bitterly at the Middle State University pennants she’d tacked to her room’s vinyl walls just before all this had begun.

How excited she’d been about college! To afford the tuition and dorm, she’d worked at her uncle’s outfitter shop each day after school and as a guide during every holiday for years.

Ellie had been in classes just long enough to comprehend with wonder, Holy shit, I can . . . I can actually do this! Coursework had come surprisingly easy to her.