Released (The Eternal Balance #3)(18)
I get it. You want to make me suffer. But can’t you see what you’re doing to her?
Sam tried to keep her expression neutral, but the swirling colors above her couldn’t lie.
At her pain, the demon sobered a little.
Now that’s interesting.
If the demon was more than ego and selfish desire—if it cared about someone other than itself—maybe I could find a way to gain the upper hand after all.
“Were you with no one other than him?” it asked.
“There was—there was one guy. Just once.”
“And did you think of him while you were with this one guy?” the demon drawled. I felt it—the bastard genuinely thought he’d make her feel better by continuing. “Because he thought of you. Each and every time he—”
STOP IT!
Sam swallowed but kept her expression neutral. “You’re trying to skirt the issue, Azirak,” she said, her voice soft. “But the truth is, he would stop you. He could.”
Just for shits and giggles, I pushed for control. Nothing happened, but I could feel the smallest glint of concern from the demon.
I did it once. You better believe I’ll f*cking do it again.
“He is…extraordinary. I know now that I must be extra vigilant. It will not happen again.”
Sam wanted to argue. I could see it in her eyes, along with the pain the demon’s confession had caused. But she pushed it all aside, and instead sighed and pulled out the keys to Kelly’s truck. With a flick of her wrist, she said, “You’re leading this little expedition to crazy. What now?”
“If you saw this girl again, do you think it would be possible to deduce the location of the bar?”
Sam shrugged. “Who knows? I mean, if she’s not at the bar—assuming this thing works in real-time—then maybe a landmark or something might tell us which of the two it is.”
Azi rounded the car and slipped into the passenger’s side seat as Sam slid behind the wheel. It dug into my pocket and pulled out the knife it’d used to cut my hand at the cabin. With a quick slice, a new trickle of red oozed from the surface. Without saying a word, it held out my hand to Sam.
She hesitated. The struggle in her eyes made me hate myself. Sam hadn’t asked for any of this. Her life would never have been affected by the fact that she was a Pure. She would have lived and died and never been the wiser. Instead, I’d come back to town to see my uncle one last time before he died, and carved a path of death and destruction through everyone’s lives—the exact thing I’d left them to avoid.
Irony was a bitch.
With a sigh, Sam took my hand. And even though I was stuffed down, pushed to the brink of my own body, I still felt the warmth her skin gave off, still felt the spark that came just from being near her.
Her eyes fluttered closed, and she inhaled sharply. A second later, a scream split the air.
Chapter Eight
Sam
It’s dark and I don’t see the axe swing down until it’s too late. I scream and trip sideways in an attempt to avoid it. Two things happen at once. First, I remember that I’m not really here. I’m just an observer, incorporeal and safe from whatever hell is playing out. And two, the axe doesn’t actually come down.
A chorus of giggles and a flash of something—probably a camera—and I realize that the weapon is fake. Another flash of light and I catch a glimpse of our mystery girl. At least, I think it’s her. In dark, smeared makeup and a black robe, she’s standing to my right, a few feet ahead—and she has the axe in her hands.
“This is the lamest thing I’ve ever seen,” another girl says from somewhere to our right. She snickers and flips our girl off before moving farther into the darkness. Several others come through, groups of two and three, most squealing with delight as the girl growls and swings her fake weapon.
When there’s a break in traffic, she leans her axe against the wall, partially obscured by the shadows, and slips through a cloth-covered door. I follow. There isn’t much to see. It’s a small room full of pipes and wires. There’s a large circuit board on the far wall, and a rickety table a few feet from the door. Nothing overly telling—except for the small paper cup on the edge of the table. I go to reach for it, but my periphery grows hazy and dark.
“Whoa.” I grabbed the wheel with both hands as a wave of dizziness rolled over me. “I can’t decide if doing that is a rush or it just makes me sick.”
“What did you see?”
“Not a lot. I still don’t know who this girl is, but it seems she has a second job. There was a paper cup with the Bush Gardens logo on it.” Logically that meant she wasn’t in New York, which sucked. In meant a road trip we didn’t really have time for. “Looks like we’ll be heading to Virginia.”
…
Azi had gone to feed. When it came back, the demon handed me a fifty-dollar bill, assuring me that it hadn’t been stolen or obtained by violence of any kind. It was crazy, and maybe it was the stress finally taking hold and liquefying what little good sense I had left, but I actually believed it. We’d filled the tank of Kelly’s truck and headed for the Jersey Turnpike.
The GPS on my cell told me the amusement park was four hundred and sixty miles from where we were, just outside Poughkeepsie. It equaled about an eight-hour car ride, one I wasn’t looking forward to taking with a demon. But I was hoping it would give me some time to think. There had to be a way out of this mess. A way to get Jax back front and center.