The Devil's Daughter (Hidden Sins #1)(53)

“It wouldn’t matter.” The truth held her immobile, but she had to get it out. “If we’re right, the killer will come after me. It’s only a matter of time.”

“It is.”

It was almost a relief to acknowledge that—to have it confirmed by a person she trusted. She turned and looked through the crack in the curtains to the darkness beyond. “Good.”

“Except . . .” Her relief faded before it could take hold, the truth making her sick to her stomach. “Neveah is still missing. If I’m right, then I’m the endgame. The unsub isn’t through with whatever he or she is planning.”

Which meant there would be more victims.





CHAPTER NINETEEN


Neveah couldn’t breathe. She clawed at the loose dirt, panic making her movements jerky. How long had she been holding her breath? It felt like an eternity. She fought harder against the weight pressing her down, dragging her body toward the surface.

What if it’s not the surface? What if I’m clawing deeper into the earth?

Before that thought could take root, her hand shot into the air. She renewed her efforts, gasping and choking as her head cleared the ground. It was hard to pull the rest of her body to freedom, harder than anything she’d ever done in her life.

But the thought of what might happen if he found her helpless like this kept her moving.

She pushed to her feet, weaving. Before her, the hills rolled east, gravity pulling at her, demanding that she run screaming into the night. Clear Springs was right there. She’d never been that good at eyeballing distances, but it couldn’t be more than a few miles. She took a step, and then another. A hand came down on the back of her neck, holding her in place. “Not yet, Persephone.”

No, no, no. I was so close! She bit the cry back, the truth sinking into her chest, heavier than his hand against her skin. She’d never been free. She’d never even had a chance. It was just a sick game he was playing with her for his own amusement.

The woman was even worse.

After each beating and . . . Her mind shied away from the things he’d done to her. The moment she’d curl in on herself and listen to his footsteps across the dirt floor, she’d come sit next to Neveah and stroke her hair and tell her how beautiful and important and vital she was.

Neveah preferred the beatings. At least they were honest.

He moved closer, and she couldn’t stop herself from cringing away from him. The soft feminine laughter behind them told her all she needed to know. After all, the woman liked to watch. The man’s grip tightened. “It’s time for you to earn your place. You never were much good at that before now, but it’s your chance to change that—to change everything.”

She didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. The two times she’d been out to the cult, she hadn’t paid much attention to what that bitch was going on about. Maybe if she had, she wouldn’t be in this mess to begin with . . .

A mess she wasn’t sure she was going to make it out of.

She’d seen the movies. If these two were holding her for ransom, they would have taken a picture with a newspaper or something to show proof of life. They wouldn’t have hurt her for fear they wouldn’t get paid—not that her parents had much money, but there was her college fund to think of. A sob worked its way up her throat, bursting from her mouth. College. She’d taken it for granted. All of it. The future. College. Boys. That she’d live to see eighteen, twenty-one, even the much-distant thirty.

She looked at the sky, the imprint of the man’s hand digging into the sensitive skin of her throat.

I don’t think I’ll live to see tomorrow.

“Run, Persephone.” His lips touched her ear, his breath unnaturally hot against her cold skin. “If you can make it home, you will be free.”

Neveah Smith ran.



Eden started awake, a nightmare she couldn’t quite remember leaving her breathless with fear. She winced when the sudden move jarred her back muscles, out of whack from sleeping half curled on the sofa. She cursed and rolled her shoulders, trying to relieve the tension. A quick glance at the clock made her curse again. Nine a.m. “How the hell?”

The answer lay on the nightstand, blinking at her incessantly. “Oh, no, I didn’t.” She snatched up her phone and had a moment of wishing she’d melt into a puddle on the floor. I don’t even remember putting it on silent. She never did, and sure as hell not while on an active case, officially or not. Eden thumbed through her messages, finding a text from Vic saying he was catching a flight out that evening as soon as he wrapped up a few things in Michigan, another from Britton repeating that information, and four from Zach of increasing worry.

A knock sounded on her door, and she jumped half out of her skin. “What the hell?” She stumbled to the door and opened it, blinking at the big brunet on the other side. It took her sleep-plagued mind precious seconds to connect name with face. “Chase.”

Zach’s deputy looked her up and down, but more like he was searching for injuries than checking her out. “The sheriff was worried.”

He shouldn’t worry about me. She bit the words back at the last moment. The truth was shaping up to be that Zach should worry about her. And she hadn’t answered her phone, so he wasn’t exactly out of line to send someone to make sure she was okay. “I’m fine.”