Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
MICAH
I listened from inside the house while Mason fought with Dakota on the back deck. It would be my turn soon. My hair was still wet from my shower.
This was all part of our plan to convince Aamon or whichever of his demons he had watching the house that Dakota would be alone soon.
In all honestly, it wasn’t a foolproof plan, and Aamon should’ve been able to see right through it.
But I could sense he was getting impatient, which would hopefully make him careless.
He’d been holding out for probably forty years at this point.
Since Mason hadn’t cared about anyone significantly after me, Dakota was a rare opportunity.
And since she was human, Aamon would always be working on borrowed time.
The back door flung open and she stormed into the house, her terrified eyes flashing to mine, but she didn’t give up on her act.
“You, too!” she shouted, pointing a trembling finger at me. “Both of you fucking control me, and I’m sick of it.”
“Maybe if you made smarter decisions, you wouldn’t need controlling!” I yelled back, hating the way she flinched. The argument was too close to our real issues, and it made my stomach twist. “But you don’t!”
“Well, that’s not your fucking problem, then, is it? It’s my problem. If I want to make stupid decisions, you can’t stop me!”
She tried to walk towards the front door and I blocked her path, grabbing her shoulders to hold her away from the exit. I squeezed her just enough to reassure her.
“I can stop you,” I said firmly.
“Get your hands off of me!” she screamed, even louder now. “I hate you and I don’t want to be here anymore!”
I let go of her, shaking my head. “Fine, Dakota. Go get yourself killed. I don’t give a fuck anymore.” Even though this was all an act, I hated saying the words.
Things moved quickly after that.
Dakota unlocked the door as Mason and I stepped into a corner of the entrance where we wouldn’t be seen. It was just dark enough to conceal us. I grabbed his hand, the warmth of his palm melting into mine before I cloaked both of us with invisibility and everything became cold.
When Dakota yanked the door open, Mason and I slipped out the front door first.
“Fuck you!” she yelled into the empty house, then slammed the door.
Dakota started stalking off down the street towards the bus stop, keeping her eyes darting side to side as I followed with Mason. We were barely half a step behind her.
Kapnos would’ve been a problem had I any space in my brain for anything other than paralyzing fear.
But all I could think about was Dakota’s safety.
Mason’s hand in mine was little more than a distant sensation, barely registering through the focus and the anxiety.
The earlier shower would be more than enough to keep me concealed.
I wished I could touch Dakota, comfort her in some way, but I couldn’t.
She kept a quick pace all the way to the bus stop, her nose red from the cold and her eyes watering. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she checked the time, then her notifications. Someone—probably her friend—had messaged her, and she tapped out a quick response with her thumbs.
For an instant, a morbid thought flashed in my skull. There was a possibility this could be the last message Dakota ever sent.
I didn’t truly believe that, but it was technically possible.
And the most unfortunate detail of that scenario was she was way more likely to be killed by Mason than Aamon.
Even if twenty other demons showed up, it wouldn’t be difficult for him to rip them to pieces with me there.
Aamon would be slightly more challenging, but still entirely doable.
The problem was that sort of power could also easily kill a human.
The three of us waited in silence for several minutes before the bus pulled up.
Dakota got on first, Mason and I right on her tail.
She didn’t have any assurance we were actually with her, which was needed. As much as I hated it, I needed her to still have doubts. Even the slightest amount of true doubt would help her act.
The bus ride felt way too short, and we were walking back towards her trailer before I knew it. Time had sped up, seconds blurring past, dragging all three of us towards an impending act of great violence.
Dakota stopped at her trailer first, grabbing some paper and pens, a few other random things.
Our plan had been to make it look like she was journaling or doing some sort of small ritual.
It didn’t really matter. Once she was in the woods, we’d find out quickly if Aamon had joined us, if he’d bitten our baited hook.
I wasn’t sure if I truly believed he’d fall for it or not. It did seem somewhat unlikely, but I wouldn’t rule it out.
She reemerged, then stomped down the stairs, pivoting to head straight back towards the trees.
Branches snapped under her boots as she passed the tree line, boughs of pine hanging just above her head.
Mason and I did our best to avoid any sticks on the ground, but we’d told Dakota to walk loudly for the reason of concealing our own footsteps.
It would also be useful to draw attention.
It wasn’t long before the sharp smell of necrichor hit my nose, making all the blood in my body run cold. Mason’s fingertips dug into the back of my hand, a slight vibration in his muscles. He could smell it too.
I mentally prepared myself as best as I could for what was coming, silently mapping out the landscape of Mason’s brain while keeping enough focus to remain invisible.
The wind shifted, cold gusts blowing through the trees and tangling in Dakota’s hair. She wrapped her arms around herself, seeming less and less confident the farther she went into the forest. Like she was regretting this.
Maybe I was regretting it too. Maybe we’d been too hasty making this plan, and we should’ve continued to wait for Mason to find a way to track him down.
But it was too late to obsess over any other plan we could’ve selected because Dakota was already deep in these dark woods, and she was entirely surrounded by demons.