Chapter 3
Sleep came easier than I expected, pulling me under in languid waves until my worry and fear and all of the bad that had happened faded away into obscurity.
For a while, there was nothing. Only a peaceful quiet that wrapped around me like a balm.
The kind of stillness that made me think, just for a moment, that maybe I’d been wrong.
That maybe whatever had been done to me at Temple had already burned itself out, leaving me exhausted but intact.
It felt like the deepest sleep I’d had in months, and I let myself sink into it, clinging onto the fragile hope that morning would come and everything would be okay.
And then the whispers came.
They were soft at first, distant enough to mistake for a dream.
Voices that carried in on a current I couldn’t quite place, brushing the edges of my awareness without any sort of urgency.
I drifted along with them, still half-asleep, content to let them pass me by.
But the sounds didn’t fade. They grew stronger, threading themselves through the quiet with each breath I took.
Drawing nearer with every passing second.
The darkness around me thinned, the edges of it pulling apart like wet paper as the whispers pressed in closer, no longer willing to remain in the background. They circled me like vultures, layering in one over the other, invasive and intimate and yet achingly familiar.
…Sister…
The word slithered through my mind, making my breath seize.
…Join us…
My eyes snapped open.
The room was dark, the fog outside pressed thick and unmoving against the windows, muting the moonlight until everything felt sealed off from the rest of the world.
Trace’s breathing rose and fell evenly from the floor beside my bed as Dominic remained still in the armchair, his presence the only thing anchoring the room to the real world.
Everything appeared normal, just the remnants of another bad dream, and yet every nerve in my body was screaming that something was very, very wrong.
…The time is now…
Terror flooded my chest, freezing me in place.
It wasn’t a dream. The Horsemen’s voices were back, curling around my thoughts the way smoke from a burning room crept under a door.
Sliding through my head with the kind of ease that meant they’d never really been gone in the first place.
They’d just been waiting in the dark for the right moment to strike.
I sat up slowly, the covers sliding down to pool at my waist.
…Come...
The voices didn’t ask. They didn’t even order. They just spoke, as plain and obvious as if someone had handed me a glass of water and told me to drink it.
My body responded before my brain did.
My hand was already moving the covers aside.
My legs were already sliding toward the edge of the bed.
There was no resistance, no internal argument, just a smooth, terrible knowing that this was what I was supposed to do.
I could feel a sense of movement and momentum, of the others already in motion, waiting for me to fall into step beside them.
I needed to join them. The Horsemen. My brothers. Whatever the connection was, I could feel it tugging at me from somewhere far away, pulling me toward them with the kind of gravity I’d only ever felt with Trace and Dominic.
Except this didn’t feel like love. This felt like obligation. Like a debt being called in.
Of course I needed to join them. The thought arrived dressed up like my own, slipping into my head with the same easy familiarity as the voices themselves.
My bare feet hit the cold hardwood without me deciding to put them there.
I stood, my spine pulling itself straight as though strings were attached to it. The pull in my chest surged in approval, warmth spreading through my veins as though I’d finally made the right decision.
…The hunt begins soon…
…Do not delay…
The hunt.
Yes. The hunt.
The knowledge poured into me without invitation. The Son of Perdition. The threat that needed to be ended before it could grow into something worse.
There was no question in any of it. Only the inescapable certainty that this was what had to happen.
I moved toward the door without thinking about it, each step carrying me forward before I could second-guess it. The voices hummed their approval, a chorus of agreement that filled the spaces between my thoughts until there was no room left for doubt.
Trace stirred on the floor and I froze.
“Hey.” His voice was rough with sleep, concern bleeding into it the second he saw me on my feet. He pushed himself up onto one elbow, his eyes finding me easily even in the dark. “What’s going on? What are you doing?”
…He cannot stop you. Do not let him stop you…
“I have to go,” I said, the words flat and distant, as though it had traveled from somewhere far away before reaching my lips.
Dominic was on his feet in an instant, every line of him snapping to attention at once. “And where exactly do you imagine you’re going at this hour?”
…They will try to keep you here. Do not let them…
“I have to go to them.”
Trace was already on his feet and crossing the room toward me, his voice tight with alarm. “Jemma, listen to me. You need to fight this. This isn’t you talking. This isn’t what you want to do.”
But he was wrong. It was me. It had always been me. This was what I was meant to do. What I’d been made for. Why couldn’t they see that?
…They’ll never understand…
…Make them move or eliminate them…
“I have to go now,” I said, taking another step toward the door.
Dominic moved to block my path. “I’m afraid I cannot allow that to happen, angel.”
Anger rose in me at the certitude in his voice. The Horsemen’s pull recoiled, then surged forward, anger flaring hot and sudden in my chest, washing through me with startling force.
Trace circled around, moving shoulder to shoulder with him. “You need to wake up! Come on, look at me. This isn’t what you want to do.”
…They’re in your way…
Yes. They were in my way.
My magic was already responding before I’d even given it permission, gathering thick and ready in the palm of my hands. “Move,” I ordered icily.
“That’s not happening.” Trace’s voice was firm, but I could hear the worry beneath it. “Jem, please. You have to fight it.”
…You are stronger than they are…
…They can’t stop you…
…Show them…
I was stronger. I could feel it now, the power thrumming through my veins, vast and untapped. It would be so easy to move them. To break them. To make them understand.
My hand lifted, magic gathering at my fingertips.
“Jemma, don’t—!”
I turned my palm toward him, my magic surging forward without hesitation. It wrapped around Trace first, then Dominic, locking their bodies in place before either of them could so much as flinch.
Trace’s eyes went wide, the shock on his face cracking into something panicked as he realized he couldn’t move.
Dominic’s jaw was clamped down, fury frozen in his expression at what I had done.
But that wasn’t the only thing there. There was fear too, and I already knew without having to ask that it wasn’t for himself.
“I’m sorry,” I said, and a part of me meant it, even if the words felt thin and strangely removed. “But I can’t let you get in my way.”
The look on Trace’s face nearly stopped me dead in my tracks. Nearly. The way his eyes searched mine like he was still looking for me in there, like he refused to believe I was really gone, hit me somewhere I hadn’t fully sealed off yet, making my hand waver for just a second.
“It won’t last long,” I heard myself say, my voice flat and impersonal in a way that didn’t feel like mine at all. It was too cold. Too detached. “You’ll be free soon.”
I didn’t wait for them to answer.
I turned away and stalked across the room, the door unlocking at my approach as if the house itself recognized the inevitability of my departure.
The pull guided me down the corridor and the stairs and then into the foyer, my steps smooth and steadfast, as though I’d walked this path for this purpose a hundred times before.
I grabbed my jacket from the hook and shrugged into it without breaking stride, my hand sliding into the inner pocket as my fingers closed around the familiar hilt hidden there.
The Sword of Angelus responded immediately, alive and vibrating against my palm, as though it had been waiting for exactly this moment.
Cool night air rushed over my skin as I stepped outside, the late-night fog curling eagerly around my ankles and closing in behind me like it had gathered there just for me. Like it had come to welcome me home.
I lifted my eyes.
A figure waited at the edge of the grounds, silhouetted against the fog and mounted on a black horse that seemed to drink in the darkness around it.
I knew without question it was Famine, waiting on his black steed with the stillness and patience of an otherworldly being who’d always known I would come.
Beside him stood another horse, this one almost regal, its coat as white as fresh snow beneath the muted moonlight.
Mine.
My feet moved without conscious thought, carrying me forward across the grounds. The fog parted for me as I walked, the pull strengthening with every step I took until the urgency felt less like compulsion and more like coming home.
“Sister.” Famine’s voice carried across the space between us, his pitch-black eyes gleaming under the moonlight as they tracked my approach. “You’ve kept us waiting.”
I didn’t answer. Words felt unnecessary. I reached the horse and placed my hand against its neck, caressing it once as warmth spread up my arm at the contact. It lowered itself instinctively, waiting for me to mount it.
Before I could lift myself, movement erupted behind me, drawing my attention over my shoulder. Dominic and Trace exploded from the house, their eyes burning into me from across the grounds. The spell had dissipated far faster than I’d anticipated, but I didn’t have a chance to question it.