Chapter Fifteen Violet
Chapter Fifteen
Violet
The lightheartedness Harper and I shared wrapped around me long after I’d left and headed home. It felt . . . nice, a thin thread of warmth I didn’t want to let go of.
But with every block that carried me farther from that tiny slice of normalcy, I felt the thread unraveling. The noise of the café faded into silence, until the only sound left was my own footsteps against wet pavement.
The quiet pressed harder the closer I got to my house, because I knew what was waiting for me. Nothingness.
Grayson had texted yesterday to let me know he was tied up with the investigation, and out of town for a night or two. No details, because he never gave them when it came to the case.
I hadn’t heard from him since, and the silence from his end only amplified the emptiness waiting for me at home. With him away chasing leads, everything felt heavier, like the town itself was leaning in to fill the space he usually occupied.
The rain had stopped, but the air still hung damp and heavy, a thick humidity that left the smell of asphalt and wet leaves too pungent in the air.
I rounded the corner, my modest home at the end of the street.
But my stride faltered when I saw an SUV parked across from my house.
I kept my head down, not wanting to reveal that I’d noticed it.
When I got close enough to hear the engine running, I chanced a glance at the vehicle out of the corner of my eye.
Tinted windows, engine running, headlights dimmed but not off. The license plate had a darkened cover on it, so I could only see that it was an Ohio plate. It exuded an eerie patience that felt all too familiar.
I stopped mid-step, a chill rolling over me sharper than the night air. My breath came too loud, too quick. I couldn’t see whoever was inside, but I felt them watching me. The weight of their gaze slid across the street and pressed right through my clothes to seep into my skin.
My legs itched to run, my fight-or-flight instincts telling me to turn around and go in the other direction. I fished out my cell, knowing I needed to call Grayson. He was the only one I could trust. And God . . . I trusted him. That surety, that realization, was a kick to the center of my chest.
But then the SUV pulled away from the curb and disappeared around the corner, and I exhaled harshly. I forced myself to keep walking. Not faster. Not slower. Just steady. Steady, Violet. Keep your shit together.
When I was inside, I shut the door, slid the chain in place, latched the dead bolt, and pressed my back against the wood, heart punching against my ribs.
The silence of my house had never felt so loud. I turned on a lamp in the living room, then the kitchen light, until I’d lit up every room so there was no darkness hiding. But it didn’t help. The shadows stayed, pressing in on me.
I sat on the edge of my bed and stared at the closet door . . . thought about what was inside, hidden away in a little box where I kept my darkest, ugliest secrets.
I felt a physical change overtake me. My pulse started jackhammering, sweat beaded on my brow and temples, and my heart raced. Memories surged through my brain like a blade, and there was no way to stop them.
The room had smelled of smoke and blood, thick and suffocating. The scent carved its way into your lungs and stayed there, burning every breath. Shadows curled high all around the cramped room, thrown by the spotlights that were placed in the corners.
I was so small, my legs not even touching the ground as they dangled off the wooden bench, body shaking from the cold. The other children sat just like me, rigid, eyes darting around but never lingering, as if afraid to be caught staring for too long.
Marcus stepped into the room, tall and unyielding, his presence the scariest thing I’d ever seen.
“My precious children.” His voice was deep and commanding and could scare me like nothing else ever had. His tone was always laced with a certainty that made you believe anything he said, even when your gut screamed to run.
Marcus moved to the center of the room, his smile too big, too friendly. His gaze found mine, and it felt like it burrowed straight through my chest, piercing my little heart and making it pound harder and faster.
I tried not to shiver, but I couldn’t stop it.
“And there she is,” Marcus hummed and crouched in front of me, taking my hands in his much bigger ones and exhaling slowly. I knew he saw us—the children—as the future of this family, of loyal and obedient worshippers who would bring the resurrection of the Blood God.
“Ashmein,” he said, saying the Blood God’s true name, his voice echoing against the chamber walls.
It was a heavy sound, like lightning arcing through the sky.
“The Father of Death and Blood.” Marcus let go of my hands and stood, looking at each child.
“Our ancient god is the ruler of all death, the lifeline of all blood. But betrayal tore the world open and sent Ashmein into the darkness.”
One girl beside me pressed her knuckles to her mouth, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. She was new to our family. Her tears would dry up . . . eventually.
“Only through the Vessel’s heart can he rise again,” Marcus continued. His face was carved with shadows that turned his features into something monstrous. “The Vessel is the key. And death and blood are the only way to release him.”
His words rippled through the room and seeped into the stone itself. The room seemed to pulse with the rhythm of a heart that wasn’t ours. When Marcus spoke of the Blood God, it always felt so sinister.
Marcus’s gaze pinned me, hard and unrelenting. The surrounding air thickened until every breath felt like I was swallowing rocks, the sharp edges tearing me from the inside out. I felt his words burn across my skin until they branded me.
“You will remember this,” he whispered, looking right at me. I thought about last night, when he’d killed a woman, expecting her to bring forth the Blood God. But when nothing happened, when I thought he’d burn the world down, Marcus had trained his gaze right on me.
His words curled around me as if they were a secret meant for me alone.
“She is the Vessel. She is the one prophesied.”
“When you hear your name again, Vienna, you will know. Blood and death open the gate. And you are the key to unlocking it all, Vienna.”
I blinked back to the present, the notebook Grayson had given me—the one I didn’t even realize I’d grabbed and started writing in—slipping from my hands and thudding against the floor.
The sound was impossibly loud in the silence of my bedroom, and I closed my eyes tightly.
I was losing my mind. My pulse roared in my ears, drowning everything else out.
I remembered every word Marcus had ever spoken, every cadence lacing his words. It had been carved into me all those years ago, waiting, dormant, for the right moment to slice me open.
Bile rose sharply in my throat, and I stumbled back, pressing my knuckles to my mouth just like that little girl who sat next to me all those years ago. I had buried her. Vienna.
That name wasn’t supposed to exist anymore. But there she was, pushing Violet out of the way.
The chime of my cell phone going off in the other room shattered my chaotic mind.
Like a robot, I went into the living room, where I’d tossed my bag, and grabbed my phone. The noise was shrill in the stillness. I assumed it was Grayson, but my stomach dropped when I saw a text message from an unknown number.
I’m so glad we finally found you, Vienna.
The words stared back, stark and merciless, each one a blade twisting in me.
My hands shook violently. I nearly dropped the phone as my breath came in jagged pulls, my lungs refusing to draw in enough air to feel comfortable and not like I was suffocating.
I read them again, though I didn’t need to. They were already etched in my mind, carved straight into my soul.
Vienna.
The name buried so long ago whispered in my brain until it didn’t feel like a word at all but a promise. A threat. To see it written all these years later made my skin crawl.
I felt like I was being broken bone by bone until nothing but shattered pieces were left behind.
I thought about the murders. I knew they were cult related . . . knew they’d come to Sweetwater Lake for me. The image of the tree carving, the heart, the SUV that had just been outside my home replayed on a loop.
The whispered name in the wind that night by the lake. The symbol the child drew in the coffee shop. The blocked calls that left only heavy breathing. It was all the same message, just carved in different ways.
I dropped the phone, all but threw it across the room like it was poisonous.
The need to call Grayson clawed at me, but I held back.
He was out there right now, chasing whatever new lead had pulled him away at dawn.
If I called him with this—if I finally admitted that the murders weren’t random, that the texter knew my real name, that the SUV had been watching my house—he’d come running.
He’d drop everything. And the case would stall while he tried to protect me instead of stopping them.
Worse, he’d demand the full truth. My real name. The cult. Marcus. The altar waiting for me since I was a child. Everything I’d buried under layers of new identities and silence.
I wasn’t ready for that yet. I couldn’t bear to watch the warmth in his eyes cool when he finally saw how broken I really was, or how the girl he held at night had once been chosen to die for a god that lived off the blood of others.
If I told him now, it wouldn’t just distract him. It would change everything between us, maybe forever. And right now, with the cult closing in, I needed him focused on the case . . . not on saving someone who might already be too far gone.
But I had no one else to talk to, and I felt like I was drowning.
My gaze slid to the window, but the glass reflected only my pale, fear-stricken face. I closed my eyes, remembering Marcus’s voice so long ago, the candles dripping wax onto the floor like a vein being opened and blood seeping out.
One day, Vienna, you will know it’s time to meet your God. You’ll know it’s time to sacrifice everything.
They were coming, and I needed to figure out what I was going to do, because the future held only one thing.
I’d be on that altar with my heart carved out and offered to the Blood God.