Chapter 24 Kate
KATE
Laura found me in the kitchen that evening, staring at a glass of wine I hadn’t touched.
“That bad?” She slid onto the stool beside me and reached for the bottle. “Or are you saving it for a special occasion?”
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“With the wine or with life in general?”
“Yes.”
She poured herself a glass, then topped off mine even though it was still full. “How are you holding up?”
“I don’t know that either.” I finally picked up my glass, swirled the wine without drinking it.
“I should be devastated, right? My husband just moved to another continent. And I’m sitting here feeling.
..” I searched for the word. “Lighter. Like I’ve been holding my breath for months and I finally get to exhale. ”
“That’s not a crime, Kate. Especially not with all you two have been through. First husband back from the dead. Current husband having freakish visions. Neither crime nor misdemeanor.”
I almost smiled but didn’t. “It feels like one.”
Laura set her glass down and studied me. She had that look—the one she got before lecturing Mindy.
“Okay,” I said. “Lay it on me.”
She rolled her eyes. “I was just going to say that you loved Stuart. You still love Stuart. But with that whole oracle thing, you’ve been in limbo for over a year now—longer, really, if we’re counting from when Eric came back.”
I shifted uncomfortably. Because yeah. We definitely had to count from when Eric came back.
“You’ve been trying to be a good wife to a man who was turning into someone neither of you recognized, while the love of your life was sleeping under the same roof.” She raised an eyebrow. “That’s exhausting. Feeling relief doesn’t make you a bad person. It makes you human.”
“When did you get so wise?”
“I’ve always been wise. You just don’t listen.”
“You know me so well,” I said, and we both laughed.
A moment passed. Then another. And another. Finally, I said, “He knows. About me and Eric. That one time. The visions showed him.”
“Ouch. How’d he take it?”
“Better than I deserved.” I drew in a breath, remembering. “He said being angry at me for loving Eric was like being angry at the sun for rising.”
“That’s either incredibly generous or incredibly passive-aggressive.”
“It was generous. That’s what makes it worse.”
We sat in silence for a moment. Somewhere in the house, I could hear the muffled sounds of the students—laughter, footsteps, the ordinary noises of young people who—even though they’d been warned—still had no concept of how close they were to something terrible.
“So,” Laura said finally. “What now?”
I flashed a well, duh look at her. “I figured we’d try to close the portal and bind Samarek.”
“Well, yeah, sure. Because there’s always a demon to destroy. I meant now that Stuart’s gone. About Eric. The thing that was holding you back isn’t holding you back anymore.”
I shrugged. I’d been asking myself the same question since Stuart’s taxi disappeared around the bend. “I don’t know.”
“Bullshit.”
“Laura—”
“You know exactly what you want. You’ve known for months. Years, probably.” She leaned forward. “The question isn’t what you want. The question is whether you’re going to let yourself have it.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It’s exactly that simple.” She ticked off points on her fingers. “Eric loves you. Has always loved you. He would walk through hellfire for you—has, in fact, literally done that. You love him. Stuart has released you. The only thing standing between you and the thing you want is you.”
“I know,” I admitted. “But I worry. He’s done some stupid, reckless shit.”
“I have a feeling he was sometimes stupid and reckless back when you were together before.”
She wasn’t wrong. “What if it doesn’t work out?” Because, yeah, that was my big fear. What if the thing I’d been wanting ever since I knew Eric was back turned out to be a McGuffin? “What if we try and it falls apart and we lose everything?”
“What if you don’t try and you spend the rest of your life wondering?”
“I hate it when you decide to be wise.”
“Yeah. I’m annoying that way.” She reached over to squeeze my hand.
“Look. I get it. It’s scary. After everything you’ve been through—losing him the first time, building a life with Stuart, losing Stuart to the visions, getting Eric back but not really having him—the idea of actually being together, for real, with nothing in the way? That’s got to be a little terrifying.”
“It is.”
She took a long sip of wine before continuing. “But nothing’s going to happen if you don’t make it happen. Men are idiots. Even the good ones. Especially the good ones. They’ll wait forever, convinced they’re being noble, while you’re over here waiting for them to make a move.”
“Voice of experience?”
“How do you think I ended up with Cutter?” She laughed. “That man would have pined from a distance for the next decade if I hadn’t grabbed him by the collar and told him we were doing this.”
“And how did that work out?”
“The results were awesome.” Her smile turned wicked. “Very, very awesome.”
“I didn’t need to know that.”
“Yes you did. Because here’s the thing—you’re not going into this blind. Eric already loves you. You already love him. You’ve already been married, had a daughter together, faced death together. This isn’t a risk. This is a sure thing that you’re too scared to claim.”
I stared at my wine and thought about the woman holding the glass. The woman—who’d faced demons and portals and ancient evil but couldn’t seem to walk down a hallway and knock on a door.
“Stuart left partly so I could be with him,” I admitted quietly. “He told me that. He said he was letting me go so I could be a family with Eric.”
“Then don’t waste the gift he gave you.” Laura stood, taking her wine with her. “Stuart loved you enough to leave. The least you can do is love yourself enough to stay.”
She left me alone in the kitchen with a full glass of wine and an empty list of excuses.
I sat there for a long time, thinking about doors. The one in our basement that led to hell. The one Stuart had walked through this morning. The one three doors down from my bedroom that I’d been too afraid to knock on.
Some doors, once opened, changed everything.
Maybe it was time to stop being afraid of that.
Maybe.
I hadn’t decided yet. But at least I’d decided to decide.
Timmy’s room smelled like baby shampoo and the lavender sachets Fran tucked into his dresser drawers. I stood in the doorway for a moment, watching him arrange Boo Bear against his pillow with the kind of intense concentration only small children can muster.
“Mommy.” He looked up, and his whole face brightened. “You came.”
“Of course I came.” I crossed to his bed and sat on the edge, brushing the hair back from his forehead. It needed cutting again. It always needed cutting. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”
“Fran said you were busy.”
“Never too busy for you, baby.”
He scooted over to make room, and I stretched out beside him, Boo Bear wedged between us. The ceiling above his bed had glow-in-the-dark stars that Stuart had put up when we’d first moved into the mansion. Back when everything had felt like a fresh start.
“Mommy?”
“Hmm?”
“Is the house sick?”
I turned my head to look at him. His eyes were wide and serious in the dim glow of his nightlight. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”
“It feels wrong.” He clutched Boo Bear tighter. “Like when my tummy hurts but I can’t find where.”
My chest constricted, terrified that my little boy was tuned in to this horror.
“The house is fine,” I said, and the lie tasted sour on my tongue. “It’s old, that’s all. Old houses make funny noises.”
“It’s not the noises.” He was quiet for a moment, his small fingers working at Boo Bear’s matted fur. “It’s the Knocking Man. He’s louder now.”
The room seemed to get colder. Louder? That had to mean the portal was getting stronger.
“He’s still knocking?” I kept my voice light, casual, even as my heart hammered against my ribs.
Timmy nodded. “He wants to come in. He’s been knocking for a long time. But the door’s locked.” He yawned, his eyelids drooping. “He says the lock is almost broken.”
Almost broken.
Ice cold fear cut through me.
How much time did we actually have?
“Timmy.” My voice came out steadier than I expected. “Has the knocking man talked to you? More than before?”
“No, Mommy.” His eyes were closing now, sleep pulling him under despite the horror show playing out in my head. “But he thinks louder now.”
I shivered. “What does he think about?”
“Coming home.” Timmy’s voice was barely a whisper now. “He wants to come home. And he thinks about the girl. The one with the bright light inside.”
Allie. That must mean Allie.
My blood turned to ice.
“But mostly he thinks about me now,” Timmy continued, and my heart stopped entirely. “He says I’m special. He says not all little boys can talk to him.”
“Timmy, listen to me.” I pulled him closer, probably too tightly, but I didn’t care. “Don’t talk to the knocking man. Don’t listen to him. If you hear him thinking, you think about something else. Boo Bear or Elena or dinosaurs or anything else. Okay?”
“But he likes me.”
“And this is a fun game he likes, too. So promise me. Promise you’ll play this game?”
“Okay, Mommy,” he said, unaware that something ancient and terrible was trying to use him as a doorway.
“I told him no anyway,” Timmy added, nestling into my arms. “I told him you wouldn’t let him in. I said my mommy fights monsters.”
I forced myself not to gasp, then held him tight, letting him drift to sleep as I stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling and felt the cold weight of fear settle into my bones.
This wasn’t just a portal anymore. This wasn’t just Samarek trying to get to Allie.
He was targeting my son.
We’d been focused on closing the portal. On researching and training and preparing.
But now we were out of time for all of that. This thing was stalking my boy, and we needed to end it now.
I pressed my lips to Timmy’s forehead, breathing in the little-boy smell of him, the shampoo and the warmth and the absolute trust. He believed I could protect him. Believed it without question or doubt.
I had to make that true.
And so I eased myself out of his bed, tucking the covers around him, positioning Boo Bear within easy reach. At the door, I paused and looked back at his small form in the nightlight glow.
“I won’t let him in,” I said, a promise carved from steel and terror and a mother’s love. “I swear I will keep you safe.”
As I whispered, Timmy slept on, peaceful and trusting.
And somewhere below us, in the dark beneath the bones of saints, something ancient kept knocking. Louder now. Almost through.
I needed to find Eric. We needed to close that portal.
And we needed to do it tonight.
I’d known I would find him in the library.
That was where he always retreated when he needed to think or relax or puzzle something out.
That was one of the things I loved most about him—the way he puzzled things out instead of leaping straight into the fray as I always had.
And that was part of why he’d loved me—because we’d each fit each other’s open spaces, the last piece in a jigsaw puzzle.
We always had. And, I knew, we still did.
He looked up when I came in and flashed that familiar smile. Tonight, though, it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“He’s knocking at the door,” I said, then tasted tears and realized I was crying. Immediately, Eric was at my side, his fingers twining with mine.
“Tell me,” he said.
“Timmy.” It was all I could manage. I had to force the sobs back before saying more. “The Knocking Man from before. Oh, God, Eric, he’s Samarek, and he’s going to try to hurt my little boy.”
“He won’t.” He tilted my chin up so that I was looking straight at him. “We won’t let him. Kate,” he whispered. “We’re going to end this.”
I started to nod, but he cupped his hands to my face, then pressed his forehead against mine.
He leaned in, and even through all my emotional chaos and fear, I wanted his kiss, his touch, and when his lips closed over mine, it was all I could do not to pull him down to the floor and lose myself in touch and memory and a wild, untamed longing.
That didn’t happen.
Instead, we leaped apart, startled by the way the door slammed open and Mindy cried out, “Aunt Kate! Oh! I, um, it’s opening! The portal is opening. Like, right now.”
That cut through everything, and just like that we were racing through the hall joined by Zane and Ren and Ana.
“Just now. We heard a rumble and went to look. Jared and Allie did the recon—they’re the fastest. But we didn’t even need them to get close. Not really. We could see its glow from all the way across the basement.”
She paused for a breath. “Marcus is already heading down with Eliza and Cutter and Sophie. It’s not just Samarek they’re fighting. It’s demons, too. I don’t know how they got down there. But there’s like a dozen of them.”
“Well, hell,” Eric said. “There must be a hidden tunnel.”
He was probably right. Which meant that more corporeal demons would be joining the party—a guess that immediately proved to be right when I heard them rampaging through the mansion.
“Keep us busy up here so that they can do what they do down there,” Eric said, and he wasn’t wrong.
“Anyone not already in the basement, get armed and get fighting. Eric and I are going down. And trigger the house alarm. Get the staff and Timmy and Elena in one place—not the Safe Room. The battle will be right under it. Outside in the parking lot would be best. Close to the street. Lots of eyes.” I swallowed.
“Keep them safe, Mindy,” I said, wishing I had time to run to Timmy. To see his sweet face.
But there would be time enough after. I was going to make sure of that.
With a firm nod, Mindy darted out of the room, Eric and I rushing right out behind her but heading in the opposite direction. Not to outside and safety, but to the portal and the battle. And the place where were going to finally take Samarek down.