XXXI
The highway dissolved into a winding back road choked with cedars.
Cars crowded the shoulder, their headlights cutting arcs through the dark as the bass pulsed through the forest floor like a dying heartbeat.
Ahead, orange lanterns flickered between the branches, their light mingling with the scent of wood smoke and beer.
Penny wedged her car between two oversized trucks and turned to me, grinning as if she’d pulled off a bank heist.
“See?” she said. “I told you it would be epic.”
“Epic,” I echoed.
The air hummed with a dry, electric static that lifted the hairs on my arms.
We climbed out into a clearing where bonfires burned in loose rings. Bodies swarmed between firelight and shadow, and a warped path of melting jack-o’-lanterns led toward the main pit.
This was what happened when teenagers were given fire, alcohol, and zero supervision.
Penny’s red horns gleamed as she spun, taking it all in. “This is insane! They’ve got bobbing for apples, a photo booth, and—oh my God, Maddie, please tell me that’s not a mechanical spider.”
I laughed, though my eyes kept darting to the shadows beyond the firelight. “I’m afraid to find out.”
“Fear is for people not wearing five-inch heels.” She marched deeper into the fray. “Okay, where is he?”
“Who?”
“You know who.” She leveled a look at me. “Human serotonin. Tall, tan, hair that’s never met a brush. How is he not here yet?”
My snort died halfway up my throat.
At the far edge of the clearing, near a smaller bonfire, a cluster of older guys stood laughing, their shadows stretched long and distorted against the trees. Firelight glinted off the glass bottles in their hands.
“Wait. Ford?”
Penny followed my stare and grimaced. “Ugh. The babysitting committee.”
“He’s here?”
“Unfortunately.” She huffed, her devil horns tilting. “Mom made him promise to monitor things. He swore he’d stay out of my way.”
“Stellar job he’s doing,” I muttered, watching him laugh with a few alumni—the kind who graduated but never really left town.
Penny rolled her eyes so hard I thought she’d see her own brain. Then she froze, fingers digging into my elbow.
“Okay. Dead ahead. Twelve o’clock.”
A guy stood by the main fire pit in a jean jacket, messy hair, and the effortless confidence that made people drift toward him without realizing it. He leaned against a log, talking to someone with a smile that promised trouble first and consequences never.
“You’ve got it bad,” I said.
“Tragic, really.” Penny straightened her devil horns like a crown. “Can you grab us drinks? Then interrupt us in exactly ten minutes. I need to look effortlessly chill.”
“You are many things, Pen.” I tugged at the hem of my skirt, the cold air nipping at my legs. “Chill is not one of them.”
“Shut up and be my wing-angel.”
The music swelled into a heavy, thudding bass as I stepped away. Smoke curled from the fire pits in thick ribbons, and sparks drifted upward like tiny dying stars.
For one second, it felt like a normal high school party. Almost.
I headed for the keg; the heat from the nearest bonfire pricked my skin.
Ford stood there, cup in hand, his laugh dying the second he saw me.
“Maddie.”
His eyes swept over my costume, lingering on the sheer lace at my collarbone. Heat crept up my neck.
“Hey,” I said, forcing my voice light. “Chaperone duty?”
“Something like that.” He stepped closer, his warmth a welcome contrast to the night air.
Across the clearing, Penny’s laugh rang out as she leaned toward the guy in the jean jacket, bright and effortless.
I should’ve been happy for her.
I should’ve been listening to Ford.
But then the air turned.
The wind shifted, dragging a scent across the clearing that didn’t belong.
Copper and rusted metal.
Ford noticed it too.
His posture changed, relaxed warmth sharpening into something coiled. His eyes narrowed on the treeline, where the shadows seemed to thicken, clotting like blood.
“Whoa,” he said, voice dropping. “You feel that?”
I nodded once.
My hand brushed the edge of my purse. Through the fabric, I felt the cold, hard outline of Harvey’s weapon and the salt shells tucked inside.
An hour ago, I’d felt ridiculous for bringing them.
Now every instinct screamed that I hadn’t been paranoid enough.
“Hey—”
A shoulder slammed into mine, splashing cold beer over my wrist.
A guy stumbled into my space, grinning. “Whoa. Sorry, angel.”
His eyes skimmed my costume in a slow, deliberate appraisal.
“Didn’t mean to baptize you.”
“All good,” I said, steadying his cup before it tipped again.
His grin sharpened. “You sure? I’d hate to catch a smite for that.”
Another guy appeared beside him, nudging his shoulder. “Lay off, Wes. You’ll make her think we’re all animals.”
“What’s the matter, Tyler?” Wes laughed, gaze on me. “Jealous I found an actual angel first?”
From across the fire, Ford’s voice cut through the chatter.
“Careful, boys.”
He leaned against the keg, relaxed enough to pass for casual, but his eyes stayed locked on Wes’s hand, still hovering too close to my arm.
“That’s Penny’s best friend. You touch her, you answer to the Devil herself.”
Wes glanced back, unimpressed. “That supposed to scare me?”
Ford took a slow sip from his glass. “It should. You’ve seen Penny mad. No prisoners.”
“Good thing I like a challenge,” Wes said, turning back to me.
Ford’s mouth curved, but his eyes stayed watchful. “Trust me. She’s more challenging than she looks.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Funny. You say that like you’re not drinking on the job, chaperone.”
A low laugh rumbled in his chest. “Someone has to keep you two out of trouble.”
“Good luck keeping up.”
Wes stepped back into my line of sight. “So, what’s the verdict, Angel? You dance, or are you strictly Heaven’s wallflower tonight?”
I opened my mouth.
Before I could answer, a voice sliced through the noise.
“Maddie!”
Penny burst through the crowd, dragging her crush behind her as if she’d won him at a raffle. Her devil horns gleamed in the firelight, tilted at a wild angle, and a smudge of crimson lipstick decorated his cheek.
“Found him,” she announced, breathless and beaming. “Also, we’re dancing. You’re coming.”
I gave her a flat look. “Subtle, Pen.”
“It’s called multitasking.”
Wes held out his cup. “Liquid courage?”
Before I could overthink it, I took a sip. The beer was bitter on my tongue. Ford’s gaze lingered, dark and unreadable, a silent weight against my skin.
“Watch yourself,” he said, barely audible over the bass.
A smirk touched my lips as the alcohol warmed my nerves. “With the drink or the dance floor?”
“Both.”
Penny groaned. “Oh my God, she’s fine, Ford. Stop being a buzzkill!”
She grabbed my wrist.
“Come on. No hiding.”
With an easy tug, she pulled me into the heaving heart of the crowd.
The bass hit like a storm, rolling through the dirt and up my spine. Smoke curled around us in dizzying plumes, thick with perfume, sweat, and that persistent metallic tang I couldn’t shake.
Above us, lanterns swung from the branches, casting golden light over a sea of mermaids and werewolves moving like one shimmering organism. Penny vanished between me and her crush, her laughter swallowed by the music. Someone tossed glow sticks into the air, and they scattered like colorful comets.
For one dizzying moment, I let myself fall.
I let the noise, the color, and the heat blooming beneath my skin drown out the paranoia. I was just another girl at a party, dancing in the dirt, bass thrumming through my sneakers as air snapped at my skin.
Firelight painted our shadows long and feral across the ground—devil horns and angel wings dancing side by side at the edge of the treeline.
I laughed under my breath, feeling breathless—free.
Then, a different heat prickled the back of my neck. Not the bonfire’s blaze.
This was a focused warmth—a spotlight finding its target.
My eyes snapped open.
I scanned the darkness beyond the flames, searching for the source—and found Ford.
He leaned against the tailgate of a truck across the fire. Flames carved his face in half, one side gold, the other swallowed by shadow. His eyes were fixed on me, intense enough that the rest of the party—the bodies, the lights, the smoke—seemed to dissolve around him.
I froze mid-sway.
He didn’t smile. He didn’t move. He just watched, an unasked question hanging in the charged air between us.
I started moving again, a mindless rhythm, pretending I was still only dancing. Pretending the pull tugging at my sternum wasn’t real.
The bonfire roared, spitting sparks into the dark.
They were nothing compared to the invisible ones leaping between us.
And just as the tension stretched to a breaking point—a hand landed on my arm.
Fingers slid up to my shoulder.
I flinched and spun around.
Julian smiled back at me.
Dark paint streaked his temples like black veins. The white collar of his shirt was spattered with something that looked like dried blood.
“Having a good time, Madeline?”
His voice slipped beneath the bass and went into my bones.
I stumbled back, my sneaker catching on a root.
“I was.”
He tilted his head as if he could hear the exact moment adrenaline hit my bloodstream.
“You’ve been hard to get alone lately.”
“I’ve been busy.” My voice was light, but my heart hammered up my throat.
“Busy with your extracurriculars?” His eyes flicked toward the treeline—a knowing glance that iced my stomach.
My hand went to the strap of my purse. “Don’t worry, Julian. I’ll be leaving soon.”
“Why?”
His voice softened as he leaned closer.
“The party’s just getting started.”
His breath was warm and sickly sweet against my ear.
“The offer still stands, you know. There’s always a place for you with us.”
My spine went rigid.
“I’ll pass.”
A faint, mocking smile touched his lips.
He didn’t turn. He just stepped back and let the crowd swallow him whole, disappearing as if he’d never been there at all.
My skin had gone cold; the bonfire’s heat was a distant lie.
I pushed through the heaving bodies, lungs burning, until I found Penny again—glitter-bright and glowing, her drink held high, her crush orbiting her like a captured planet.
“Finally!” she shouted. “Where’d you run off to?”
“Nowhere,” I said, forcing a smile. “Just needed air. Too much smoke.”
Then the speakers died.
The music cut off mid-beat, plunging the clearing into a ringing silence.
A few people laughed—a thin, nervous sound.
“Is this part of the show?” someone yelled.
Overhead, the lanterns flickered.
Then went out.
Darkness surged in like ink, swallowing the clearing.
“Pen?” I whispered.
“Senior prank,” she said, but her voice trembled. Her knuckles went white around her cup. “Someone probably brought a fog machine.”
A scream ripped through the night.
It ended in a wet, choked-off silence.
Then the wind hit.
It barreled out of the treeline, violent and unnatural, sending embers spiraling like red-hot insects. One bonfire vanished, the flames snuffed by an invisible hand.
Then another.
And another.
Panic detonated.
“Run!”
The clearing became a sightless cage.
Through a rift in the chaos, I saw Ford—a silhouette of raw desperation, shoving through bodies, eyes wild.
“Penny! Maddie!”
Oily smoke rolled in like a living thing and swallowed him whole.
The crowd buckled, a stampede of terrified bodies. Something slammed into me, and my shoulder hit a bale of hay.
“Penny!” I coughed, ash scraping my throat.
I spun, searching for the flash of red devil horns, but a wall of screaming strangers surged between us.
She was gone.
Another scream tore through the dark, closer this time, followed by the sickening thud of something being dragged over leaves.
Then I heard it.
A low, bubbling snarl vibrated through the forest floor, and a shape lunged through a pocket of clearing.
A hound made of smoke and black bile. Its teeth were needles of obsidian, slick with dark, iridescent fluid that hissed when it hit the leaves. It had no eyes. Only pits of swirling shadow that drank the dying light.
Things that hunt.
The words moved through me.
The hound’s head twisted, its neck a frayed cable of smoke.
It caught my scent—and its snarl sharpened into a predatory snap.
I didn’t think to call for help. I knew with bone-deep certainty that if I stayed in the open, I would be next.
So, I ran.