“It was all their fault. They lied to everyone. Said they saw me skinning a coyote.”
“Were you?”
“Yes, but they said it was still alive.”
Amber raised her chin, clearly upset by the thought. “Was it?”
The woman scoffed. “How is that even remotely relevant?”
“You thought they deserved to die because they lied about a coyote?”
“They also said I broke a little girl’s arm.”
“Did you?”
Sarah glared at her. “She took my doll. Damn straight, I did.”
“Ay, Dios mio,” Dora said. “Pauline was afraid of her. She tried to tell me, but… I just couldn’t imagine it.”
Amber went to grab the woman’s hand, then remembered she couldn’t. “I saw Dora’s memories, Sarah. I don’t know what you think happened, or how you think she was involved, but she did her job correctly. The cattle guard was down. She couldn’t get across.”
“It was a setup. I know damned well she was in on it. The cattle guard just happened to be down when the Gladwells were waiting for me? Not likely.”
Amber leaned forward. “Did they…were you hurt?”
“No. They just kept me on the farm. Didn’t let me go to school or have any friends. I… They died when I was sixteen. That’s when I found the letters. My mother set it all up. Said she was worried I would hurt someone.”
“How did they die?”
“That’s not the point!” Sarah slammed a hand on the table.
Amber blanched, and Quentin almost came unglued. He steeled himself, biding his time.
“No, I don’t suppose it is,” Amber said.
“Ay, Dios mio,” Dora repeated, then hugged herself and rocked.
“Are you okay, hon?” Amber asked her.
“What’s she saying?” Sarah asked. “How is she here?”
Quentin scrubbed his face. “This still doesn’t tell us how you did it.”
“Thinking about using it yourself?”
Amber pressed her nails into the palms of her hands and drew blood. It disturbed him, but she was focused on the psychopath in front of her. “You need to tell us, Sarah.”
“Why?”
“Because the demon doesn’t just kill the people you summoned it for. It kills the summoner, too.”
She stilled. “You’re fucking with me.”
“It’s a tad angry about being controlled.”
The fear on her face was genuine. “Yeah, but it’s not just me. Lots of people have used it.”
“Yes, and they’ve all died,” Quentin said.
She looked at him. “Are you even Deaf, or was that a ruse, too?”
“Sarah, how did you contact it?” Amber asked. “How did you summon it?”
“On the dark web. There’s a group that worships this demon named Sadeet. For five hundred bucks, they tell you how to summon it. How to basically get away with murder.”
Quentin took out his phone. “I’ll let La Guardia know. They can take down the site and figure out who’s behind it so they don’t do something like this again with another demon.”
“And how will they do that?” Amber asked. “Considering how gentle they were with you.”
He looked up at her, surprised. “You’re worried about the people who sell an all-access pass to a demon assassin?”
“No.” She crossed her arms. “I guess not.”
“The house, human,” Rune said.
Quentin watched through Rune’s eyes. Someone, a girl, opened the front door of Dora’s house. She pushed the salt aside.
“Get ready,” Rune said. “It’s coming.”
Quentin retrieved the dagger from the sheath he’d slipped into the back of his pants. He felt rather than saw the tendrils of ink slide across his eyes and slowly fill them. Unable to help that now, he took Amber by the arm and lifted her out of the chair. “It’s coming.”
“What?” Startled, she glanced around.
“My niece,” Dora said, looking out the window.
“She broke the circle.” He shoved her toward the door. “Get out. Get inside my truck. It’s protected.”
“Release us, human.”
“No.”
“You will not survive.”
Quentin drew in a deep breath and said out loud, “You fucking say that every time.”
“And one day, we will be right.”
“Yeah, well, today’s not that day.”
“Quentin?” Amber said.
He pulled her to him with one arm, keeping the dagger far away from her. It was much sharper than it looked and infused with an ancient and powerful curse. One slice could kill her. Or him, for that matter.
Despite his eyes, she rose onto her tiptoes, cupped his face, and pressed her mouth to his.
The kiss was magical. He drew power from it. Energy and warmth and light. Like the electric company, only hotter. Much, much hotter.
With a reluctance forfeited by urgency, he broke off the kiss, pressed his mouth to her ear, and whispered, “Run.”
Chapter Twelve
Of course, I have flaws,
but my boobs usually distract people from them.
—T-shirt
His bravery was staggering. Amber had never been more in love in her life. There simply weren’t many men in the world who would risk facing a demon just to save a few people. A few people he did not know and would never meet.
He wrapped a hand around the back of her head and pulled her close, his mouth warm at her ear as he whispered, “Run.”
She’d used the kiss as a distraction and grabbed some of the salt from his pocket. She put it into her jacket and nodded. “Sarah, come on.”
“There’s a back door,” she said, suddenly willing to cooperate if it meant saving her sociopathic ass.
“Hawaii,” Amber said since he was the only one left in the Tavern. “Time to go.”
He’d been paying attention. He folded the paper and followed them without question.
Sarah led them through the kitchen and toward the back, but Amber stopped. “You guys run. Hawaii—”
“Steve.”
“Steve, whatever you do, don’t follow Sarah.”
“You got it.” He hurried out the back exit, his flip-flops slapping the wood floor. Sun streamed in when he opened the door. Little man could run.
She turned to Sarah. “Go.”
“I thought…you have to protect me.”
“The only person who can protect you is in the dining area, and I’m not leaving him.”
Sarah grabbed a knife. “Yes, you are.”
“Really?” Amber asked. Sociopaths sucked.
When a thundering bang shook the building, Sarah gasped, her eyes wide with fear.
The cook stopped cleaning up and looked around.
“You need to leave,” Amber said to him.
Dora appeared, pointing toward the front. “It’s here, Madre de Dios.”
The cook looked around. “What the hell?”
“You need to leave,” Amber repeated.
“Come on, Sarah,” he said when another loud crash sounded. This time, chairs had been upended. The demon was not happy, and Quentin was in there with it. Alone.