“Stop looking at me,” I said, facing forward. “I’m coming, and you’re not stopping me.”
I knew he was worried about the mess he’d gotten me into, but he was forgetting that this was all my mess, too. I didn’t run anymore.
We pulled into Coldfield, the place swelling with a crowd, the explosion down on Old Pointe Road drawing people out of their houses instead of back in. Will didn’t even bother looking for a parking spot. He pulled up behind two cars, blocking them in, and shut off the engine.
Another SUV pulled up behind us, and everyone climbed out of both cars.
Will and I walked to the rear of the vehicle and pulled open the hatchback. He dug in a duffle bag, handing everyone their mask, but no one put them on yet, simply hooking them onto their belts.
Misha and Ryen jogged up, dressed in street clothes and ready to rock.
Will narrowed his eyes at his cousin, pausing. “What are you doing?”
But Misha just reached down, pulling out a black mask with a blue stripe. “This belong to anybody?”
Will dropped his eyes. “You don’t have to be here, man. You don’t have to be involved.”
Misha stared at him. “Yes, I do.”
He strapped his mask onto his belt and dug back into the bag, pulling out a white one for Ryen.
Will gazed between them, a smile slowly forming at his cousin diving into the fray with us. “And my wolfpack, it grew,” he said, choking on fake tears, “it grew by two.”
“Shut up,” Ryen told him.
Misha snorted, all three of them grinning ear to ear at The Hangover reference.
Misha and Ryen stepped away, and I didn’t know much about them, but I knew Misha wasn’t a Horseman and he wasn’t the typical Thunder Bay rich boy. Will was family, though, and he was here for family.
Will grabbed one more mask out of the bag, a yellow one with blood around the mouth and eyes.
“They could be distracting us,” Micah told him. “Drawing us out there, so they can destroy the town while we’re running around in circles.”
“They have nothing to gain,” Will told him. “Their beef is with us. They want to confront us. They’re not going to make it hard for us to find them.”
Then he held the mask out to me.
“Real monsters don’t wear masks,” I teased.
He shrugged. “Real monsters might not care about being identified, either. No mask, no fun for you.”
Aw, my man. Layin’ down the law. God, it turned me on.
I reached in and pulled out a black one to match his white one instead, both with a thick red stripe down the left side.
“I like this one,” I said.
He smiled and pulled his out, closing the back hatch and locking the car.
“Martin could be there,” he told me as all of us walked into Coldfield so we could sneak into the Cove undetected.
“Or he could not,” I pointed out.
But he shook his head, leading the way through the crowd. “Somehow I don’t think we’re lucky enough that all of this isn’t connected, Emory.”
Connected…
I slowed, thinking about Martin, Evans Crist, Aydin...
Who put Will in Blackchurch? We still didn’t know. Who had something to gain?
Aydin and Taylor had been in town two days. Why wait so long to make their presence known? What were they doing?
Like Micah and Rory, Aydin, Taylor, and their families would be useful allies to someone.
Evans knew Will had escaped, and now…
My chest caved. Evans put Will in Blackchurch.
Evans was connected to Martin.
It had been two days.
Two days.
I tipped my eyes up, looking around us, my face drifting from mask to mask to mask inside the haunted park.
Plenty of time to plan…
Shit.
“Wait,” I called out, and then turned my head and raised my voice as everyone continued to drift ahead. “Wait!”
Everyone spun around and stared at me, and I rushed for them as Will rushed back to me.
“They’ve been here for two days,” I said, everyone crowding around us. “Two days. What have they been doing? Taking in the sights?”
“They’ve been getting ready,” Michael guessed.
“No,” I told him, glancing around again for danger. “They’re not alone.”
Everyone gaped at me.
“They didn’t come here without help,” I clarified in a louder voice.
Blackchurch’s caretakers would’ve sent them home or to another facility. They escaped and got here fast with someone’s help.
A still figure caught my eye, and I did a double take, seeing him standing in the crowd and staring right at me as people bustled around him in a blur.
My whole body turned hot.
He wore a mask—a devil painted black—and I watched him as he watched me, my heart echoing in my ears.
Coldfield continued to rage like a party around us, people running, screaming, and laughing as “Highly Suspicious” played over the sound system.
“Their parents?” Rory threw the idea out there, and Micah shaking his head, not knowing.
But I answered for him. “No.”
“What are you saying?” Alex asked, stepping in.
I looked to Will. “It’s all connected. Evans Crist solicited Martin’s help to cripple your parents by sending you all to prison, but he didn’t anticipate that you’d get organized on your own when you got out. In time, you became a threat he needed to deal with, too.”
“My father may have done shit,” Michael chimed in, “for which he will pay, but he’s been quiet for years.”
“But mobile,” I retorted. “What if he sent Will to Blackchurch to cripple you like he did to your parents all those years ago?” I looked around at all the guys. “You haven’t moved forward with the resort in Will’s absence, after all. It worked.”
I shot my gaze to the right, seeing the figure again.
Or someone who looked exactly like him. He was also dressed in the same black jacket and black devil mask with the hood pulled up.
I darted my gaze back to the other one, noticing he still stood in the exact same spot. They were both staring at me.
“What if he knew the moment Will was broken out?” I asked Michael. “What if he enlisted the remaining prisoners and their families and had them brought here? What if Aydin and Taylor have been sleeping right down the road this whole time at your parents’ house?”
No one spoke, the wheels turning in their heads as they exchanged looks. As they came to terms with the possibility that Aydin could win tonight.
“Aydin engages in nothing until he’s sure he can win,” Alex said in a quiet voice. “She’s right. He’s not alone.”
I stepped in closer, our circle tightening. “They were probably at the wedding,” I said, gesturing with my eyes to the crowd. “They’ve been following us the whole time.”
I slid my eyes to the left, seeing another one. And then another one.
Slowly, the devils were all around us, slipping through the unknowing crowd and surrounding us like an army, and our crew averted their eyes, awareness finally written all over their faces that we were already caught.
“The masks,” I murmured. “The devils. It’s how their crew is identifying each other.”