30. Camryn

THIRTY

CAMRYN

Vibrant orange hues paint the sky as the sun dips below the horizon, casting a warm glow behind the towering fir trees.

Gwen parks in front of the large iron gates to the old graveyard. A chain with a rusty padlock secures the old graves beyond. This place is popular with bored teenagers at night, who like to come here to drink and upturn old headstones.

My heart skips a beat at a crow's sudden, piercing caw.

Gwen tightens her grip on the wheel, her face drained of color. "What was that back there?" she asks quietly.

"I don't know."

"There was no one else there that day, was there? The day you killed Wilfred?"

"We didn't kill him."

"Was there anyone else there?"

I swallow. "No, there wasn't."

Gwen stares at me for a beat, eyes glassy with tears.

"But I think I saw someone in the window upstairs."

"What do you mean?"

"The curtains twitched when Dominic carried me out. I thought it was a trick of the imagination."

Gwen breaks eye contact, staring out the windshield at the imposing gates. "Now that person is dead."

"I swear I didn't know."

Lily shifts in the backseat.

The caw comes again, causing my heart rate to spike. I open the file and suppress a shiver as I glance at the photograph. Those dead eyes, rimmed in dark circles, peer into my soul.

"Let me see," Gwen says.

I hand her and Lily the photograph and the first few pages to look through.

"The girl could have done with chapstick," Gwen mutters, handing Lily the photograph and reading over the paperwork.

"Psychosis…shock treatment," I mumble, skimming the text.

"They kept her in a straitjacket toward the end because she wouldn't stop scratching," Lily reads. "Said worms crawled beneath her skin."

I look up from my paperwork and over my shoulder, nerves rippling through me.

Lily pales. "Oh, this is grisly." She hands me a picture and presses the back of her hand over her mouth as though she's smelled something bad.

I see why when I look at the photograph. Deep, infected lacerations decorate both of the woman's arms—so deep the sinew is visible.

"Fuck me," Gwen whispers, staring at it. "That's…disturbing."

"Tell me about it." I flick to the next paper in the file.

We read silently, exchanging the odd comment here or there until Gwen stiffens. She smacks my shoulder and says, "Look at this."

I place the file on my lap and accept the sheet she hands me. My heart pounds as I read.

"What is it?" Lily asks, popping her head through the gap.

"Miss. Kriger—Magdalene—claimed a demonic spirit was after her, trying to enter her body.

"The demon…" My voice comes out low and haunted.

"She spoke of visions, delusions."

"What I would like to know is…" Lily says, swallowing. "Why didn't it enter her?"

"She said it couldn't, and that's why it fixated on her."

"Is that what it says?" I ask, skimming the paper until I reach the part.

I can almost hear her voice in my ears.

It wants me.

What's it ?

The devil.

The devil wants you?

A demon. It's stuck.

Why does it want you, Miss Kriger?

Because it can't have me.

And why can't it have you?

I-I don't… It whispers...whispers, whispers, whispers. Itchy, itchy, itchy.

My hands tremble as the words blur, and a tear falls with a splat.

Did you have anything to do with your family's disappearance, Miss?

It entered them. It fed…it fed on their souls. I can't let it… I have to protect…

(Patient speaks incoherently, hissing and snapping their teeth.)

"It says here they subjected her to shock treatments." Lily's quiet voice breaks through my turmoil of emotions.

"I thought that was banned," Gwen says.

"Not back then, it wasn't." I sniffle, wiping the tears from my eyes. "Magdalene passed away eighteen months later after she threw herself down the stairs."

Gwen rubs my shoulder.

"She claimed it entered them and fed on their souls." I wipe away more tears with my sleeve. "Do you think she meant her father?"

"It would make sense. He invited the demon?—"

"And it killed his family," Lily finishes.

"You finally believe in the supernatural?" I ask.

Her big eyes lock on mine, and she chews on her thumbnail—an anxious trait—before finally saying, "Yes…it's the only thing that can explain what's happening."

I inhale a deep breath.

Everything is a mess.

"How do we defeat it?"

Gwen flips down the visor and reapplies her black lipstick. "It entered our plane once." She smacks her lips, inspecting the result before tossing the lipstick back into the center console. "We need to kick it the fuck out."

When we return, it's dark. The porch swing sways as a gentle breeze feathers through the overgrown grass.

I've been out all day and kept my phone switched off. I know even before I exit the car that Dominic will be beyond pissed.

I stare through the windshield at the house. The lights are out, but he's awake.

"I thought the house looked creepy in the day, but at night…" Gwen drifts off.

"Yeah," I agree, collecting my bag but leaving the file with Gwen. "It's a shithole."

"Want us to come in with you?"

I frown. "No, why?"

"In case he gives you shit."

A weak smile plays on my lips. Reaching for the door handle, I turn slightly over my shoulder. "I can handle him. See you tomorrow?"

"You bet on it. We need to research exorcisms."

"What if it can hear you?" Lily asks. "Should we discuss it…out loud."

"I think if it can hear us, it can also read our thoughts."

"Call me in the morning." I exit the car, shouldering my bag and hurrying up the steps. I quickly unlock the door and enter the dark house, shrugging off the urge to turn on all the lights.

Unease clings to me like a second skin as I walk upstairs to my bedroom.

After switching on the light, I pause when I see Dominic seated on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his thighs and his head cradled in his hands. Bruno is asleep behind him.

Dominic looks up.

I take in his haunted gaze, mussed-up hair, and creased clothing. I expected him to be angry and shout at me. What I didn't expect was the broken look in his eyes.

Sliding the bag off my shoulder, I toss it to the floor. Dominic watches me wearily. I walk closer, uncertain of myself—of us.

"Where have you been?" he asks, his voice raspy.

I draw to a halt. "I was out with the girls. We did some…research."

A muscle clenches in his jaw before he cuts eye contact to stare out the window. When he stays silent, my chest tightens. This isn't the Dominic I've come to expect.

"You turned off your phone," he says quietly, his voice hardening as he looks back at me. "I couldn't get ahold of you."

"I'm sorry?—"

"I didn't know if you were dead or alive."

I draw back when he rises to his full height, seeming larger than life with his broad, tense shoulders and hulking build. Dominic has always been intense, but the way his gaze sears me now has my heart racing and my knees weakening.

"But now I know you were fine." He walks up to me, and I hold my breath. He's close enough to touch, but for the first time, I'm ashamed and unable to meet his gaze. Nonetheless, his minty breath teases my face when he says, "You just didn't want to let me know you were okay."

He sidesteps me, his footsteps retreating. I look over my shoulder. "Would you have let me out of your sight?"

Coming to a halt in the doorway, he keeps his back to me, and I turn fully. I can see from here how tense he is, but he doesn't look at me, which hurts more than I want to admit.

"I care about you, Dominic. And it's because I care about you that I have to keep you safe. That's what I've tried to tell you ever since Brittany died, but you won't listen to me." When he remains silent, I blink back tears. "Please, say something."

His chin touches his shoulder, jaw twitching before spinning around and striding up to me. "Do you know the difference between you and me?"

I stay silent. Whatever he's about to say will cut me open. I know it will. I see it in his eyes.

"You say you care about me. Care… " He attempts a small smile, even as his throat jumps. He straightens up. "Meanwhile, I love you. Don't you get it? I love you! The word ‘care' doesn't exist in my fucking vocabulary. You're it for me."

My heart gallops at his admission, and I reach for him. He's it for me, too. I never thought I would hear Dominic say those words. Never thought he felt the same way.

He stumbles back another step, eyes flashing with hurt. "The thought of something happening to you eats me up from the inside. So when I don't hear from you, when there's a demon out there that wants to hurt you, yes…I lose my shit."

This time when he backs away, shame eats me up from the inside.

"But all along, you simply didn't want to reassure me that you were safe. You say you care, but you don't. You don't care about me. About us. Why the fuck am I wasting my time?"

"Dominic…" I try, chest tightening, but he turns around and walks out.

Soon after, the door to his room slams shut, and I hang my head. Why do I always mess everything up?

I hurry after him, trying his door handle, but it's locked. "Dominic?" I knock quickly. "I'm sorry, okay?"

I knock again, but it's radio silence on the other side. "Please… I was scared. Dom?"

Silence.

I blink back tears, wishing he would let me in so I could explain. I don't dare tell him that I love him. Not yet. Not while we're in danger. The thought of losing him cuts like a knife.

"Please let me in, Dom." I wait, but the door remains closed. Dominic is done with me. I could bang on his door all night, but it wouldn't make a difference. He won't listen to me until he has calmed down. At least, I hope he'll be willing to hear me out.

I bite back a sob and return to my room.

Once the door is closed, I sweep my eyes around the space. Dominic's scent lingers in the air. I stare at the bed, where he was seated when I arrived home. I already miss him.

Crawling into bed, fully clothed, I cuddle up with Bruno. My sheets still smell of Dominic—leather and citrus—and I breathe in his masculine, comforting scent as I drift off to sleep.