Chapter 16

Evil

The air is crisp as nightfall descends over Ironwood Springs, but the coolness of the breeze does little to quell the knot in my stomach as I approach the compound.

It's a good mile and a half hike from where I park my truck to the shanty mansion they call Nightshade. I wear the same black clothes, same black ski mask each time I come out, save for the sacred ceremonies where I don a red hood. There might be a cast of hundreds here on the grounds, but not one of them knows who I am, with the exception of Malcolm. He eventually admitted that he outed me to his wife, but as an odd courtesy, she never acknowledged the fact. I allowed them to live so long as I was their new master. And I am in every way.

Nightshade is dimly lit on the inside and I make my way through the kitchen and to the basement, my ski mask still securely in place.

"In here," a voice calls out and I turn toward the grand room we've come to hold our meetings in. No windows, one door, it all but assures us the privacy we need.

Malcolm and Patty are seated at the sturdy oak table that I'm pretty sure he inherited with this place. I take a seat across from them and nod.

"What's happening?" I received a call a couple of hours ago and Malcolm sounded panicked, saying we needed to talk.

Malcolm looks pallid and sweaty, his skin the color of clay. Patty seems much more reserved and calmer as if whatever they have to discuss doesn't concern her.

"A couple came by today." Malcolm nods as if I should be picking up on where he's headed next.

"A lady and a man." Patty lays it out for me as if I were an idiot and I must be to deal with them.

"What did they want?" My mind flits right to the razor wire. It's an eyesore. I told them to take it down months ago and it's still there. A blotch of horror over the pristine landscape. Someone obviously agrees with me.

Malcolm leans forward on his elbows as far as the table will allow. "They were cops. They had a picture of Emily." He shakes his head my way. "Looked like it was taken a few years back. They said they were looking into a homicide."

"Someone killed her," Patty says hesitantly as if this were news to any of us. "They said they found her body in the creek and her head in Cheyenne." She gives an indecisive nod as if wanting me to admit to it.

"I didn't do it," I say. "At least I didn't dismember her. Maybe some kids found her. There's a biker gang that makes its home on the other side of Ironwood. Maybe one of their drunks got her and took her head for a ride." It wouldn't surprise me. After all the dark things that I've seen and done, nothing surprises me anymore.

"Told you," Malcolm growls at his wife. "We've got witches in the hills, real deal Satanists. It could have been anyone."

"The list of probabilities is a mile long," I say, trying my best to soothe them. "What did these cops look like? Was it the sheriff?"

Malcolm slices me a glance. "I don't think so. The man was tall, fit, and wore a fancy suit. He had dark hair and looked like he was mapping the place with his eyes. The woman was a pretty redhead."

Patty clears her throat and Malcolm inches back like an abused husband that's been beaten one too many times.

A smile curves briefly on my lips. "It didn't take long for them to come sniffing around, did it? Finding a body is enough to invoke the sheriff's office, but you take the head across state lines and you may as well pen an invite to the feds. Now where's Grady?"

Malcolm and Patty exchange another look.

"Come now," I say. "Grady and Emily were inseparable. This was a cry for help. If you can't see it, then you're dumber than you look."

"Emily was trying to leave," Patty hisses. "She had to be dealt with. And there are others, too. Her friends were plotting an escape as well. But don't worry. We caught them just in time."

Malcolm nods. "We had an informant come forward."

"Who?"

"Jennifer, the pretty one with light eyes." He nods my way. "She was one of the girls from the enlightenment ceremony last month."

"That's right." Patty cocks her head my way. "You seemed to take a special liking to her."

"Don't remember. No offense, they all look the same to me." Especially in the dead of night with a hood covering my face. "Do you have the situation contained?"

"We've got one in the hole and one out back with Archer." Patty sheds a hint of a smile and I know for a fact that was her doing. "He's making a honeymoon out of it."

"Good," I say, far from satisfied. "I want to speak with the one in the hole."

They exchange a glance before Malcolm leads the way. I pull the red hood out of my back pocket and cover my head with it. The ski mask might throw her. But the red hood will alert her immediately as to who she's dealing with.

We make it to the end of the hall and Malcolm gives a soft knock before picking up a lantern off the floor and igniting it. I bought dozens of them and swapped each bulb out for a red one myself. The color of blood and danger, and now the color of my presence as well.

The hall floods with the crimson illumination and we head into the room.

It's a cell essentially. A jury-rigged contraption that Malcolm and his men built to contain members who needed a little refresher on what it means to stay loyal to his tribe. There are sixteen of these cells down here, each in their own speck of a room. No windows, no facilities, and no access to food or water. Just a bucket in the corner which would explain the stench. Patty is in charge of feeding them. And on occasion, she likes to beat them, too.

A small shriek emits from the girl as she attempts to shield her eyes.

"I can't see. It hurts to look," she calls out.

Other than the red light they're bathed in on occasion, these prisoners are kept in complete darkness day or night.

"What's your side of the story?" I ask and she juts her head in my direction, still unable to focus. "I heard you wanted to run."

"I did." She whimpers. "We were going to leave. We're sorry. We won't do it again."

"Who's we?" I ask.

"Trish," she offers her friend's name without hesitation. "Malcolm took her to the shack out back. Please, you have to let her go. I'll take her place. I don't want her to suffer like that. I don't want her to suffer like Jennifer. Please, I'll do anything." Her fingers slip through the cage as she does her best to rattle it.

"How did Jennifer know you were leaving?" I ask.

"She overheard," Malcolm whispers.

"She was leaving with us," the girl says with a ragged sigh. "We were going to take our kids and run in the night. I don't care what you do to that two-faced witch. I just want Trish to be safe."

Malcolm shakes his head as if he doesn't believe her. "She's just angry."

"I'll be the judge of that." I sigh toward the girl. "Have one of my men meet me out back. I want Jennifer brought to me, as well as Grady. I'll meet you out there once I'm through," I say as I take the lantern from him and he scrambles out of the room.

"Please," the girl calls out. "You have to help me. I'll prove that I'm fully devoted. Just get Trish out of there right now. I'll do anything for you."

"Let's start there, sweetheart." I close the door to the room behind me as I let myself into her cell.

And I let her prove exactly how far she's willing to go.

About a half hour later,I head upstairs and make my way to the back where I find Keith, one of my men, with a banged up looking woman next to him. Her face is purple, and her lips are swollen on one side. My heart thumps unnaturally at the sight of her. And to think, I'm told I don't have one that beats.

Malcolm steps out of the shadow along with Grady, and I shake my head at the man. I don't need a roadmap. I knew he had it out for me the second I took Emily at the sacrifice. Whenever I have an inkling that a couple is getting too attached, I do just that to teach them both a lesson.

"That will be all," I say to Malcolm. "Keith and I can take it from here."

Malcolm trots back into the house like the coward he is and Keith and I take a walk with Grady and the girl in silence until we're deep into the woods with nothing but a sliver of the moon to light the way.

"So you're going to kill me?" Grady's voice wavers, but it's not from tears. I can sense the rage in him.

Keith is brainwashed through and through. He's my go-to man when it comes to taking care of the dead, and he's scattered more than a few bodies in the vicinity for me. And he puts them exactly where I tell him to. But he's friends with Grady. My guess is that's how Grady got ahold of the body. Keith must have either taken him right to her or told him where to find her.

Grady is a chef, but he used to be a forager. He still has enough access to the vans. A van can take you all the way up to Cheyenne if you wanted.

"No, I'm not going to kill you," I say, pulling my hunting knife out of its sheath. "You're going to do the killing tonight."

"What?" He takes a stumbling step back, and for a second I'm convinced he'll try to run. But he knows better. These woods are rigged every which way with an entire land mine of animal traps, but they work for humans even better.

"You heard me." I hand him the knife. "Make it quick. I don't want to see her suffer."

"No," the girl shrieks and tries to run, but Keith gathers her in his arms and clamps a hand over her mouth.

"Do it now," I thunder at Grady. "It's your last chance to prove your loyalty to me. I know what you've done."

His eyes latch to mine.

If he's smart, he's thinking one of two things—that he'll be dead if he doesn't. Or that if he does do the deed, it'll buy him time to plot his own escape. Frankly, I'm shocked he's still here. But Emily had a kid. He probably thinks it's his.

He takes the knife from me and his eyes gloss over as he looks at the girl.

"I'm sorry," he says before he slashes a quick line across her throat, deep and lethal. It took both muscle and determination, and he grunts as he tosses the knife to the ground at my feet.

"Good," I say as Keith drops the body and picks up the knife. "Now finish the job," I tell him.

Grady turns to run, but I trip him with my foot, and soon Keith is on him, slashing his throat as well.

"Clean it up," I say. "You'll get your reward. You always do."

I walk right out of the woods as if it never happened.

It all feels like a bad dream anyway.