7. Jamison

Make notes. Take inventory. All of it matters.

"I'm trying." Jamison's heavy feet rolled over the ground as her captors dragged her. The drugs were fast-acting, sweeping her to the edge of consciousness in seconds. "I'm trying, Liam."

"Liam's not here." Michael held her at his side as they made their way around the house and up the front walk to where an unfamiliar car was parked. "It's just you and me from now on."

Thunder cracked overhead, and the wind gained speed, whipping through the trees to rattle the old bones of the oaks. Her head hung loose on her shoulders, lobbing back and forth as the sense of something creeping up from behind took over—a presence lurking in the dark, watching and waiting in the brush.

Drowning in helpless terror, and her mind no longer holding a grip on reality, she cried out to whatever was out there. A cat? A ghost? God knows, Haven had plenty of both. "Help me!"

Lightning sliced low, striking the marshy swamp across the inlet. Michael paused to stare off at the shore in the distance—his gaze seeking the place held sacred by Zanmi. The very spot where Toby's sister had ended her life. CeCe Miller died during one of her brother's sick games, choosing to poison herself with a manchineel apple instead of meeting her end by his hand.

Using Michael's distraction to her advantage, she went dead in his arms, but his reflexes were quicker than expected. "Oh, no you don't." He adjusted his hold and continued to the car, where he shoved her inside. "Time to go."

Joining her in the back seat, Michael barked an order at the others, but a monstrous rumble of thunder drowned it out.

Bruce popped behind the wheel, and Ugly Denise took the front passenger seat, the walkie-talkie in her hand crackling to life once the car doors shut. "Cops ETA, four minutes. Contingency plan to initiate in two."

"Go," Denise snapped. "I have no interest in swimming in that God-forsaken bayou."

Hitting the gas, Bruce sent the car flying, and scooting low, Jamison slammed her feet on the back of Denise's seat. Weak from the drugs, the kick didn't do much except elicit a laugh from Michael.

"You're all fire inside, aren't you?"

"And I will burn you alive with it." Her words were slurred, only fueling the anger. "Promise."

The storm brewing over the inlet followed the car, and as the distance between them and Haven House grew, the more intense it became. A roar of wind encircled them, and, in her drug-addled mind, Jamison thought it sounded a bit like a lion, snarling and hungry.

Gravel from the driveway pelted the car's metal frame, knocking against the passenger side window until it shattered. Denise screamed, raising her arms so not to get a face full of glass.

"What the hell?" Bruce swatted at the glass, knocking it off him while continuing to careen toward the gates. "Did no one check the weather for tonight?"

Losing a little more control over her body, Jamison pitched to the side, but Michael caught her before she collapsed completely. The muffled shouts of Bruce and Denise dissolved into white noise, leaving her to sink further into her hazy brain.

Not long after breaking up with Liam, she had checked herself into a spa. The idea had been that a bit of pampering might ease the chasm of sorrow swallowing her from the inside out. It hadn't, and after a day of massages and facials, she decided to find solace in the hotel's empty indoor pool.

A mistake.

Floating on the surface of the water, the weight of her pain eventually dragged her down, bringing her to rest on the pool floor. She had lain there, mourning her loss. A life with Liam. A family with him. A home where they would grow old together. The endless years of hearing him crack his corny jokes that always made her laugh.

The pressure from the water and her sorrows had her thinking—for the tiniest of seconds—what if she just let go? Take a deep inhale and quite literally drown in her pain. She was a failure, so what was the point in continuing?

But the darkness didn't win. Even with Liam out of her life, she could never erase him completely from her head, and as his voice had screamed at her to break the surface that day, it was screaming now. Make notes. Take inventory. All of it matters.

Three people. Two men. One woman. Her mind ticked through their features. Denise's pockmarked cheeks. Bruce's buzzed haircut and meaty hands. The deep clef in Michael's chin and his single brown eye sitting in total contrast to his blue one.

It would all matter.

If she escaped.

The mini hurricane encompassing the car grew stronger, and Michael shouted for them to stop. Denise screamed and Bruce slammed on the brakes, sending the car spinning off the drive.

Up ahead, Haven's entry gates were closing, locking them in.

Jamison squinted, trying to see the security box through the blistering gale of wind and rain. No lights shone in the dark, and without electricity, it wouldn't be possible for the heavy wrought iron barrier to move on its own.

"It seems we've underestimated Mr. McIntyre." Curving an arm around her waist, Michael snapped open the door to pull her from the car. She held on to the seat, clawing at it until her nails broke off, but he was ten times stronger. "I think not, love."

Denise struggled to get out, shouting at the walkie-talkie she seemed to have a death grip on. "Contingency plan initiated."

Deadweight, Jamison sagged but didn't hit the ground before Michael scooped her up effortlessly to toss over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. The world flipped upside down, and he jogged through the storm with Bruce and Denise on his heels. "Let's move."

Lifting her head so she wouldn't vomit from being jostled, Jamison gasped when she saw the giant gates opening again and two white dots of light speeding parallel down the drive from the highway. Was it the police? Rowan?

She struggled to see but gave up quickly thanks to her depleting strength. Letting her head drop, Ty's rainbow garden rushed before her eyes, and the crunch of the fragile flowers beneath Michael's black boots told her they were taking her to the forest. If what she had seen was the police arriving and not some hallucination caused by the drugs, she hoped it was someone who had been here before. The forests of Haven House weren't easy to navigate, and someone could end up dead in one of the pits near the old mill if they weren't careful.

Thorny vines lashed at Michael's ankles, constricting tightly as if they were attempting to hinder his escape. Not to be outdone, thunder and wind rushed in with a hail of rain to join in on the attack, showering their bodies in a violent swirl of unrelenting air.

The earth made its move next, rumbling as it gave chase by manifesting cracks in the dirt that slithered in their wake. Teetering on the brink of sanity, Jamison laughed, the manic sound merging with the wrath of Haven House. "Run, run, run as fast as you can."

Michael paused to rip a vine from his leg. "Very cute."

Once loose, he hauled her onward, making it to the forest entrance in no time. Inside the canopy, a muted silence greeted them. The deafening emptiness a total contrast to the storm raging over the estate.

"I hate this place," Bruce muttered. "It gives me the creeps."

"Grow up." Out of breath from their run, Denise bent at the waist with her hands on her thighs. "Toby played here as a kid. It's fine."

Michael didn't wait, charging ahead as if he knew the way. At the fork, they had the choice to go left to the graveyard or right to the mill ruins stretching out over the point leading to the water.

He turned right, jogging toward the ruins, and Jamison dug her nails into the muscles of his back. "Watch out for pits."

"I know about the pits."

They were halfway down the trail when a sound shattered the bone-chilling silence—a yowling screech from deep in the forest. Stopping in the middle of the path, Michael spun around as Denise and Bruce caught up with them. "Something's out there."

Jamison rolled her eyes around, trying to see. Her vision was blurrier than before, but as far as she could tell there was nothing.

"It's fast." Michael spun again. "Running back and forth through the trees."

"Probably an animal." Denise continued walking. "We need to go."

Movement darted around them, close enough that the shift in the air tickled Jamison's skin, giving her goosebumps. Laying the flat of her palms on Michael's back, she arched up, not wanting to be caught off guard.

Just as startled, Bruce yanked Denise back. "Is that it?"

Michael went to the side of the path and lowered her to stand near a large cypress, his eyes never leaving the forest. "That's it."

"Yeah, not an animal." Bruce watched with him. "A person."

Denise shrugged off Bruce's grip to run ahead. "If it's a person, we can outrun them."

Neither man followed.

Pressing her back against the tree's trunk, Michael caged Jamison between his arms. "Give Denise ten paces," he said quietly over his shoulder to Bruce. "Let her be the one they nab."

"That's not a very family-friendly way of thinking," Jamison taunted. Zanmi referred to one another as family, each member carrying the moniker of brother or sister. "What kind of "brother" gives up his "sister" like that?"

Michael's attention returned, the evil glint in his mismatched eyes making her regret the question. "A smart one."

It was then the storm descended, entering with a grand explosion that had the trees above bowing their heads. Michael raised his arm, shielding himself and her from the bits and pieces of the forest flying their way.

Through the bellowing wind, Denise's screams carried through the woods. Risking a peek, Jamison craned her neck to look over Michael's shoulders.

Feet.

All her mind could register were the feet dangling from a dimmed light source hovering directly in front of Denise. As it advanced down the trail, the toes pointed downward to scrape the ground.

"What the fuck?" Bruce yelled seconds before an enormous tree branch smashed into his side and sent him hurtling at least ten feet away.

Stay low to the ground.

Jamison froze when the small voice whispered in her ear. Sweet and childlike with a hint of laughter, it spoke again, sending shivers down her spine.

Yes, I mean you, silly.

Positive the drugs were at fault, Jamison dropped to the ground anyway and cowered at the base of the tree.

Michael fell with her. "Can you see that?" he shouted over the storm's roar and Denise's screams. "Jamison, can you see that?"

The ball of light had Denise by the throat, claws protruding from it to strike deep. The cries for help ceased instantly, dissolving into gurgles of pain.

"I knew it," Michael exhaled while watching the gory scene play out. "I knew it."

Staggering to rise, Bruce ran over to help Denise, but it was too late. The light had released its grip, dropping her to the ground before shooting to the treetops where it broke apart. The storm left in its departure, bringing the quiet back to the forest.

Smiling up at the canopy, Michael forced her to stand. "I knew I wasn't crazy."

He's coming.

The child's warning shout came as the unmistakable sound of a gunshot whizzed past. Jamison dropped again, covering her head.

Falling on top of her, Michael ducked out of range. "Your boy is faster than I expected." Taking her face in his hands, he hissed when another shot rang out. "That means I have to leave you behind."

Before she knew what was happening, Michael's mouth seized hers. Jamison tried to fight him off, but all she succeeded in doing was dimming her senses more. The injection from Denise was free flowing through her system now, and using the little energy left meant she wouldn't stay awake much longer.

The dull ache of teeth biting into her bottom lip pushed through the numbness, and when the coppery taste of blood hit her tongue, she almost vomited.

Michael ended the kiss. "Now we're even." He grinned wildly, her blood staining his lips. "I'll be seeing you, Jamison Fairweather."

In the next blink, he was gone, dragging a thoroughly terrorized Bruce with him until they disappeared in the darkness of the western shore.

All alone, Jamison grasped the tree at her back, the bark cutting into her palms as she tried to rise. Denise lay still in the center of the trail, her eyes and mouth open. Blood oozed from the shredded remains of her neck, pumping like a heartbeat as it flowed over the pine straw and dirt.

Stay down!

The child's voice mixed with another. The new one held more of a growl, the power behind it capable of conjuring nightmares. Jamison covered her ears as the pair chanted together. Over and over, they repeated the warning.

Stay down!

More joined, a chorus of pleas and shouts.

Jamison

Get down.

Jamison, listen.

He can't see that it's you!

There were so many. The voices. They were coming from everywhere. The sky. The earth. The wind circling the trees. All in different variations and tones.

Unsteady on her feet, she swayed, searching to find the source. "Leave me alone!"

Girl, do as you're told for once.

Tiny pinpricks of awareness skated across her skin. That voice she knew.

"I'm scared, Ty." Disoriented and afraid, Jamison hit the ground, and curled into a ball as the world faded. "They drugged me, and I can't stay awake."

Ty didn't answer.

But someone else did.

Don't be scared, princess. Mama's here.