My knife still in my hand, I held my position and waited, scanning the landscape again. One minute passed, then two, then three, and nothing moved or stirred.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was out here—maybe even the Dollmaker himself.
It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. If the killer had Elissa, then he had her purse, driver’s license, address, phone, everything. Maybe creeping around his victims’ houses and witnessing the anguish of their loved ones gave him another sick thrill. Maybe it was all part of his twisted ritual. Or maybe he was here for me, since he’d drawn my spider runes on his latest victim.
I didn’t know, but if the Dollmaker was here, I was going to end him. So I tightened my grip on my knife and waited—just waited. All he had to do was move one fucking inch, make one more fucking sound, and he’d be mine.
But nothing happened.
No movement, no noises, nothing.
After about five minutes, even that creepy feeling of being watched faded away. If the Dollmaker—or anyone else—had been here, he was gone now, and I was all alone. I scanned the yard one more time, but it was as cold and empty as before, so I finally admitted defeat, went back inside the house, and locked the kitchen door behind me.
• • •
I spent the next several minutes cleaning up the broken glass and liquid from Jade’s dropped drink. I also lined up all the kitchen chairs in a row in front of the glass doors, creating a crude barricade. The whole time, I kept one eye on the backyard, but it remained as empty as before.
Once that was done, there was nothing more I could do tonight, so I curled up on a couch in the den, which was located off the kitchen, and slid one of my knives under my pillow. If the Dollmaker or anyone else tried to break into Jade’s house again tonight, I would hear him and respond accordingly.
I grabbed a fleece blanket from the back of the couch, covered myself up with it, and settled down to get some sleep. Even though it had been a long, long day with all sorts of emotional ups and downs, I still had trouble falling asleep. The image of those blood-red spider runes loomed in my mind, making me toss and turn.
Eventually, my exhaustion caught up with me, the same way it had caught up with Jade, and I fell asleep. Although sometime after that, the blackness receded, and I found myself in the land of dreams, memories, and nightmares from my past . . .
My world was on fire.
My childhood home was fully ablaze, the flames streaking up into the night sky like rockets being fired one after another. Ash fluttered like confetti spraying everywhere, and the acrid stench of smoke overpowered everything, even the stench of my own charred flesh. Even though I was in the woods, fifty feet away from the mansion, I could still feel the intense, searing heat from the flames.
Not just regular flames—elemental Fire.
The same Fire that had engulfed my mom. That had consumed Annabella. That had been used to torture me. I could still feel the foreign magic burning inside my own skin, a constant, throbbing, intense agony that seemed like it would never, ever stop.
Despite the sweat soaking my body, I still shivered. I would have wrapped my arms around myself to ward off the chill, if it wouldn’t have made my hands hurt more than they already did. But I couldn’t stop myself from unwrapping one of the crude bandages from around my palm. I held my shaking hand up to the flickering light, knowing and dreading what I would see.
The mark, the wound, the burn was the same as before—a small circle with eight thin rays. Half of my spider rune pendant, superheated and melted into my flesh. Even though it was made of silverstone, just like my necklace had been, the mark was a vivid blood-red. The pain of it blazed as harsh and bright as my house, and the sensation made me just as sick. I quickly wrapped the bandage back around my hand, hiding the rune from sight.
I couldn’t stand to look at it right now. I just couldn’t stand it.
I’d staggered away from our house ten minutes ago and had been standing in the woods ever since, aimlessly wandering up and down along the tree line, unable to tear my eyes away from the sight of the ruined, rocky rubble of the Snow family mansion. But the flames were only part of the damage. I’d caused the rest when I’d used my Ice and Stone magic to collapse the structure, in a last-ditch effort to save Bria from the Fire elemental and her men who had stormed into our home.
But I’d collapsed all of that stone, wood, and glass right on top of my baby sister, crushing her to death.
That horrible knowledge pushed me over the edge. I bent over double and heaved and heaved, until my stomach was as empty as my heart. After several minutes, I straightened up and wiped my mouth off on one of my makeshift bandages, ripped from the bottom of my nightgown. I knew that I should leave, walk, get away from the mansion, but I couldn’t make my legs move. I couldn’t do anything but stare at the destruction, destruction that I was more than a little responsible for—
“What did you do?” a loud, harsh male voice demanded. “What did you do?”
I blinked, wondering if I’d only imagined the booming voice. But then, a second later, a low, satisfied laugh rang out, floating through the trees right along with all the ash.
“You know exactly what I did, Hugh,” a lighter feminine voice said. “I killed Eira. Finally, finally killed her. Just like the others wanted. Just like I wanted.”
I froze. I recognized that soft, silky, sinister tone. It belonged to the Fire elemental who had killed my mom and Annabella and tortured me with her terrible magic. I’d thought—hoped—that she was dead, crushed by the falling rubble. The sound of her smug, satisfied voice made a fresh wave of heat spike through my burns, reminding me just how much I had lost tonight. I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming from the pain, both in my hands and especially in my heart.
“You killed Eira?” Hugh’s voice rang out, harsher than before. “You actually killed her?”
“Oh, yes,” the elemental purred again. “No doubt about it. She never had a chance against my Fire magic. I got one of her little brats too.”
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was out here—maybe even the Dollmaker himself.
It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. If the killer had Elissa, then he had her purse, driver’s license, address, phone, everything. Maybe creeping around his victims’ houses and witnessing the anguish of their loved ones gave him another sick thrill. Maybe it was all part of his twisted ritual. Or maybe he was here for me, since he’d drawn my spider runes on his latest victim.
I didn’t know, but if the Dollmaker was here, I was going to end him. So I tightened my grip on my knife and waited—just waited. All he had to do was move one fucking inch, make one more fucking sound, and he’d be mine.
But nothing happened.
No movement, no noises, nothing.
After about five minutes, even that creepy feeling of being watched faded away. If the Dollmaker—or anyone else—had been here, he was gone now, and I was all alone. I scanned the yard one more time, but it was as cold and empty as before, so I finally admitted defeat, went back inside the house, and locked the kitchen door behind me.
• • •
I spent the next several minutes cleaning up the broken glass and liquid from Jade’s dropped drink. I also lined up all the kitchen chairs in a row in front of the glass doors, creating a crude barricade. The whole time, I kept one eye on the backyard, but it remained as empty as before.
Once that was done, there was nothing more I could do tonight, so I curled up on a couch in the den, which was located off the kitchen, and slid one of my knives under my pillow. If the Dollmaker or anyone else tried to break into Jade’s house again tonight, I would hear him and respond accordingly.
I grabbed a fleece blanket from the back of the couch, covered myself up with it, and settled down to get some sleep. Even though it had been a long, long day with all sorts of emotional ups and downs, I still had trouble falling asleep. The image of those blood-red spider runes loomed in my mind, making me toss and turn.
Eventually, my exhaustion caught up with me, the same way it had caught up with Jade, and I fell asleep. Although sometime after that, the blackness receded, and I found myself in the land of dreams, memories, and nightmares from my past . . .
My world was on fire.
My childhood home was fully ablaze, the flames streaking up into the night sky like rockets being fired one after another. Ash fluttered like confetti spraying everywhere, and the acrid stench of smoke overpowered everything, even the stench of my own charred flesh. Even though I was in the woods, fifty feet away from the mansion, I could still feel the intense, searing heat from the flames.
Not just regular flames—elemental Fire.
The same Fire that had engulfed my mom. That had consumed Annabella. That had been used to torture me. I could still feel the foreign magic burning inside my own skin, a constant, throbbing, intense agony that seemed like it would never, ever stop.
Despite the sweat soaking my body, I still shivered. I would have wrapped my arms around myself to ward off the chill, if it wouldn’t have made my hands hurt more than they already did. But I couldn’t stop myself from unwrapping one of the crude bandages from around my palm. I held my shaking hand up to the flickering light, knowing and dreading what I would see.
The mark, the wound, the burn was the same as before—a small circle with eight thin rays. Half of my spider rune pendant, superheated and melted into my flesh. Even though it was made of silverstone, just like my necklace had been, the mark was a vivid blood-red. The pain of it blazed as harsh and bright as my house, and the sensation made me just as sick. I quickly wrapped the bandage back around my hand, hiding the rune from sight.
I couldn’t stand to look at it right now. I just couldn’t stand it.
I’d staggered away from our house ten minutes ago and had been standing in the woods ever since, aimlessly wandering up and down along the tree line, unable to tear my eyes away from the sight of the ruined, rocky rubble of the Snow family mansion. But the flames were only part of the damage. I’d caused the rest when I’d used my Ice and Stone magic to collapse the structure, in a last-ditch effort to save Bria from the Fire elemental and her men who had stormed into our home.
But I’d collapsed all of that stone, wood, and glass right on top of my baby sister, crushing her to death.
That horrible knowledge pushed me over the edge. I bent over double and heaved and heaved, until my stomach was as empty as my heart. After several minutes, I straightened up and wiped my mouth off on one of my makeshift bandages, ripped from the bottom of my nightgown. I knew that I should leave, walk, get away from the mansion, but I couldn’t make my legs move. I couldn’t do anything but stare at the destruction, destruction that I was more than a little responsible for—
“What did you do?” a loud, harsh male voice demanded. “What did you do?”
I blinked, wondering if I’d only imagined the booming voice. But then, a second later, a low, satisfied laugh rang out, floating through the trees right along with all the ash.
“You know exactly what I did, Hugh,” a lighter feminine voice said. “I killed Eira. Finally, finally killed her. Just like the others wanted. Just like I wanted.”
I froze. I recognized that soft, silky, sinister tone. It belonged to the Fire elemental who had killed my mom and Annabella and tortured me with her terrible magic. I’d thought—hoped—that she was dead, crushed by the falling rubble. The sound of her smug, satisfied voice made a fresh wave of heat spike through my burns, reminding me just how much I had lost tonight. I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming from the pain, both in my hands and especially in my heart.
“You killed Eira?” Hugh’s voice rang out, harsher than before. “You actually killed her?”
“Oh, yes,” the elemental purred again. “No doubt about it. She never had a chance against my Fire magic. I got one of her little brats too.”
