Page 30 of Wolf, Willow, Witch
The moment she broke away, everything went to hell. The person—thing, creature—on the other side of the door let out a shocking scream. The fingers that’d reached out from beneath the bottom of the door disappeared. Fists, feet, or shoulders smashed against the wood, jostling the lock. Knuckles rapped and pounded. A horrible wail filled the house.
“Let me out,” someone shouted. A girl, maybe. “Please, let me out—they’re making me do it, please,please—I’m Sophia!”
Tehlor couldn’t move. Her fear became something else. Terror, enlightenment.
We’re too late,she thought, miserably.Fuck, we’re too late.
“Sophia De’voreaux!” Her shrill voice careened through the hall. Fingernails scraped paint and wood. The doorknob rattled violently. Other sounds accompanied her voice—chirping birds, growling beasts, ocean waves. “They’re going to kill me;they’re going to kill us—”
“Tehlor!” Lincoln appeared—footsteps firm on the floor, hand a comforting weight on her elbow—and yanked her aside.
Silence, so abrupt, so unnatural, snapped into place. Sophia’s voice disappeared. Like a television had been unplugged. As if Tehlor had been pulled from one reality into another.
She swallowed, righting herself, and tucked Gunnhild into her coat pocket.
All those sounds, the shouting, banging, and crying were immediately replaced with eerie nothing. She stared at the door, flicking her attention from its center, then to the knob, and finally to the sliver at the bottom where a shadow crept back and forth.
“Get me out of here,” she said, so low she hadn’t realized she’d spoken. Her throat was scratchy and raw. She tasted iron.
“You werescreaming,” he hissed, tightening his hold on her arm. “What the hell were you thinking—”
She whipped toward him, eyes wide and unblinking. Her mouth pressed tightly, and she shook her head, unable to form a single thought exceptnoandwe’re doneandthis is not what we signed up for, this is not what I want.The thought was not her own, though. It was an intruder, flitting through her skull, unwelcome and alien.
“I wasn’t,” she snapped under her breath, then again, gaze locked with his. “I wasn’t.”
“Is everything okay?” Amy asked, appearing at the top of the stairs.
Lincoln eyed her carefully. His attention sharpened as if he’d realized something, as if heknew.
Tehlor peeked around him and tried to smile. “Yes, of course. Sorry, I got a little turned around.”
From behind the door, a weak voice, hushed and timid, snuck through.
“Help me,” Sophia whispered. “Please, please, please—”
“That’s enough,” Amy snapped, switching her attention to the bedroom. She turned to stone, expression hardening, eyes glazing over, hot with anger. Tehlor hadn’t thought she was capable of such fury. It was hatred. The barbed, wicked, practiced kind. Rage long in making.
Tehlor startled. Lincoln did, too, but he kept his composure and cleared his throat.
“Sorry,” Amy said, sighing through it. Her voice lightened and laughter chimed, porcelain in her mouth. “She’s a handful. C’mon, let’s get you two back downstairs.” She opened her arm, gesturing toward the staircase. Her smile split into a grin.
“Amy,” Tehlor deadpanned. Her practiced guise fell, and she furrowed her brow, waiting for the woman who’d puffed on a vape pen in the snow to appear again. You’re not completely delusional, are you?Tehlor clung to useless hope.There’s still a chance for you, right?“Is she okay?”
Amy tilted her head. Her grin dropped. “Of course,” she said, firmly, unwavering. “’I urge you, brothers and sisters, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God.’” She nodded slowly and stared at Tehlor. Her fingertips twitched, curling into a white-knuckled fist. “And with Adam’s rib, she was made, as I was, as you were. So, Sophia is being held in quiet contemplation before her ascendence at the revival. There’s nothing to be worried about, Tehlor. This is all predetermined, you know.” She made another insistent wave toward the stairs. “S’more time,” she chirped, shimmying her shoulders.
Muffled weeping erupted on the other side of the locked door.
Amy hushed the hidden girl. It was a sharp, violent sound, like a strong faucet or an abusive mother.
Tehlor walked forward, flanked by Lincoln, and tried not to flinch when Amy set her delicate hand between her shoulder blades, rubbing reassuringly.
Crazy fuckin’ Jesus freaks.She reached into her pocket and held onto Gunnhild. The rat stayed still, fuzzy nose twitching against her fingers.
Tehlor slowed on the staircase. Across the hall, the kitchen was crowded. She was met with the entire Haven cult waiting, silent and attentive. People stood shoulder to shoulder, watching her with an intensity she hadn’t known for many, many years. Impossible judgment. Scrutiny so fine-tuned she felt it in the soles of her feet and in her sweat-slicked palms. No one moved, no one spoke. Like soldiers, the congregation stood at the ready, devastatingly quiet.
For the first time that night, Tehlor felt Lincoln’s body clench, anxiety locking around each muscle.
Once they stepped into the hall, Amy moved aside, positioned between the parishioners and Tehlor. She smiled, waiting with the rest.
