Page 44 of Lost in the Dark

“You got it. Let me know if you need anything else, okay?” she says.

This is why Oaklyn is my best friend. She doesn’t ask a ton of questions and she’s always willing to help. I’m confident that Queen of Tarts is in good hands while I deal with the mess my life has become.

Now that that’s handled, I have to figure out how to get to the lake. Normally, I’d just take my bike, but what if Evan knows where I live? What if he’s watching me? Do I take the chance? I can’t have him following me, and I need to get out of here right now, before he shows up.

I know he’s taking his time, stalking me, letting that picture build fear in me.

Still, he won’t wait forever.

I take a deep breath and turn my phone off to prevent tracking, then hurry outside to my V Star. I think it’s my best chance—I can’t get a ride from someone, because I don’t want anyone to know where I am. I take the most circuitous route I can think of to the lake, making sure that no one is following me. Once I’ve decided it’s safe, I make my way to the dilapidated cabins that used to be Lake Eerie’s preeminent lakeside resort.

I don’t know who technically owns this place, but the resort has been closed for the past few years, so nobody ever comes out here. I pick the cabin closest to the forest and hide my bike in the back, concealed by foliage. Then, with a wince, I break one of the back windows and sneak in.

The old rental is still furnished with kitschy lakeside décor, including ancient board games, sporting equipment, and vintage oil paintings of ducks. While the idea of sleeping in the grotty old bed here doesn’t thrill me, it’s better than getting my throat slit by Evan. So I’ll find a way to make the best of it.

I spend the rest of the day pacing around, a bundle of nerves who is startled by every noise—the chirping of birds, the rustling of squirrels, the splashing of fish. Who knew nature was so freakingloud?

I have no real plan, other than to avoid Evan at all costs. But I can’t just stay here forever, so what do I do? I doubt the police could help me at this stage, since one anonymous text isn’t a crime and doesn’t even connect back to him.

When it finally gets dark out, I climb under the old quilt in the back bedroom and curl into a ball. I’m sure it won’t be long before Evan is haunting me in my dreams.

CALLISTER

“Lord Callister? Are you well?”

I glance up to see Shackle, a lesser nightmare demon and royal steward, standing at the foot of my throne.

“What?” I ask. My mind has been wandering of late, and it seems Shackle has noticed.

He bows. “I merely wondered if you were well, sire. There are demons waiting for an audience with you. To give the monthly report on their successes and failures.”

I frown. “I’m fine, and I’ll deal with them later. Carry on with your business.”

Truth be told, I’m feeling distracted. Unmoored. Unsatisfied with my usual job. Normally, I enjoy exploring new places, new minds, seeking out fears and exploiting them through nightmares. And I enjoy checking in with my minions, finding out what sorts of fears they’re spreading in the dreams of humans.

But now that I’ve found Libra, she’s all I can think about, and I don’t know why. Yes, she’s special for a human, but in the end, she’s stilljusta human. She has dark hair, eyes like melted chocolate, and the kind of lips other women pay to have. Intriguing tattoos decorate her fingers. But many human women are physically attractive. That alone doesn’t make her special. She’s beautiful, alluring, but a mere mortal all the same.

So why am I so captivated by her?

Why is her fear so much better than any other I’ve ever encountered?

How do I keep her for myself, so I can taste her forever?

I wait impatiently until night falls in Haven’s Hollow, then travel through dreams until I reach her tiny apartment. But it’s empty and still, her bed neatly made. Wherever Libra may be sleeping, it isn’t here.

Well, well. She might be gone, but she can’t escape me that easily. I lick the air, searching for her unique, alluring flavor. Most fear has a slight metallic tang, but hers is warm and sweet—what I imagine sun-ripened oranges might taste like. No matter where she hides, I can find her.

I jump into the dream of the nearest sleeper and start searching, leapfrogging from one mind to the next as I follow the flavor of Libra’s fear. It doesn’t take long before I find her, at the lake of all places, and I fade into the background to watch her latest nightmare.

In it, she’s once again much younger than she is now, and is sitting on a couch next to the same dark-haired man. Her body language is closed off and tense, but the man seems relaxed, sprawled out and comfortable. There’s a clear power dynamic at play and he’s in control. Again.

“Come on, baby. It’s just a little favor. I’ll give you a present when you get back.”

“A present?”

He grins. “Your choice of any one thing in my inventory.”

She chews her lip and gives a little shrug. “Evan, please. I don’t want to. Can’t somebody else go?”

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