Page 1 of Deadly Sacrifice

1

Prudence

Three Years Ago

“Where are we going?” I mumble as my eyes sweep over the busy city streets. There’s a growing knot in my stomach, equal parts excitement and dread. Mom seems to be having a good day — she woke me up early with a bright smile and her green eyes full of life for once — but something still feels… off.

When she doesn’t answer, I turn my attention away from the window and toward her. My mom’s chestnut hair is washed and brushed, half of it clipped back to keep the curly strands off of her face. Her expression is calm, a small smile gracing her lips. But it’s an act. Her hands are white-knuckling the steering wheel and she keeps shooting her eyes around like she’s expecting someone to be following us.

Reaching forward, I hit the off button on the radio, plunging us into a tense silence. “Mom?” I hedge, watching her carefully. “I have school tomorrow… I can’t keep missing. I know you like to take adventures with me but—“

She cuts me a quick glance as she puts a soft hand on my knee. “This is important, baby. They called and told me where to meet them. You’ll see,” she says distractedly as she switches lanes on the freeway without a proper glance. The car we almost hit slams on their brakes and blares the horn, but it’s as if Mom doesn’t notice.

On instinct, I grab the ‘oh shit’ handle above my head, fighting against the urge to shut my eyes and pretend I’m not in this car. I guess it’s not a good day for her... “Who called? Where are we—“

“Did you drink your coffee? I left it out for you, did you see? On the counter.”

My eyes roll all on their own. We’ve had this discussion countless times, but here we go again. “No, Mom. I didn’t drink the coffee you left out. You can keep filling up a mug for me, and I’ll keep ignoring it. It’s becoming such an exciting game between us,” I drawl.

“Prudence Cate,” she grits out, crossing over two lanes at once to get to the right off-ramp. No blinker, no peek at the mirrors, she just goes for it, balls to the fucking wall. If I make it back home in one piece, I’ll be shocked. We get off the freeway, drive down a block, and get right back on.

“A cup of coffee every morning opens your mind. You know this! You wouldn’t be so worried right now if you drank it. You’d have heard them calling too. Then we could be excited about this together,” she tells me with a giddiness to her voice.

Ah. So them, meaning the voices. For once, I thought maybe… Maybe we could have a normal day. Mom got me out of bed, put together for the first time in a while, and I thought maybe this new medication was helping.

Obviously not.

Without responding, I lean down to fish my phone out of my purse on the floor. I have her psychiatrist’s number saved at this point. For days like today. Before I can find it, though, the car jerks and my shoulder smacks into the door, my head barely missing the dash. I lean up, eyes wide as I try to catch my breath.

“What was that?” I breathe out, trying to stop my hands from shaking.

“Nothing to worry about, baby,” Mom promises, smiling as she flicks the music on again and starts humming along.

Turning around, I scan the road behind us, checking to make sure we didn’t nearly hit someone or cause any accidents. God, what was I thinking getting into this car?

“Hey, actually, maybe you could pull over and let me drive? I need to practice for my test. They won’t reschedule me again, and it’s coming up,” I explain casually, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans.

Mom laughs, shaking her head affectionately. “Any other time, baby, and I would. But we’re already late. We won’t make it to the meeting in time if I pull over.” She swerves again, veering into the next lane before hastily correcting the car. All the while, she’s smiling easily, like she’s having the best day.

Think, Prudence, think for fuck’s sake. I drop my gaze to my purse on the floor, calculating the risks of reaching down for my phone again. With the way Mom’s driving, I’m not sure I’m willing to let go of my death grip on the door handle, though.

“What’s the meeting for?” I croak as we swerve again, each time more violently than the last. Would it be better for me to close my eyes and know nothing, or is it best to keep them open and see the inevitable accident coming?

My mom turns to look at me, eyes alight with emotion. “The Stars. They finally called, after all these years.” She throws her head back with a manic laugh. “The Stars under the Black Woods. The Greeks are Latin, Prudence. I knew it. They’ve agreed to meet, to fix the wrongs they did. We just have to listen to them.”

I whimper as we side-swipe another car, my heart pounding so hard in my chest that it’s physically painful. My eyes are blurring with tears as I squeak out, “Please, stop. I don’t want to meet anyone. Just stop the car, Mom.”

She shoots me an incredulous look, pressing down harder on the gas pedal. “Absolutely not. They did this to me, baby. All those years ago. The Stars under the Black Woods… They found me and they broke something in here,” she rattles, pressing a finger to her temple. “They gave me you, my sweet Prudence Cate, but they took me from you, too, you see? But now? They’ll fix it all. You just wait.”

This isn’t the first time I’m hearing about The Stars, but like always, nothing makes sense. I’ve learned that the best way to deal with Mom during these episodes is to be patient and calm, but it’s pretty fucking hard when we’re speeding down the freeway, swerving all over the lanes. I take the risk, reaching down in a rush to grab my phone out of my purse. I won’t even bother with the psychiatrist. Not now. I need help urgently.

“I get what you’re saying, Mom, but I don’t think now is the right time,” I rush out as I grasp my phone and pull it out. “I didn’t have my coffee, right? You always tell me that’s why I can’t hear the voices who speak to you. Let’s pull over and I’ll get us to a coffee shop.”

I straighten in my seat just as she jerks the car again. “Too late, Prudence. It’s too late, but it’ll be fine.”

A tear flows over my lashes and down my cheek. “Okay, Mom,” I whisper, finally getting my phone unlocked with my trembling hand. I dial 911 and press the phone to my ear, looking up through the windshield. Just as an operator connects, I scream.

Mom swerved too far. Lost control. We hit the truck that was coming up beside us, and now we’re in the air.

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