Page 60 of Where Demons Hide

Footsteps pound on the wooden stairs.

Thwump, thwump, thwump, thwump.

Loud and fast like my heartbeat.

Nonna bursts into the room. “Dio mio. What is all this shouting?” She sucks in a heavy breath. “No.” Her hand flies to her mouth as she runs to the edge of the bed. “Oh, God. No.” She falls to her knees and starts praying in Italian. She grabs his other hand and brings it to her lips, kissing and praying as sobs wreck her throat.

I’m shivering. All the way to my bones. It’s so fucking cold in here. Why is it so goddamn cold? “Makenna. I need Makenna. She can help him.” Saving people is what she does.

Matteo takes in the scene. The blood drains from his face as his eyes land on me. “Cal—”

“I need Makenna.”I need her to save him.

“Cal, I don’t think—”

My chest is heavy. The air is weighted. I can’t breathe it in. “He needs her.”I need her.“She needs to fucking save him.”He’s not savable.

My fucking chest aches and burns and I can’t catch my breath. “Makenna!”

My head is throbbing. Splintering from the battle going on between my heart and my mind. I’ve seen death. I know what it looks like. But I can’t…

I can’t.

I can’t.

This can’t be real.

My legs give out and I fall to my knees.

Nonna is sobbing and praying. She climbs up onto the bed, lying next to him. Her head is on his chest and her hand cups his face.

Matteo swallows.

And then I see my angel standing in the doorway.

40

Makenna

I’m in the bathroom when I hear the first scream. The kitchen is empty. I rush up painted-white wood stairs to one of the bedrooms, following the sound of Callisto’s voice. The pain is palpable. Suffocating. Every step is more difficult to take than the last. My bones tremble, the kind of chilling quake that tells your mind something terrible has happened.

And then I get there. The room spins. My stomach bottoms out.

No.

Oh, God. Please.

Callisto’s grandmother is lying on the bed, next to Carlos, holding his hand. The color of life has drained from his face, but he looks at peace, as if he’d been waiting for death and welcomed it.

Her sobs go silent as she stares into the room. I know that feeling of seeing butnot seeing. Of being here but notpresent.

I’m numbed by shock but somehow, my feet move forward, and I tick through the checklist.

Check for a pulse.There is none.

Chest compressions.

My head is silent. There is only me, Carlos’s skin, the feel of his ribs beneath my hands, and the unrelenting need to see his eyes open. Even though I know in my gut they won’t. He was gone long before I got here. But I have to try.

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