Page 69 of Virgin Sacrifice

But something about that logic didn’t sit right with me.

Nixon and Alister had been very clear that at least part of their motivation was to get answers about whoever else was stalking me. And during my most recent . . . conversation . . . with Alister, he had linked the deaths and disappearances occurring on campus with me—meaning that at least he and Nixon suspected that whoever had been harassing me was also involved.

Wouldn’t the twins know if their family’s pet serial killer was behind it all? Plus, if Everest was as deranged as they said, surely I would have received a human heart, right?

Back and forth my mind went, combing through the possibilities, until I finally fell asleep, as visions of murderers and bloody hearts danced in my head.

I saw Autumn off to Rhode Island the next morning with lots of hugs and promises to take care of myself and be safe in the big city. As if the danger lurked there.

Once she was gone, I hastily retired to my room for the next two days, only venturing out to grab snacks from the vending machines on the floor.

It wasn’t my favorite way to pass the time, but I wanted to be sure that anyone who might be keeping an eye out for me would assume I was off campus at this point.

By the third day, I was all but finished with my assignments for the rest of the semester and going stir-crazy. If I didn’t get out of the confines of my dorm room today, I was liable to start making rash decisions, and I wasn’t about to waste all my careful planning due to a bout of cabin fever.

So that afternoon, I decided it was as good a time as any to stretch my legs and go for a walk. I hadn’t been exaggerating when I told Aaron I was practically good as new. I had been religious in doing my rehab exercises and had slowly been spending more and more time on my feet.

It was late November in Connecticut, and the trees had begun to lose their leaves in earnest. Once I left the well-maintained paths of the campus, a thick blanket of red, brown, and orange leaves covered the ground, and I had to pay close attention to where I stepped to avoid slipping on them.

With the sun out and the temperature shockingly mild, the woods were quiet and peaceful on the uncharacteristically beautiful fall day. Birds filled the empty space in between the trees where the leaves used to be with their chirping, and chubby squirrels darted out across the path in a desperate bid to store a last couple of nuts before winter.

When I came to the fork in the trail this time, I headed decisively down the right path.

The woods had saved me on Halloween night, and I would continue to put my faith in them.

Last week, Autumn took me into Shady Harbor, where I managed to snag a spare backpack at the local thrift shop, along with some other supplies. Tightening up the straps on the bag, I headed toward the bend in the woods where the massive hollow oak stood.

Leaves crackled and snapped underfoot as I left the main trail, gingerly weaving between saplings and elders. The distinctive caw of a crow stood out—they tended to prefer farmlands and the suburbs—making me smile. I wasn’t the only odd bird out here.

Coming into the clearing during daytime, the massive oak looked even more impressive. Its knotty branches, now completely free of leaves, spread out across the crisp blue sky like a dark network of veins, mirroring its roots below. From death came life and from life came death.

I crawled back into the hollow, appreciating the splendor of the ancient tree all the more without the weight of the hunt on me, and snuggled back up against the very wall I had found myself pressed up against that night.

It was cathartic.

Mami never made me feel weak for feeling fear. She understood what a powerful motivator it was. But she did teach me how to take action in spite of it. How to confront it.

I sat there, deep in the heart of dark woods, for another hour or so, doing nothing more than listening to the subtle chatter of the wildlife and the swishing sound of the last remaining leaves in the wind. By the time I had set up my supplies and left, dusk was creeping in, and my ankle throbbed from overexerting myself, but a sense of satisfaction hummed in my veins.

It was only the very beginnings of a trap, but I couldn’t help but wonder who it might catch.

Chapter thirty-two

Luz

The rest of fall break was mercifully uneventful. I finished up my coursework for the semester and began working on my notes for final exams, along with wrapping up some minor errands and chores.

Autumn was even more uncharacteristically subdued after her visit with her family in Rhode Island, and part of me felt guilty that I hadn’t gone with her for support. I tried to rationalize it. I was dealing with a psychotic killer stalking me, but the impostor syndrome I felt at being her friend was real.

Aaron returned looking a touch better, although the stress of school was clearly weighing on him, and it wasn’t long before his sunken eyes and pale complexion returned. Melody continued to fuss over both of them as winter crept up on us, the nights getting longer and the days colder.

Hearts continued to pop up all over campus with troubling regularity. Not the porcine or human variety, but the stickers had escalated from an occasional to almost daily. Since Sandra’s body had been found, whoever was stalking me was upping their game, a sign that they were beginning to build up to something bigger.

I wasn’t surprised when the next body was found in early December. It was one of the young women missing from town, Rachel Taylor.

This time I only nearly vomited when I saw the photo the killer sent me. Like Sandra, she had been dressed up in a pure white gown and left ritualistically posed, with her heart left to rest atop her.

The pageantry of it was designed to attract attention, and it worked. Security was increased yet again on campus, and posters popped up encouraging students to remain aware of their surroundings and report any suspicious activities. Rumors of serial killers and satanic cults spread like wildfire, and fewer and fewer students could be found milling about after dark on campus.

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