“Over my dead body,” he growled watching the slow track of tears leak from her eyes.

The full force of her words crashed down on him like a wrecking ball and his legs wobbled under him. The drugs crumbled what little composure he had and he fell to the floor under the hurricane brewing in his heart and soul. Anger, devastation, fury, sorrow, rage, and grief alternated, sweeping through him at an unparalleled speed. His harsh sobs echoed in the chamber in between curses and vows of violence spewing from him, drowning out the music still pumping from the headset.

Shadows danced on the floor, catching his attention, and his sobs caught in his throat. “I’m sorry, Jen,” he said, pulling himself to his feet and wiping his face.

Jennifer smiled a little. “It’s okay,” she said.

Steve shook his head. Even as high as he was, he knew it was definitely not okay. “It is as far away from okay as it gets. I need to sober up and get you out of here before it’s too late.” He scanned her naked form, unable to contemplate what would happen if he couldn’t. “What time is it?” he asked, holding his watch out for her to look at.

“Almost seven,” Jennifer answered. “It’ll be dark in a couple hours.” She looked up at the stain glass window.

“Jesus, you’re telling me I lost six and a half hours?” The room tilted.

“I thought you were dead when they first brought you in,” she whispered and her voice hitched.

He cradled her cheek in his hand, the mere touch sent tendrils of fire through him. “I told you, I’m not dying today and neither are you.” He scanned the room again and his gaze landed on his coat. He stumbled forward and stood over the crumpled material. He clean missed the fabric, jamming his fingers into the floor on his first attempt to pick up the coat. “Damn it,” he muttered and tried again, this time fabric scrunched in his fist and he fumbled with the coat, finding the zipped interior pocket. The zipper proved difficult and the coat dropped from his grip.

A giggle caught his attention and he glanced at her. “I know, I must be a walking comedy show right now,” he smiled in her direction and then focused back on his jacket. This time he was successful and he felt around in the pocket for his cell, but only his badge and wallet were still inside. “Fuck!”

He closed his eyes and focused, fumbling with the other pockets until his hand clamped down on a small square object. He yanked his cell out of the pocket and grinned, holding in the air like a prize. His euphoria vanished the moment he flipped the phone open. Nothing happened. He pushed the on button and the phone turned on, but immediately blinked off.

“Shit,” he said, and looked at the phone again. “It’s dead.” He turned and kicked the headphones, sending them sailing across the room where they smashed into the wall and were silent.

“Check mine. It rang a few times earlier. It’s in my pocketbook on the floor.” She pointed her chin in the direction.

Steve picked up her purse and dumped it on the floor. He knelt staring at the swirling contents. Bright colors leapt out at him, capturing his attention.

“Steve!” she yelled sharply catapulting him back to reality.

Steve nodded and reached for the cell phone. He missed and glanced at Jennifer. “I’m surprised the combination of drugs didn’t kill me,” he said, “Especially since I’m still having real problems after six hours.” He tried again and this time he succeeded in grasping the phone. “I can’t see the numbers,” he muttered and just pressed redial, holding the phone to his ear and hoping it wasn’t calling his phone.

“Jen?” Tracy’s voice filled the line.

“Hey, Tracy,” Steve said and heard the shuffle of the phone.

“Hey, Steve, how’s it going?” Bill asked.

Steve didn’t react at first, but his blood pumped with poisonous venom. He stared at Jennifer. “I’m going to kill you, you son of a bitch,” he growled into the phone.

“I see you found her. That’s good.” The phone muffled again as Bill put his hand over the receiver and asked Tracy to fix him a sandwich.

Steve saw red as he listened to the silence, imagining Tracy walking into the kitchen out of earshot. Moments later a small chuckle came over the phone line.

“I can’t wait to fuck her,” Bill taunted.

Steve roared and pitched the phone across the room, where it shattered against the concrete. He paced like a caged lion, muttering ream after ream of curses, the fury radiated from him, filling the room, with his echoing rant.

Chapter 36

“Who are you going to fuck?” Tracy asked standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

Bill closed the phone, his smile fading. “What?” he asked, scrambling for an answer.

“You heard me—who are you going to fuck?”

Bill stormed inside and put his hand over her mouth. “Stop yelling,” he snapped in disgust.

Tracy’s eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open under his hand.

He’d never treated her that way before, and confusion and fear filled her eyes. For a moment, he recoiled, dropping his hand. Then the nuance of change in her eyes, transitioning from fear to fury fueled his ego, thrilling him as much as Jennifer’s pleas had.

“Who?”

Bill tossed around whether to answer her or not, and decided it would be worth it to see her reaction. “Jennifer.”

“Jennifer who?” Tracy snapped.

“Your roommate,” Bill grinned and he actually saw the click in her eyes when everything fell into place. The shadow that passed over Tracy’s features made him take a step backwards, the fear of the ritual going to hell and his resulting death clouded his brain like an adrenalin shot to the heart.

“Jennifer would never sleep with you. Ever.”

He cocked his head in a silent dare. “That’s what you think.”

“What did you do with them?” She took a threatening step forward and Bill took another step back.

“Nothing yet,” Bill answered with a cold calculating smile. “But that’s going to change in about an hour.”

“You can’t do this, Bill. You can’t!”

The last remnants of the man he used to be faded along with his humanity, shriveling up into a dry husk at the core of his being. “I can and I will,” Bill shot back, the excuses tumbling from his lips. “She was supposed to die two years ago. But no, Tom had to be the fucking white knight and trade his life for hers. This time, there’s no one to make a bargain and it wants both of them.”

“I can’t let you do that,” Tracy said, advancing another step. “I won’t.”

Bill laughed at her and she launched at him, a roar hissing from her mouth. He sidestepped, sticking his foot out and she tripped, catapulting, spinning. The railing hit hip high and the force of the collision flipped her over the side. Her hands reached desperately for the railing and the sound of her nails scraping the metal gave him a start, like nails dragging down a chalkboard. Grinding his teeth, he watched her fall; her curses fading until her body hit the pavement with a wet slap, silencing her in a bloody bath.

Flipping open her phone, he dialed nine-one-one. “Someone just took a dive off the Brooksfield Heights apartment building.” He hung up, wiped it, tossed it on the couch, and left the building by way of the back stairwell.

Chapter 37

Jennifer closed her eyes as she listened to Steve ramble off expletive after expletive. Suddenly the room shifted.

Tracy.

Tracy falling through the air with Bill’s face smiling over the railing, getting further and further away.

Tracy screaming and then the scream cut off on impact, replaced by a silent black shroud.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god!” Her breath wheezed with each repetition.

Steve stopped pacing, swiped his jacked off the floor, and stepped to her side. He covered her with the jacket and wiped her tears, staring at the wet droplets as they rolled over his fingers. He moved his gaze to hers. She still repeated the incantation, her entire body shaking. “What? What’d you see?”