Where the Truth Lives - Mia Sheridan Page 0,129

“It shouldn’t take too long for them to come to. But we’ll wait. I need them awake for the ritual.”

Ritual?

He walked to a corner where there was a black case and a red, rusted can. He picked the can up, humming some unknown tune as he walked around the perimeter of the room, pouring the liquid in a trail behind him.

Gasoline. Liza smelled it.

Oh God.

He was planning on burning them? A scream rose within her.

Hold it together. Reed must have figured out you were abducted by now. But even if he had, how would he ever know where Axel had taken her? She didn’t even know where they were. Then again . . . she looked around. “The house,” she murmured. “The one they told us about at Camp Joy.” Her voice sounded gritty, unused.

Axel looked up. “That’s right. I knew you’d remember. This is it, Angel. This is where we ascend. All of us.” He used his hand to sweep toward Liza and the other two. Oh my God, she thought, realization flooding her, they’re the other two kids who were in our cabin.

“You recognize them, don’t you? Milo and Sabrina? All of us, back together again.” His shoulders dropped. “Except Everett,” he whispered. “But I’m his brother. I carry his blood inside me. Maybe . . . maybe this will save him too.”

Liza looked at Milo and Sabrina, seeing them not as they were now, but as they’d been. Then. Yes, yes, she remembered now. Milo had been prostituted by his own mother, and Sabrina had been severely beaten by her father. She’d almost died, been left with a permanent limp and scars littering her skin. Everett and Axel’s parents had both died in an accidental fire. They’d shared their stories, there in the safety of that remote cabin. It was the first time Liza had spoken her pain because those kids? They understood.

“I read those final Tribulation editions,” Charles broke in. “Just this morning, as a matter of fact. Riveting. I guess I’m playing the demon in this far-off-Broadway show?”

Axel smiled, a long hum sounding in his throat. “Playing? Hardly. You’re a demon, Charlie,” he said. “I knew Mimi would get you here, and she did.”

Charles’s expression grew icy, but as quickly as that, he smiled. “Don’t lie. You wish you’d killed your grandfather yourself, don’t you, Axel?”

His grandfather? Gordon Draper? Killed?

Axel paused for a long time, gasoline dripping from the can he was holding, creating a puddle on the floor. “I’m glad he’s dead. But”—he shook his head—“no, I wanted the ultimate demon. You. The one they could never catch. The one my grandfather said was too smart for everyone. He respected you,” Axel said. “He was . . . star-struck.”

“Trust me, he wasn’t star-struck the last time I saw him,” Charles said, his lips curving. “I don’t think he enjoyed spending time with me at all.”

“No,” he murmured. “I’m sure he didn’t. But he’d still be jealous. He’d be jealous that I caught you. Because I had the ace up my sleeve. I looked through that box. I found Mimi’s picture. He didn’t even realize who he’d killed or who was out in that garden. My grandfather was never great at remembering names, only screams.” He moved his head from side to side, stretching his neck. “I wasn’t there for that particular killing, but when I asked him about sweet pea, he told me that she’d begged. She’d begged him not to take her away from her little boy. He did, though. He did take her away from her little Charlie. You. But as it turned out, you were a demon too.”

Charles moved suddenly and Liza sucked in a breath as Axel’s posture changed. He was wary of Charles, even with him strung from the ceiling, hanging from chains.

She didn’t understand what they were discussing, but it terrified her all the same.

Charles sniffed, regaining whatever composure he’d seemed to lose for a moment there. “I enjoyed watching him die, even if I would have liked to draw it out a little more. But . . . time constraints.” Charles paused, appearing thoughtful and as relaxed as a man could look while hanging from shackles. “As it turns out, however, I do have some limits. A nose? Well.” He shrugged, a small movement with his hands tied above his head the way they were. “That’s just a nice clean swipe. But removing the eyes?” He shook his head, cringing dramatically. “Wow, you’ve gotta be a real

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