passed out when I get back into the room, silently closing the door behind me. I take his shirt off and climb in bed next to him, pulling a fluffy white comforter over the both of us. It’s been another long fucking day, and exhaustion crashes down on me, pulling into a peaceful sleep, tucked into bed all snuggly and warm next to Ethan…who I think I’m starting to fall for.
I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes, wanting nothing more than to drift to sleep only to wake up together later. But I’m me, and things don’t go as planned.
I’m almost asleep when I hear the bird-demon screech. My eyes fly open, and I sit up, heart racing. Running my hand over my face, I look at Ethan. He’s sound asleep, and a bit of blood stains the gauze on his arm.
Shaking my head, I try to push away that feeling…the one where the most obvious story has been laid out before me and I’m missing the biggest plot twist in the history of plot twists.
The ghost…the bird-demons…I know they’re connected now. But how? And why? Careful not to wake Ethan, I get out of bed and pull the picture from my pocket.
“What happened to you, Ryan?” I ask, looking down at the blonde ghost. “Why are you coming to me? Did those bird-demons go after you too?”
If they did, it didn’t end well for him.
I put the photo down and get my phone instead. I open a Google search and blank on what to even look for. I type in Ryan, murder, Syracuse and get nothing. Biting my lip, I look at the search results. “Maybe you weren’t murdered,” I say out loud and change my search criteria to Ryan, suicide, Syracuse.
An article pops up, and I sharply inhale. Years ago, a boy name Ryan was found in the woods by his father. Ryan’s wrists had been slit, and the article—dated and insensitive by today’s standards—goes on to say that Ryan was a bit of an outcast and that was suspected reason for the boy to have taken his own life.
Did he kill himself? The way he died matches with what I feel, and the sense of hopelessness could be from the weight of his depression.
But what was he running from?
I don’t think it was symbolic running, like he was running away from mental demons. Was he running away from the bird-demons? Feeling overwhelmed, I go back under the covers, finding comfort next to Ethan. The Pricolici seemed bad enough, along with the demon who sent them. Now there are creepy-ass bird-things.
In his sleep, Ethan drapes an arm over me, and my pounding heart starts to slow. Was he right to suggest I temporarily banish Ryan’s ghost so we can focus on one issue at a time? At the rate demons are coming after us, I don’t think I have much of a choice.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Ethan?” Someone knocks softly on the door, waiting a beat before opening it a few inches. “Anora? Are you awake?”
“I am,” I say, sitting up and holding the covers over myself. I’ve been dozing off and on for the last few hours, and had finally fallen asleep right before Julia knocked on the door—of course, right? It’s dark out now, and I can’t see the person standing in the doorway. It sounded like Julia, but then again, Sam and Julia’s voices are practically identical. Though, Sam wouldn’t be asking so nicely, I’m sure of it. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Julia says, and my eyes start to adjust to the hall light spilling in behind her. “David is home and wanted to talk to Ethan. How’s he doing?”
“He’s still asleep.”
“Don’t wake him. Though if you could come down and take a look at some books, it might help us identify the bird-demon things.”
“Sure.” I run my hand through my hair. “Let me, uh, find my clothes.”
“Your shirt was a little bloody,” Julia reminds me. “Your clothes from the other day are here. I washed them. I’ll bring them up for you.”
“Oh, right. I forgot about that. Thanks.”
The door clicks shut, and I lie back down, resting a hand on Ethan’s chest. My heart swells, and I feel so fucking much for him. Keep a level head, Anora, I tell myself, though I know it’s a moot point. A few seconds later, Julia returns, and sets my clothes on the dresser. I get up, fumbling in the dark. My phone is…somewhere, and with the