By that sin, fell the angels.
—William Shakespeare
Alyssa Murdock grimaces as she takes a sip of her drink, unaware that I’m watching her through the trees. Every time her shirt rises up, I see the bruises on her back.
Hearing it and seeing it are two different things.
Very few of my victims have children. Alyssa is the only offspring who isn’t an adult.
At eight, she’s still a child, with far too many bruises in her history, and too many scars on her heart. Despite the shit-hand life has dealt me, I never once felt the strike of my father’s anger. He never hit me. I was doted on and loved. As a child should be.
But Greg Murdock has hit his daughter too many times.
He gets bumped up on the list because of that.
Turning away and leaving her to hide her bruises in front of her friends who are playing on the treehouse with her, I pull my hood back up and leave my lurking shadows.
Hadley’s number silently flashes on my screen again, and I ignore her call once more. My eyes flit over her text, and a twinge of guilt hits me, even though no other emotion is infiltrating the barrier I have in place right now.
HADLEY: Logan knows!
I know she’s worried, which is why she keeps calling. But right now, in this moment, I don’t trust myself to speak to anyone.
Since Jake left earlier, my tears have all dried up, and my heart keeps garnering a new layer of ice with each passing moment.
I’m back in survival mode, shutting off everything to keep from drowning in the pain. If I allow myself to feel right now, I’ll never stop crying.
And there is no time for tears.
ME: I know. Look after yourself. Don’t worry about me.
ME: And thank you for accepting me and understanding.
My finger hovers over the option to send that last message, but I finally press it and turn my phone off, removing the battery. Then I head back toward the house we’ve commandeered, courtesy of the Dalia family that only lives here during the Christmas season and summer.
It’s secluded, the house hidden from the main road by a veil of thick trees. Only a slender driveway leads to the home, and we have sensors in to alert us if anyone passes over them.
The end is coming.
But I almost don’t even care anymore.
My dispassion is just one repercussion of turning numb to survive.
A car rolls by me as I walk down the long driveway, and I glance over, seeing Jake’s eyes meet mine through the window. I cut my gaze away, because he’s searching me, watching me, worrying about my intentions now that the light is officially gone.
My brother sacrificed his own life to save mine. Even without Logan standing by me, I owe it to my brother to survive, regardless if it is a soulless, empty existence. I just don’t have the drive to make that my ultimate goal any longer.
My main priority is to see this through, grant my brother’s dying wish, and finally lay to rest all the misery from the past.
Jake drives on, parking at the end of the driveway, and he gets out, heading straight toward me.
“So you disappeared into the woods again?” Jake asks.
“I did some recon. Hitting Murdock tonight.”
“Tonight?” he asks, a worried note to his tone.
“I need something to stab, and he needs to be stabbed. Seems like we could help each other out,” I tell him dryly.
He grabs my arm, halting me from walking by, and I stare into his concerned eyes.
“Lana, take a minute and regroup. Logan—”
“Logan is a guy who was never meant to be in my life,” I answer coldly, ignoring the trickle of pain that slowly starts sparking across my heart.
I suppress the urge to rub my chest, knowing it would give me away, and I walk inside the house with Jake following me. When I turn around, I hate what I see.
So much pity is staring at me right now through my best friend’s eyes.
“You should see this,” he says, pulling out his phone. “I spoke to Logan.”
My eyes widen, and my mouth falls open. “What?! Why would you risk that?”
“I didn’t risk anything, and for you, nothing is too big of a risk. He wouldn’t hear your words, so I made him listen.” He turns and walks away, but I follow on his heels.
I blink back the tears I’ve barely been staving off all day. “You had no right,” I growl.
He spins, facing me as he walks backwards.
“He figured out all the good parts by himself by the time he found me. Don’t worry, Lana. I’m playing the game your way.”
My feet freeze to their spot, and that coldness reforms, stealing away the tears that almost fell. It’s as though Jake sees it, because his face falls.
“I’m not playing a game, and there’s no longer a prize.”
He groans as I pass him. “Damn it, Lana. That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
“I do know it. I need to go for another run, and then we’ll talk about tonight’s murder.”
He grabs my wrist, and I react, slinging him around and coming down on top of him as he crashes to the living room floor. He grunts as I pin him, working all my muscles to hold him in place.
“How is it that we both took all those damn classes, but you’re the fucking master and I still feel intermediate.”
Despite my best efforts, my lips twitch as the shield around me thaws a fragment.
“For the same reason I took all those same tech classes and can barely work my smart phone, whilst you create virtual empires.”
He smiles up at me, and I climb off him, helping him to his feet. When his smile starts to slip, I know the seriousness is about to come back.
“There’s something you should see.”
Curious, I follow him as he grabs his phone from the ground, where it fell during his takedown. As he lifts it and moves his fingers rapidly over the screen, searching for something, I stare idly through the window.
Delaney Grove was once my home. Then it became my hell.
Now I just want out of here because it’s nothing to me anymore.
But it was something to Marcus.
To my mother.
To my father.
Their bodies are all buried here, just like Kennedy Carlyle is. Although her tombstone actually says Victoria Evans.
What a fucked up mess we wove so delicately.
It was a fool-proof plan. I thought the worst thing I could do was go insane from the dark depths I had to reach. Turns out, falling in love was truly the worst. The darkness is just my twisted little friend.
“Here,” Jake says, pressing play on his phone.
He sits down as I study the screen, seeing the time stamp on the video being almost an hour old. It doesn’t stop my heart from pounding just seeing Logan.
He slams his fist into the wall, and I grimace, ignoring the heat of my tears as they beckon to fall. From there, he loses it, slinging a chair across the room. One thing after another gets smashed as he yells at nothing and no one.
He grabs a bat from the corner, and he slams it into the window, busting it out. Then he takes the bat to the rest of the room, smashing anything he can break as he loses all control.
I slowly back against the wall, and my body slides down it until my ass touches the floor. And I watch. I watch the man who never loses control have a meltdown.
This is my fault.
I should have walked away.
“He loves you,” Jake says, clutching my shoulder, no longer sitting as he crouches beside me.
I move away from his touch as Logan continues to annihilate the room, destroying anything that will break.
“He doesn’t love me like I love him,” I say hoarsely. “I love him enough to burn the world to the ground in his name.”
I touch the screen as Logan’s warpath comes to an end, and his chest heaves as he drops his head back, staring up at the ceiling. Finally, he stalks out of the cabin, his mask of composure back in place as he slams the door behind him so hard it simply bounces open again.
“He just loves me enough to feel betrayed,” I add on a rasp whisper.
Jake goes stiff beside me, and I hand him his phone as I wipe away a stray tear.
“You didn’t give him time, Lana. Maybe now—”
“Now what?” I ask, exasperated. “Don’t you think I’d love to ride off into the sunset with him? I’m not being stubborn, Jake. You’re constantly worried about my hold on reality because of the dark places I have to go to finish all these kills. But you’re the one being irrational right now. Logan found out the truth. He fucked me and left me cuffed to a bed, and when he left…there was nothing but disgust and pain in his eyes.”
I choke back a sob, refusing to fall apart again right now.
Jake’s eyes are full of tears as my lip trembles, but I go on. “He’s so pure. So good. So honest and genuine. So gentle and kind. It’s all those qualities that made me fall in love, because he was everything—everything!—I’d always wanted in someone. And he loved me. Yet, I wanted to taint the very things about him that made me fall in love, just so I could selfishly take him to the dark with me and keep him. It was wrong.”
“It’s not selfish, Lana,” Jake argues gingerly.
“You haven’t found love since Marcus, even though Marcus only ever wanted that for you. His note begged you to move on and find love. His words beseeched me to burn down this fucking town. You haven’t done your part to ensure his last request, because you’ve been too busy helping me with mine. Maybe it’s time to break up this partnership so you can finally have that chance.”
Anger flashes across his eyes, and he pushes to his feet, coming to get right in my face.
“We swore we’d never do this to each other, Lana. Never push the other away no matter how intense the world around us got. You don’t get to fucking send me away because you’re hurting. Got that? You don’t get to use Marcus against me ever again. Understood?”
I swallow the knot in my throat as tear after fucking tear escapes my eyes, and I nod weakly, hating myself for doing that. Jake’s arms go around me, and I immediately wrap my arms around him in return.
We stand there, fixed in an embrace, and for a brief moment, he feels and smells just like Marcus always did. I close my eyes, pretending for a second that my brother is back, holding me to him, regretting the weight he put on my shoulders.
He wanted happiness for Jake. He wanted wrath from me.
He thought Jake too kind for such a task.
He knew the anger would burn harshly in my broken heart.
He knew I was a monster before I did.
My face is pressed against his chest as the illusion of it being Marcus slowly starts to fade. It’s just as comforting knowing it’s Jake. He’s been my brother for ten years.
Turning my head so that my cheek is cushioned by his chest, I stare at the monitor with Logan on the screen. He’s in the town square now, no longer looking like a betrayed man.
He’s talking to his team, but the sound is muted, so I don’t know what he’s saying. It was over an hour ago that he had his meltdown. By now, he could be sending them to find me.
“Sometimes, I wonder what my brother must have thought of me to know I’d be able to do all of this,” I say softly.
Jake’s arms tighten around me. “He thought you were the strongest person he ever knew, and he raved about your fire all the time, Victoria,” he tells me.
I shake my head. “Never call me that again,” I whisper.
He kisses the top of my head, sighing harshly. “We can stop this anytime you want. You’ve more than fulfilled the promise you made.”
My eyes lift to another screen where Sheriff Cannon is holding a private meeting with his deputies. My eyes narrow, because I know they’re plotting.
“No. I can’t. If I don’t finish this today, someone else could face the pain we did. They’ll never stop, and no one else will ever stop them. If I stop now, it was all for nothing. I need there to be a reason why this happened to us, even if that reason is simply because I’m the only one capable of being sick enough to finish this once and for all.”
As I push away from him, Jake grabs my wrist, turning me back to face him. When our eyes collide, I see the steely glint in his gaze.
“You are not sick. Marcus was right—you’re the strongest fucking person I know. You’re not sick, Lana. You’re a fucking dark angel that can set the world free from this sick town.”
I offer him a brittle smile, giving him the illusion that his words have helped me. Doesn’t matter what I am. Doesn’t matter who I am.
All that matters is that I finish my mission.
Avenge my family.
And burn this town to the ground.
I don’t need to feel love in order to be a monster.
I just need to remember.
It’s not hard to do with the sun getting close to setting. The dark sky always calls to the memories if I allow it. For once, I let them in.
“No!” I shout, reaching for my father as Deputy Murdock restrains me, almost ripping my left arm out of socket to jerk me back. “He didn’t do this! He couldn’t!”
“He’s always with us at night!” Marcus shouts, battling his own fight with Deputy Briggs as he wrenches Marcus’s arm behind his back and slams him into the wall.
“It’s okay, kids,” Dad says, tears pouring from his eyes. “Don’t fight them. I’m okay. It’ll all be okay. There’s no way they can convict me of crimes I didn’t commit.”
“Good thing we can convict you of crimes you did commit, you evil son of a bitch,” Sheriff Cannon growls, slamming his fist into my father’s stomach so hard that my father buckles at the waist and collapses to the ground, his hands cuffed behind him.
Marcus and I both scream in vain, begging them to stop the sheriff when he kicks our father in the face while he’s down. Dad flips to his back, blood pooling from his mouth after the strike.
He’s trying to be strong in front of us, but a small sob escapes him when the sheriff kicks him again, this time right in his side.
“Easy, not here,” SSA Johnson says, smirking at us as we continue to try and break free from our holds. “But you should know, there is evidence to your father’s crimes.”
He bends, crouching beside my father.
“You’re never going to see freedom again, and I’ll make sure of that, no matter what I have to do,” Johnson says acidly, a sinister grin on his face.
Murdock slings me back against the wall when I try to break free again, and I cry out when his weight comes down on top of me. “Maybe I should teach him a lesson and let him watch all the sick things he did to our women…” His words trail off as he brushes my hair to the side, and I go rigid against him. “Using his daughter,” he adds, his voice an eerie promise.
“No!” Dad shouts, earning another kick from the sheriff.
“Do that, and I’ll arrest you myself,” Johnson growls. “We’re after Evans. Those are just kids. Now come on. We have our man. We still have a long road ahead of us.”
“Or we could just end it now,” Briggs says, still holding Marcus.
Murdock continues to restrain me, still pressing his disgusting body against mine.
“We do things my way,” Johnson growls. “You’ll have your vengeance. But for now, we do things my way.”
My father is beaten and almost incoherent as they jerk him to his feet. His head hangs as I cry, begging once again for them to listen to the truth. To HEAR me. But no one listens.
No one cares.
Johnson and the sheriff drag my father out the door, and I watch my life get ripped apart.
Murdock pulls me back, creating a small separation between me and the wall, then shoves me hard back into it. I get dizzy and taste blood in my mouth.
“This isn’t over for you two,” he says, a dark gleam in his eyes.
Briggs tosses my brother to the ground, and I rush to his side as he slowly lifts up. Briggs and Murdock laugh on their way out, and I hold Marcus’s hand.
“They can’t convict him. This will all be a nightmare soon,” my brother promises as he sits up, his eyes hard and determined as he looks at me. “I promise, Victoria. We’ll prove him innocent.”
Innocence didn’t matter in the end. Not with the DNA evidence.
“Holy shit,” Jake says, drawing me out of my own head as he sits down in front of the far monitor.
My eyes widen in disbelief as Dev Thomas steps out of a small Honda, standing to his full height as he looks around at the church in front of him. No doubt he heard about Kyle.
“What’s he doing here?” Jake asks.
“Only one way to find out,” I say with a smirk.
I spared him, given what I heard from Lawrence and Tyler, and the fact Dev never really participated in the night’s festivities. But why would he come to town if not to join in on the manhunt?
“You going to him?” he asks as Dev steps inside the church where we have no cameras.
I don’t have to answer that. Murdock will have to wait a few hours to die.
“Be careful. I need to back up the footage to see what Logan has told the others.”
“Just call Hadley,” I say to him instead, looking over my shoulder.
“You sure we can trust her?” he asks, his lips tensing.
“You don’t have to trust her. Just trust that I wouldn’t jeopardize your safety.”
He sighs while nodding, and he grabs a phone.
“I’ll drive to the edge of town, just in case.”
I walk out as he carries on with his task, and I hop in the car with the darkly tinted windows. I drive fast out of the forest, and don’t slow down until I hit the town limits. It’s not like the cops are worried about speeding right now, since the sheriff is on the warpath to avenge his son’s death.
It broke him when his daughter was killed. She was put on public display, which is what led to us being raped and beaten in the streets.
I hope it fucking kills him to lose his son. Displaying him to the town was a nice touch to recognize his afore mentioned grief. His daughter was a bitch and a snob, but she didn’t deserve to die.
Kyle? Kyle deserved more than he got.
I park near the pharmacy, and I walk the two blocks to the church, carefully gauging my surroundings to ensure I’m not being set up.
When I’m positive no one is focused on the church, I step in through the back and creep inside. I’m happy to report that I don’t burst into flames, so maybe I’m not completely consumed by evil just yet, despite the fact I desecrated the church bell tower with Kyle’s mostly skinless body.
As I reach the main part of the church, I stop, staying behind the curtain that leads to the stage where my mother once performed for the town plays.
Dev is on his knees, his hands folded in prayer, and his eyes are closed as tears leak from his eyes.
Well…that’s unexpected.
“Please forgive me of the sins committed when I was last in this town,” Dev says hoarsely. “Even though I don’t deserve it. Give me the strength to do what needs to be done now, and keep my sister safe from any harm or retaliation.”
I cock my head, studying him. My eyes flit around the room next, still expecting a trap. No such thing looks to be in place.
To be absolutely certain, I text Jake from my burner phone that I’ve swapped to.
ME: You got eyes on the church?
JAKE: No one is on their way there. The feds are all in the square, and they’re talking about going door to door to unearth new evidence about the original killer. Johnson, Cannon, and the deputies are all at town hall talking about who you might be and how to draw you out. Coast is clear.
ME: Original killer? Why?
JAKE: They want to figure out who it really was. For now, their focus has shifted. Looks like Logan kept your secret…as long as Hadley didn’t lie to me and they aren’t setting up a ruse.
ME: What are they asking?
JAKE: They found out the first killing was on the anniversary of your parents’ first date. And they also learned the women had all the same features as your mother.
I clutch the phone tighter in my hand, and I blow out a weary breath, deciding not to question it. I don’t need distractions right now.
I pull up the mask of a cold-hearted killer, settling into my role with familiar ease. It’s easier to be this version of me. The version who doesn’t care or flinch.
Dev’s eyes stay closed, and I hop down to take my seat on the edge of the stage, sitting right beside the pulpit—still no flames—and approximately seven feet in front of Dev.
He continues praying for a minute longer, and when his eyes open, he stumbles back to his ass, shocked to see someone in front of him.
“Hello, Dev. Long time no see.”
The color drains from his face. “Victoria,” he whispers, surprising me.
I hide my surprise. “You’re the first one to recognize me.”
He swallows audibly while nodding slowly. “I knew it was you when I heard about the killings,” he goes on, slowly shifting back onto his knees, but not attempting to stand. “Marcus swore you’d rise from the dead as an angel that night. He always knew this day would come. And your eyes… Your eyes give you away.”
I roll said eyes, and I lean forward, studying him with a careless coldness.
“I spared you, and you come to this town right as Kyle is flayed and hung from the tower of this very church. Why are you here?”
His lip trembles, and his hands begin to shake in fear. I like that fear.
“I came to do the right thing. To tell them—”
“To tell them a dead girl rose from the grave to exact revenge?” I drawl, a dark, taunting smile curving my lips.
“No!” he says, panicking a little. “No,” he says again, quieter this time as he looks around.
I glance at my phone, using the app to show me the cameras, flicking from screen to screen as Dev recovers. I give him my attention again when I see no one is near me.
“I came to tell the feds what happened,” he goes on. “I heard there was a divide, and that Johnson was getting worked against from the rest of the feds.”
My lips twitch. “Ah, I see. Well, they know what happened.”
“Diana told me she called them.”
My small smile falls. Diana? She’s stayed in contact with him?
Ignoring the bitter sting of betrayal, I continue to focus on Dev.
“So you’ve come to tell them the story they’ve already heard?”
He slowly shakes his head. “No. I’ve come to tell them the rest. The parts they don’t know. The part about Kyle’s mother.”
My breath hitches.
“I also plan to tell them who the real killer was, Victoria. I want them to clear your father’s name, and give your family the rest it deserves. Then your soul can be at peace.”
I laugh humorlessly. “You think I’m really a ghost who has risen from the grave?” I mock.
He shakes his head. “I think you’re selling your soul to the devil for revenge, and I’m trying to help you before it’s completely gone. I want to save you.”
More laughter slips out of me, this time mocking him. “If you wanted to save me, you should have done it ten years ago.”
I hop off the stage, and he tenses as I pull out a knife. “I’m already too far gone now, Dev. You had your chance. Instead, you watched from the sidelines as they tore my soul from my body. It was anger or brokenness. Which path do you think I chose?”
His lips purse. “No soul is above saving, Victoria. No—”
I throw the knife, and he screams while diving away as it slams into the wall beside him, nowhere even close to his body, despite his attempt to flee. I find that a little humorous.
The knife is stuck in the picture of Sheriff Cannon and the plaque that praises him for donating so generously to the church. It’s right between his eyes, and I never had to look to aim it that well.
Once again, the color drains from Dev’s face, because he sees proof I’m no longer the weak little girl they let bleed on the streets.
“I’m stronger. Faster. Smarter. And far more lethal than anyone in this town. If I wanted you dead, you’d already be dead. Kyle had the sheriff’s love and his protection. Yet I flayed him and hung him from the tower for the entire town to witness his demise. Don’t piss me off, Dev. I’m not the girl you turned your back on ten years ago. This girl will carve out your spine if I find your back to me again.”
He gulps as I walk over to pull the knife out of the sheriff’s head, and I look over my shoulder at him.
“And never call me Victoria again, or I’ll cut out your tongue like I almost decided to do already. I’m still not certain you’re in the clear, so don’t remind me about you again. Understood?”
He nods, tears falling from his eyes.
I walk by him, and he shudders in my wake as my icy breeze follows me.
“I’m sorry,” he says as I pass him. “I’m so sorry.”
My footsteps pause, and I clutch the knife tighter, willing myself not to lose control and kill him when it’s unnecessary. It’s hard to forget his part in that night when he’s so close.
“Just remember I can’t be stopped,” I say without turning around. “Don’t make me regret showing you mercy when I’ve withheld it from all others. Jason’s time is coming too. Don’t make me return for you as well. And your father is still on my list.”
“My mother and sister are innocent,” he blurts out immediately.
I stay facing the door. “Your mother’s innocence is debatable, but she’s not on my list. Your sister was always sheltered from the rumors when she went off to college. For her own sake, make her less naïve, Dev. It’s a cruel world to those who don’t believe such evils exist. I would know.”
I walk out without saying another word, and I tuck the knife back into my boot before anyone sees me.
That was not what I needed.
I don’t want one of them trying to save my soul when they’re the reason it’s so damaged. I don’t want one of them trying to preach to me. The hypocrisy is too laughable to even dwell on.
Feeling a chill on my back, I turn, seeing Dev coming after me, and I stop on the sidewalk, cloaked in darkness in this section with no lights.
“I’m going to the feds, but I wanted you to know it was for the right reasons. Can I ask where you’re going?” he asks softly, timidly, like a lamb protesting a lion’s grip.
“To kill someone,” I say flippantly.
He blanches, then looks down at the ground. “You didn’t ask who the original killer was when I said I knew.”
Turning around again, I start walking quickly into the night before calling over my shoulder, “Because I already know.”
