“No. What about Ramon?”
She doesn’t know. If she ran through the nave, she might have missed seeing him on the cross.
“Darcy?” she prods.
I shake my head. Her hand covers her mouth and muffles her gasp. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers.
“I need to find Santa Muerte,” I say, changing the subject.
Paige rises to her feet. “What about Carmen?”
“She shouldn’t be bothering us anymore.”
“You killed her?”
It’s a legitimate question, given my current state. “No. She’s just… stuck.”
Paige furrows her brow.
More glass shatters a few rows away. Down an adjacent hall, a light is extinguished. I move toward it.
Paige gingerly grabs hold of my arm. “She’s luring you.”
For a brief moment, I find it comforting to know that Paige and I are in sync.
“Yeah, well,” I say, “I don’t have much a choice, so stay behind me.”
We move down the corridor, passing several intersections, but I can’t see down to the end of any row. I suspect we’re in the middle, but it’s impossible to tell. We proceed cautiously past the alcoves as each one is now completely dark. Anything could be hiding in them.
More glass shatters behind us. When we turn, it’s clear we’re running out of lights. The shadows are getting closer. We continue walking.
We come to the only hallway still lit, a single stretch that ends with a backlit mosaic projecting a kaleidoscope of colors. Before it rises a pale stone altar. A figure steps into view. I would know his silhouette anywhere.
“David!” I shout. My only concern is for him, so I sprint down the corridor to rush to his side before any harm can befall him.
Everything happens in a split second.
“Darcy, no!” shouts Paige behind me.
David’s silhouette turns to face me. I recognize the item in his hand and the muzzle flash when it fires. Paige grabs my legs, tripping me. I fall face-first as a bullet ricochets off the marble and past my head.
“Darcy?” David calls from the shadows.
I’m okay, but Paige’s deadweight on my legs sends me into a panic. I roll over and check on her. “Paige!” I shout, lifting her head from the floor.
Her eyes flutter open as she struggles to regain her equilibrium. A giant red bump swells on her forehead, from where it struck the floor. She lets out a groan.
Approaching footsteps clack on the stone tile. Paige’s eyes widen, and she scrambles to her feet. David nears, and the moment he sees me as this monstrosity, he aims his gun again. I cringe into a ball, waiting for the shot, as Paige slides between us, her arms spread to protect me.
“It’s Darcy!” she shouts.
David freezes, but his gun stays pointed. I make no sudden move. I don’t even breathe. I wasn’t thinking when I ran to him. I can only imagine the horror he sees—a demonic creature emerging from the dark while he’s trapped in the catacombs of a church.
“It’s okay. Trust me.” Nothing happens. “It’s Darcy,” Paige repeats.
Slowly, I raise my face and crane my neck around Paige’s defensive position. David’s gun is still pointed at me. As I come into view, his face is an expression of revulsion and fear. His finger stays on the trigger.
I shrink and look down. I wish I had never seen that look. Now burned into my mind is his expression as he debates whether or not to kill me. Part me wishes he would pull the trigger just so this terrible moment would end.
He doesn’t. “Darcy?”
I look up. David stands there, his gun down at his side, finger off the trigger. Paige moves aside, allowing David to see me.
With nothing left to hide, I stand. My arms crisscross over my body to hide my glowing heart as my pulse anxiously quickens. But there’s no hiding the bright orange arteries running through my arms. I keep my face down so he doesn’t have to take it all in at once.
Santa Muerte’s plan is clear now—to lure me into the mausoleum and lead me to David. She was gambling on the fact that a cop would shoot first and ask questions later when confronted with a creature like me.
David takes a step closer. “Is that really you?”
I look up, making sure my mouth stays closed and my fangs stay hidden. I nod.
He looks me over, trying to figure out if this is real or some trick of makeup and costume design. “How?”
More glass breaks behind us. We’re now in a pocket of light, with each hallway around us disappearing into shadows. I scan our surroundings, looking for Santa Muerte.
“And what the hell is it doing that?” David asks.
When I turn to face him, I see a skull emerging from the shadows behind him. I grab him by the shirt and pull him past me as Santa Muerte’s hand reaches for him. David goes sliding, and I intercept her outstretched hand with my own. Flames erupt the moment we make contact.
She unleashes an unholy scream, and I whip her around to throw her down the hall. Keeping hold, she pulls me with her. We shoot down the corridor like a bullet down a barrel. The inertia is so strong it feels like we’re flying.
We smash into the far wall, our bodies slamming against stone. Santa Muerte tries to use the sudden brake as an opportunity to plunge her claws into my chest, but I’m too fast. My hands wrap around her wrist, instantly burning her.
She gives another cry but doesn’t stop. The force is so great that it pushes me off my feet, and we go flying down another dark corridor. My hands remain wrapped around her wrists as she propels us down the hall. Flames erupt around us. We’re a ball of orange light shooting down a shadowy passage.
My back crashes into an altar, and I can feel my spine bend unnaturally from the impact. A rapid sequence of crackling sounds follows. Santa Muerte flies over and past me. The flames are extinguished, and I crumple to the floor, trying to catch my
