“What happened?” Taylor didn’t have to explain she meant the injury.
“I don’t know. I was running and was attacked. I felt something gash at my leg, and I fell face-first. I looked up and a big cloud was over Rich, and then he collapsed.” Tyler’s eyes filled with tears. “How am I going to tell his mother?”
“Give me the keys,” Darrel said, and Tyler passed them over while Taylor’s uncle was sprinting to the condo building. Residents were outside now, drawn by the gunshot and people lingering under the parking lot lights.
Taylor ignored their questions as she and Brent gained access to the building through the front entrance. After being out in the dark, the fluorescent lights were overwhelming, and she squinted until her eyes acclimated to the brightness. They burned with redness, and the dried tears on her cheeks pinched her skin tight.
“We don’t have to do this, Tay. We can wait for the cops to get here.” Brent grabbed her by the shoulders, turning her to face him. He pulled her close, and she smelled his musk, momentarily finding it overbearing.
She broke free from his embrace. “We can’t wait. If it’s gone with my dad, we have to find the nest. The children…”
“Are dead. They’re all dead. You saw what it did to Rich and the sheriff out there!” Brent was shouting, and Darrel came between them, giving Brent a slight shove to the chest.
“Settle down, son. Stay here if you want, but we’re going.” The door was unlocked, and Darrel took Taylor by the arm, moving past Brent. He watched them, as if considering his options, and hesitantly joined them in the stairwell. Taylor suddenly wanted him gone, away from here. She didn’t want the added pressure of having to look out for Brent and worry about his safety.
She wanted to tell him to go to the car and wait with the sheriff. Instead, she stepped onto the concrete stairs leading to the basement.
Twenty-One
Paul Alenn was no longer able to control his body. He was trapped in a compartment, able to see what was happening, to think and reason, but not do anything about it. The voice of the Anbieter didn’t quite speak to him, but he could hear its thoughts; he knew its history as surely as if he’d lived its life.
He saw its true form, so weak and fragile. Paul would have laughed if his situation wasn’t so dire. The being sensed his judgment, and he was flooded with the truth, and Paul was sure he’d never laugh again.
Paul Alenn was the vessel it had been waiting for. Conway was already aging when Paul had been taken as a child. The Provider had chosen Paul to act as its bond, and when Conway had denied the transaction, the Schattenmann took it upon itself. The Smiths were pissed when they found out, but they couldn’t do anything to stop the creature, not by the rules of the original agreement – one signed in the blood of the first sacrifice back in Germany.
Paul could feel the Anbieter’s wrath when Cliff had come for him so long ago, wrapping him in a blanket and secreting him home safe. Conway had offered it another child, his granddaughter, and the bargain was made.
He saw through the creature’s eyes as it tried to press into Paul that first day as he’d visited Red Creek twelve years ago. When he stood looking at the path at the end of the street in front of his mom’s old house and his nose bled, that was the monster seeking solace inside him. When he woke in the forest, it had drawn him there. All those years. He saw it watching him in the alley after he left the bar in college. That was the inspiration for his first novel, The Underneath.
Paul suddenly understood what the monster was: something akin to a demon, but not quite. It was of this earth, but ancient beyond his understanding. It lived by trading flesh and souls for wealth and sustenance. Conway had paid the eventual price, his cancer given by the monster inside him. Paul saw the creature watching him through a window at a book signing, his first one.
He knew, then, that his success came from the monster. It was linked to him and always had been. Since that moment he was chosen as a boy, part of the demon had lived inside him. His best-seller lists, awards, and money in the bank suddenly made him want to throw up.
He watched now as the car pulled onto his sister’s street. He knew what it wanted. The Anbieter had been injured almost beyond repair in the fire. It lost its vessels, two in a couple of weeks, and it had lain suffering outside its nest in the cold forest as snow fell around it. It had convinced Emma Smith to come home to fulfill her family’s bargain.
She finally gave in and began feeding it. Brittany Tremblay, Fredrik Karlsson, and another girl tonight. Now it wanted Stevie. Paul was the bonded Schmidt descendant, and Stevie was the sacrifice. He felt the need from the monster coursing through his veins. With the sacrifice, it would be whole again. It would be strong. It would thrive, not just survive.
Paul could tell it was going to move on, finally strong enough to venture away from Red Creek to where no one knew of it. It was going to make Paul go along, never ceasing control over Paul’s body again. Once it had Stevie, it could do anything.
The cop’s car stopped with skidding tires as Paul’s foot stomped on the brake. The door opened, and Paul felt motion sickness as he rode inside his body as a witness, not a participant.
The curtains opened, and Paul saw his wife, holding Stevie in front of her. She was crying, and Beth was running for the front door. It flew open, and Paul wanted to shout for them to run,
