Torin bristled, readying for attack.

God damn it. I wanted to throttle the shithead myself, but we couldn’t afford to fight amongst ourselves right now. We had greater enemies to defeat and too much at stake.

“What do you want us to do?” I asked, my voice cold and emotionless.

“I ... Fuck, I don’t even know.” He shook his head, his gaze on the floor. “I asked my dad ...”

My brows quirked. “And?”

Torin swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “He didn’t really say, other than we have to stick together to try to save Sierra.”

Enzo scoffed. “Easier said than done.”

Tor’s resentful glace went sideways at Salvatore, but he kept his mouth shut.

“What else,” I asked harshly, feeling there was more to Murphy’s story.

“He said we need to do what my ancestors couldn’t. But I don’t know how. And we have to find her first.”

“Well, you’ve already fucked that up. What your ancestors did was betray her. Your job, apparently, was to not do that.”

Tor flinched as if Enzo had punched him, and to my surprise, only hung his head rather than fight back. My shoulders dropped, as did my anger. Tor was hurting, that was clear.

“Listen, we can’t stay here much longer,” Riley spoke up. “Sooner or later either Maroni or your parents are going to come back, and we need to find Sierra before then.”

Enzo punched the fireplace mantel, muttering curses under his breath.

Torin pushed his hands through his hair, frustration and worry etched into his face.

My head hurt from the thoughts of Sierra - of wanting her and worrying about what she might become. “What if she’s not possessed?” I asked.

Tor rubbed his head and stopped to glare at me. “Then she kills us all.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “Or worse,” he added, then turned away.

Worse? I guess the fact that she would not only be killing us, but our families as well. That didn’t mean much to me, and probably not Enzo either - our families were shit. But the Quinns? Tor’s parents?

But what if she wasn’t? What if she was meant to be our Reaper, like in the damned fucking Murphy curse?

We were all thinking it, I could tell.

She’d saved our worthless asses so many times already.

But what if she couldn’t save us from ourselves?

Or what if she could?

I felt the weight of my friends’ gazes. The weight of Enzo’s prophesy ... of Murphy’s curse.

Of the damned, seductive and dangerous dark souls that possessed us and increased our power.

We were lost.

Had been lost and scared for a long time, willing to do anything to survive. Even if that meant hurting Sierra.

But none of us wanted that now. And none of us could admit it out loud.

Tor stalked over to the bar and poured himself a drink. He downed it in a gulp, Adam’s apple bobbing as the amber liquid scored a path down his throat.

“She’s everything we need,” he said simply. “The one who might save us all - whether through dark magic or light.”

“Or destroy us,” Rye added quietly.

Torin nodded. “I know.” He slammed the glass onto the counter, cracking the heavy glass bottom. “But we have to try.”

“Try what?” Enzo scoffed. “You’ve already tried enough.”

“I think we need to try to find her first. Then see how she is and go from there. We have options,” I said.

“Options.” There was a world of scorn and resignation in Enzo’s reply.

Our options were stay on the dark side and hope she’d be with us, let her kill us if she wasn’t, or ... try to rid ourselves of the demons possessing us and allow Sierra to cleanse our souls, with no guarantee it would work.

A ripple of unease passed under my skin, familiar and frightening. The others’ eyes grew wide, and I knew they felt it too, especially when their pupils blew out and a flash of black obliterated the whites. I’d barely had time to breathe before the pain hit, driving me to my knees. Shouts filled the room as Riley, Torin, and Enzo followed, the decanter crashing on the floor as they went down.

I screamed, clutching my head in agony as pain and horror poured through me. Visions of my friends, eyes vacant and bodies broken, Sierra laughing as she disintegrated their souls while I lay frozen, awaiting my turn. The Unconsecrated feasting on our corpses.

Then it was gone, leaving us pale and shaking on the floor. Tor’s face was sickly white, like he’d been kneed in the balls. Enzo shook his head, disbelief and anger at war on his face. Riley clutched his stomach, his gaze distant, as if he was seeing something I couldn’t.

It had been a warning. The Dark Ones would not let us go easily. They lived and moved through us, gave us our power. And in exchange, we’d promised them our lives. And the lives of others.

We were all too afraid to speak. Afraid to voice our doubts. Afraid to make it real. But we knew it was there, in the shadows of our minds.

We stood shakily, like foals finding their legs. In unspoken agreement, we left the broken bottle and glass where they lay, stalking down the halls of the mansion as our footsteps echoed. I didn’t know where we’d go, but we had to get out of there. Get some air. Some space between us and the wreck that was the Warner cemetery with its evil spirits.

Torin cracked the tension from his neck, and we all looked at each other, not knowing what else to do. We were well and truly fucked. Silently, we’d agreed to wait, to figure shit out once we either found her or she returned on her own - if either thing ever happened.

“Safe house?” I suggested.

“I need to check on my parents,” Riley said, then left without another word.

“Same,” said Tor, disappearing after him.

I looked at Enzo, hoping at least he’d stay with me, but he shook his head.

“I got shit to do.”

Feeling gut-punched, I watched him them go, leaving me more alone than I’d ever been.

CHAPTER 7