Following Jeremiah was as unpleasant as I expected.
He smelled awful. He tried to cover it up with some obnoxious cheap cologne, but the resulting odor was just a vile concoction of chemical musk, body odor, and ball sweat. I was certain I couldnât be the only one who smelled it, but apparently humansâ sense of smell truly was dull. The gross bastard met up with four different women throughout the course of the day, all of whom gave off instant arousal at the sight of him.
Repulsive. I wouldnât even hate-fuck the little shit.
It wasnât hard to follow him. The man had no awareness of his surroundings. His steps were loud, his voice was loud. It was like trying to follow a bull through a glass shop.
Following him took so little concentration that instead, I just kept thinking about Juniper and how it would have been far less boring to stay with her all day: listen to her talk through every thought that popped into her head. I think sheâd gotten used to talking to herself through the years; she tended to narrate her thoughts as she worked through problems. I didnât even think about fucking her; just being around her was enough as it seemed.
I mean, it was nice to think about fucking her too, but that wasnât the point.
I frowned. There it was again â that aching little soft spot sheâd wedged herself inside.
I usually left humans to their own devices once our bargain was complete. Once Iâd fulfilled my end of the deal, I had no need to see those Iâd claimed again until they died, when Iâd escort them to Hell, give them a quick run-down of the rules, and then let them figure the rest out for themselves. I was a hunter, not a babysitter.
But that irresistible drive to keep hunting, to wrap this deal up and move on to the next, wasnât there now. It was fucking weird. Had I lost my touch? Lost my drive? I was one of the most well-known soul hunters in Hell because I was prolific â I made good deals, I finished them quickly, and I kept a steady stream of souls marching through Hellâs gates.
Iâd never planned on meeting a human who made me feel like changing that. A human that had me so interested even her soul didnât feel like enough.
Why the fuck wasnât her soul enough? What more did I want?
At least once darkness fell and the dayâs last classes were done, things got a little more interesting.
Jeremiah left campus in a Dodge Challenger, the engine rumbling all the way down the road. He headed for the bay, parked in a lot not far from the water, and walked back along the shore. Beyond a thick grove of trees, a bonfire had been lit on an isolated beach. Five people were already there, drinking beers and blasting music from a speaker stuck in the sand. I watched from the trees, out of sight in the shadows.
âHey, J Boss, weâve been waiting for you!â one of them called to Jeremiah as he arrived, offering him a beer. Jeremiah greeted them all as he began to drink, boring small talk droning on until he took a seat on a massive old log near the fire. Clearly the others regarded him as important. They all shut up once he started talking.
âAlright, first things first,â he said, tossing his empty can away. âDo you have the box, Nick?â
âYessir,â Nick drawled. He brought over a cardboard box, dirty and stained as if it had been buried. âEverything is still in there.â
âAre you sure you should take that back, J?â a blonde woman spoke up, wrinkling her nose as Jeremiah took the box. âLike, isnât it a risk for you?â
Jeremiah laughed as he opened the box. âTrust me, the pigs arenât looking for Marcus Kynesâ killer. Now that the journalists donât care, neither do they. I can take back my mementos in peace.â
Jeremiah withdrew something from the box that caught the firelight: a large knife, wrapped in plastic, the blade still stained with blood.
âI should make a shadowbox of this shit,â he said. âPut it right next to the soccer trophies.â
The blood was old enough that I couldnât smell it anymore, and realization dawned on me. One of the other men laughed, a little nervously.
âThatâs kinda gross, man. Just saying. You should leave that buried ââ
âExcuse me?â Jeremiah was on his feet, and the nervous laughter instantly died. âWhat did you say, Tommy? You wanna repeat that?â
Tommy glanced around, blinking slowly. The woman at his side took a few steps back as Jeremiah got in his face. âYou think I should bury this, Tommy? Just bury it and let everyone forget what I accomplished?â
Tommy hurriedly shook his head. âNoâ¦no, man, of course notâ¦â
âNo one gets to forget this,â Jeremiah said, smiling widely, as he pulled the plastic off the knife. âNo one in the Libiri gets to forget I did what Dad couldnât do. What Victoria couldnât do.â He held up the knife, right against Tommyâs throat. âI made the first sacrifice. It was all me. I bled Marcus like Godâs sweet little lamb.â He turned slowly, pointing the blade at each person, one by one. âIâll kill the next lamb, and Iâll kill the final one too. God demanded one Hadleigh live, and one Hadleigh die, and I promise you I wonât be the one dying. I serve by living.â
âThatâs how itâs meant to be,â the blonde woman said quickly. âVictoria keeps saying sheâs having dreams, hearing Godâs voice.â She smirked victoriously as Jeremiah approached her. âVictoria knows sheâs the one whoâs meant to die. And J is meant to lead.â
âThatâs right, sweetheart,â Jeremiah said, and grasped her face like he was praising a puppy. âVictoria knows what sheâs meant for. Dad canât see it yet, but heâll come around. Itâs all about Godâs will.â
Fuck, he had them eating out of his hand. It had been Jeremiahâs doing to kill Marcus â in a bid to prove he shouldnât be sacrificed himself. He was planning his own sisterâs death. And that girl, Raelynn, was meant to be a sacrifice, too.
That meant the Libiri had all their kills lined up, easily accessible. It meant they were far too close to achieving their final goal.
If all three sacrifices were made, and the God was unleashed, Juniperâs revenge was out of the question. Humanity would be out of the question. Earth would be lost entirely.
The clock was ticking a lot faster than Iâd thought.
âNow, what about Everly?â Her name wrenched my attention back. Jeremiah was seated again, the blonde woman right next to him, her head resting on his shoulder. âHave any of you heard anything? Seen anything?â
Everyone exchanged uncertain looks before shaking their heads. The woman said, âHer phone is turned off. She blocked me on everything.â
Jeremiah looked at her sharply. âWhyâd she block you? Did you run your mouth and tell her something?â
âNo!â The woman shook her head. âOf course not, I wouldnât do that! Sheâs just a paranoid weirdoâ¦she always wasâ¦â
âYeah, thatâs the problem,â Jeremiah muttered. âShe had to go and throw away all we did for her, after how fucking nice we were.â He shook his head. âShe belongs with the Libiri. If you see anything, if you hear anything, you bring it directly to me. Not my dad. Not Victoria. Me. Got it?â
They all nodded. Iâd heard all I needed to.