Page 151 of The Devil's Trials

Scott meets my gaze. “If you don’t bring both of my daughters back unharmed, I will make you wish you stayed in hell. I will torture you until you cannot stand to live a moment longer, and then I’ll keep going. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

I bristle at the threat, but nod at Camille’s father. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He releases a heavy breath. “It’s time to carve the turkey.”

After dinner, Camille walks me to the front door. “I don’t want you to leave, but I’m more than a little worried that my mom will dagger you in your sleep if you stay here.”

I chuckle softly, putting on my boots and jacket. “I’d rather not push my luck.” I cup her cheek, brushing my thumb back and forth. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow. Try to get some rest, okay?”

She nods, catching her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment before releasing it. “You too,” she murmurs, pressing a hand to my chest over my heart. “I love you, Xander.”

I tilt her chin up and dip my face to press a soft kiss against her lips. “I love you.”

The cold December air assaults my face as I step outside, shivering against it as I walk from the house to my car.

I slide into the driver’s seat and exhale an uneven breath as I sit in the dark, gripping the cold steering wheel. The silence of the car only makes my pounding heart louder, and no matter how tightly I clench my hands into fists, they won’t stop shaking.

Looking back at the house, I’m gripped with such an intense sensation. It makes my palms damp and my head dizzy as my thoughts race and scatter all over the place. Dread coils deep in my gut as realization hits me. The sensation I’m experiencing…It’sfear.

THIRTY-EIGHTCAMILLE

Once Xander is gone, I find my parents in the living room with glasses of wine. They put a movie on the TV, but I don’t think either of them is paying much attention to it, not that I can blame them.

“I’m going to bed,” I announce, sleep deprivation clinging to my words and making my voice deeper. “Love you guys.”

They both look at me, their expressions giving away just how tired they are, too.

Today was emotionally exhausting for all of us.

Dad gets up and wraps me in a tight hug, kissing the top of my head. “I love you, Camille.” He steps aside so Mom can hug me next.

It’s been some time since I experienced this kind of affection from my parents, and while I recognize it’s closely tied to the fear of what I’m doing tomorrow, I’m not going to take it for granted.

“Love you, honey.”

I manage a small smile at her before turning to go upstairs.

“Camille?” Mom says, and I turn around. “Are you sure about this?”

My brows inch closer. “Of course, I am.”

She releases a breath, nodding. “Okay.” And then she goes back to the couch and picks up her wineglass again.

Dad sends me a supportive look paired with a smile, and I give him a subtle nod of acknowledgment before I walk out of the living room.

I toss and turn all night, drifting off to restless sleep for short periods every hour or so. I feel even worse the next morning than what I did going to bed the night before.

Xander arrives shortly after I get up, coming to the door. He’s dressed equally formal as he was yesterday in black slacks and a dress shirt under his coat. He comes inside briefly to greet my parents, and after that awkward encounter, we’re off.

I wish I could fall asleep when the car starts moving, but I’m too wired—and terrified. I know there are consequences to what I’m doing, likely bigger than I can imagine now, but my mind is made up.

I will do whatever it takes to bring my sister back.

Sacrifice whatever I must to save her from the torture she’s endured far too long already.

“I can take it away,” Xander murmurs.

I angle myself toward him, licking the dryness from my lips. “What are you talking about?”