Page 111 of Into the Dark, We Go
Nick let out a long sigh, the kind of sigh people give when they’re explaining the same thing for the hundredth time, but to an audience that hadn’t been paying attention.
"The book June borrowed talks about how people used to make sacrifices to get what they wanted. It’s like cellular apoptosis in biology, where the body programs a cell to die for the greater good. The occult works on a similar principle—sacrifice something valuable to gain something beneficial."
June’s eyes widened. "So, her death—sorry, Nell," she shot a quick glance my way, "is a good thing?"
Nick’s jaw tightened. "No, of course not. But the process is already in motion. If it’s reversed, the results could be unpredictable. Dangerous. That’s why Robert would never crack. They’re using her as a sacrifice so they can get what they want."
"And what do they want?" Mitch asked.
"How should I know?"
"You get how crazy this sounds, right?" Mitch shook his head.
"I do. And yet, here we are." There was a brief silence. "Whatever it is they want from that thing in the woods, someone has to pay for it. Because if it’s not paid, they might be putting themselves in danger. And this is why we need to go after the book and not after them."
"How do you know all that?"
"I read a lot," Nick said sarcastically. "You should try it sometime."
"Oh my god, stop!" I buried my face in my hands, exasperated. "We can start with Mathilda. We can either kill her or make her talk. At this point, I don’t give a shit."
Nick and Mitchell exchanged a tense glance.
"You’re right," Mitch said with a curt dip of his head. "Let’s go."
In the car, Mitchell outlined the plan. "We go in, ask our questions, and get out. No drama, no fuss. We can’t afford to draw more attention to ourselves."
And, of course, that’s exactly how it went.
30
Chapter Thirty
September, 2020
Mitchell gavethe second gun to his sister, probably so she could defend herself if things went south. I understood, but it still felt unfair. I was the one in pain, vulnerable, and unarmed.
The "Closed" sign on the locked door didn’t stop us when we reached Mathilda’s store. Mitchell led us around to the back entrance. Also locked. He pulled out a credit card and started working the latch, but the lock wasn’t cooperating.
While he was meddling with it, June spotted a large stone on the ground. Before we all realized what she was doing, she hurled it through the window. Glass shattered with a piercing crash.
"June!" Mitch was aghast, but she ignored him. She climbed in, unlocked the door from the inside, and waved us in like it was nothing.
Nick closed his eyes, exasperated, but said nothing. Mitchell shot June another glare, but she either didn’t notice or didn’t care. We entered the storage area, off-limits to customers,packed with goods shipped from China, as indicated by the labels on the boxes. So much for "your local vendor."
Mitchell raised a hand, his ears tuned to the house. All was quiet. He signaled us to search. And search we did, leaving no stone unturned and no care for the mess. Within minutes, the room looked like a mini-tornado had ripped through it.
"Trespassin’, property dam—" Mathilda’s sarcastic remarks were interrupted by a deafening sound as June spun and fired the gun she’d been holding in her hand. A row of delicate figurines exploded, and the bullet lodged deep into the wall. I yelped, my heart hammering, and clamped my hands over my ears. June had done the same, the gun still in her hand, her eyes wide with shock.
Mathilda flinched, but recovered fast. She surveyed the destruction with a slow, disapproving click of her tongue. "You break it, you buy it. And it looks like you’re about to buy a lot."
"June, put the fucking gun down!" Mitchell snapped.
She lowered it, shaken.
I stepped forward, my voice trembling with adrenaline-fueled rage. "Tell us everything you know about Robert and the grimoire."
Mathilda’s gaze flew to me, her expression softening as she really looked. "What happened to you?" she asked and then paused. Her eyes widened with realization.
