Chasing Demons (Book 2) Rated R

Chapter 18

Neither of us spoke.

All we did was breathe. I glared out the window and his eyes remained fixed on the road.

Sometime later, when the dashboard clock read midnight, a sign in Romanian welcomed us into the town of Campulung.

It lay in the shadow of the Carpathian Mountains with its evergreen trees dusted with snow this time of year.

The mountains signified we were close to Reader Nation.

As we passed a church, with its terracotta shingles muted by the darkness of the night, I shivered at the thought of being back here. Dannek castle held dark memories...but it was also the place Christian had told me he loved me. The place I'd realized I loved him too.

Mentally, I slapped myself, forcing my mind to think of how quaint and lonely the strip of shops on either side of us looked with not a soul in sight.

Finally, we arrived at a blood-red two-story building, with a stone driveway.

Christian shut off the engine and for a moment neither one of us moved.

He leaned his head back against the headrest and looked at the car's ceiling. "I'm sorry, Aimee," He sighed. "That all of this is bringing you so much pain."

"I insisted on coming," I said as I pushed the car door open. "You didn't force me."

A path of foliage led to the front door and I followed it until I reached a red door with a small, golden plaque next to it.

Masline Apartments.

Christian squeezed past me to get to the door.

Inside, it was dark and cold until he flipped on a switch and the apartment flooded with warm light.

Instead of an apartment though, it was simply a cozy, two-story home that had clearly been set up as a bed and breakfast, plainly decorated, and with a scattering of plants in odd places.

I took my bag and searched each room until I found a bathroom. Shutting the door behind me, I spun and leaned against it.

I needed to clear my head.

I needed a moment where Christian's presence didn't take up my every thought, where the smell of his cologne didn't distract me.

What I really needed was a blunt.

As the bathwater ran, and steam enveloped the bathroom in a warm cloud, I set my bag down and stripped.

A silver-gilded mirror hanging over the sink caught my reflection. In it, I saw a tired face framed by black curls, that without so much as a trimming these last few months, had grown past my hips.

Violet eyes that looked more blue than violet these days. A set of lips that were pulled into a grimace.

I wondered how in the world my life had turned into this. A few months ago, I was perfectly oblivious to this world of darkness and magic. A few short weeks ago I was a daughter, a sister. I was ordinary.

I combed my hair back with my fingers and closed my eyes. After a moment, I stepped into the tub, welcoming the warmth, and taking steady breaths.

But they did nothing to quench the fire that slowly rose in me.

I was so angry.

At him, at life, at the world.

I was pissed the hell off that my thoughts couldn't even remain my own.

At Stefan, the cruel monster who'd kidnapped my family.

Rage filled me at the thought of Stefan hurting Marcy, and picturing Taylor suffering without her stuffed bear made me see red.