Our Demonic Hearts - The Craven Pact Book 1

Chapter 4 - Induction

Ana stepped away from him until her back hit the tool rack, metal clanging against metal. Her heart lurched into her throat as realization dawned upon her. Beau quickly set the plate aside and stood, clutching his stomach.

"Wait, please just listen—"

"Stay away from me," Ana breathed, her heart starting to pound in her chest. She glanced at the large barn doors, wondering how long it would take for her to get back to the house and summon Marchosias.

He raised his hands in a silent plea. "I just want to talk. I promise Judas isn't here—"

"I don't care! Get away from me before I summon my father!" Ana yelled, raising a hand in defense.

He looked at her, confused. "Summon your—" He looked around the barn and where Ana was standing, and took a few steps back. "I'm not here to hurt you."

"The last time I saw you, you did. You tried to kill me in your basement. You, your father, Judas. You tried to steal my core for yourself, my father told me so!"

"Your father—" He quickly shook his head. "No, I didn't want to, remember? I didn't—"

He stopped talking, and took a good look at Ana. His eyes concentrated on the left side of her face, a confused look in his eye. "You...you don't remember what happened, do you?"

She raised her head high, trying her best not to show her fear. "Of course I don't remember what happened six fucking years ago! You think I would remember something like that? Besides, I don't need to. My father told me what happened."

He raised his eyebrows. "You trust his every word?"

She faltered. Do I trust his every word?  After the incident, Marchosias had told her what happened. The Motloes captured her and attempted to kill her to steal her core, the very source of her magic and being. Beau was the one to capture her. She often had dreams of a dark monster chasing her through a forest, and it took years for them to go away.

She thought back to only a few days ago when Marchosias told her the Motloes were still alive, after years of telling her they were dead. He had lied before, but it was to console her. Make her worry less that they would come back and kill her in the night. That had to of been the reason.

"I trust him better than I trust you." She finally replied.

He thinned his lips. "That's a mistake. If you remembered that night, you wouldn't say the same."

She scowled. "I don't care what you have to say." Her hand reached behind her and took hold of a sickle hanging on the rack. "Get out of here before I summon my father. Now!"

He flinched, and looked away. "Please, just listen to what I have to say—"

"No," She shook her head. "Get out, and don't come back."

He started walking to the door, his hands still raised.  "I just have a request, just one. In exchange, I'll tell you what happened. Just consider it, please. I'm staying at the motel just outside of town—you can find me there."

She didn't answer. She held the sickle to her side, the blade reflecting the morning light streaming through the broken ceiling. He glanced at it before returning his eyes to her. "I'm sorry. For everything that has happened between us."

He left the barn, and Ana waited a few seconds before sinking to the dirt floor. She dropped the sickle and held her face in her hands. She had just saved a man from bleeding out on her front porch without knowing it was Beau Motloe. She felt like a fool. Why hadn't she recognized him? Now that she thought of it, all of the Motloes' faces were a blur, even Mrs. Motloe, the kind woman who had nothing to do with the rest of her family's problems.