Ace pulled Sarah down just as the window exploded inward, shards of glass raining like ice. A pale arm snaked through the broken frame, fingers long, gray, and slick with rain. It clawed wildly, searching for flesh.
Ace fired once.
The creature screamed—a shrill, hollow sound that wasn't quite human. The arm vanished into the night.
He shoved the bed against the window, barricading it, then turned to Sarah. Her cheek was cut, blood trickling, but she didn't seem to notice. She was staring at the window. At where he had been.
"Tell me what he is," Ace demanded.
She swallowed. "I thought he was dead."
"I figured that much."
"I didn't just bury him. I—" Her voice caught. "He tried to kill me. Said we were bound. I stabbed him, left him in the woods. But he… whispered something. A name. A curse. I thought he was just raving."
Ace stared at her. "What name?"
Her lips barely moved. "Mine."
Ace's jaw tightened. "Then this isn't just about revenge. He's bound to you."
She nodded. "And now he's following the scent."
"Then we sever the bond," he said, calm but cold. "Or we sever his head."
Sarah looked at him—really looked.
"You're not scared," she whispered.
"I'm terrified," he replied. "But I'm better when I'm scared."
Thunder rumbled low and long outside. Rain poured in through the broken window. The house was no longer a sanctuary. It was a trap. A battlefield.
"You'll have to help me," she said. "The binding isn't just blood—it's memory. Pain. I have to face it. All of it."
Ace's expression softened, if only for a moment. "Then you won't face it alone."
He reached into the wall safe again and pulled out something older than any weapon she'd ever seen—a rusted silver dagger, engraved with a symbol that shimmered faintly.
Sarah blinked. "You kept it."
"You gave it to me the night you left," Ace said. "Told me to use it if I ever saw you again."
"And now?"
"I'm hoping we'll need it for him instead."