“When I was collecting the water, the Devil appeared next to me! Half his face was normal, and the rest was… there was something wrong with it! It was the Devil!” the little girl babbled between wrenching sobs.

  “I’m sure you were just seeing things, darling,” her mother said soothingly. “Now, hush. You know the men don’t like it when girls are loud.”

  “But I saw him!”

  “You wait right here. I’ll go and get your bucket, and I’ll show you there’s nothing over there.”

  The young woman began to head over to where her daughter had dropped the water. I crawled back into the forest and lay flat again, covering my head with a large frond.

  A moment later, I heard crunching footsteps. They eventually faded away, and then I heard the young woman’s voice again. “See? There’s nothing there. Everything is fine. Now go back inside, darling. Time for your bath.”

  I waited for several minutes to make sure no one else was close. Then I began to creep forward again. When I reached the first house on the edge of the village, I spotted three young women sitting by a little fire behind the building. They were so close I could hear almost every word of their conversation.

  “Is she really the Prophet’s daughter?” one of them asked the others.

  The oldest-looking one nodded. “That’s what they said.”

  I froze. They were obviously talking about Jolie. Right now I had no idea where they were keeping her—I could only assume she was somewhere in the distant mansion—so anything I gleaned from their conversation could come in handy.

  “I don’t understand where she has been all this time,” the third girl said. “When I was brought here, the men said this is the only safe place in the world for females.”

  Her English was very slow and stilted, but I could only presume every girl and woman here had been told not to speak their first language unless they wanted a severe beating. Most of the cult men only knew English, so if they heard Spanish or any other languages, they might assume the girls were plotting against them.

  “I asked my husband yesterday,” said the older one. “He said she’s been in Hell with the Devil, her true master. The Prophet made a deal with him so that she could be returned to us for proper punishment.”

  “Do you believe that?” the youngest girl asked timidly. “I saw her when she arrived. She didn’t look evil.”

  The other one leaned forward. “I don’t believe it, and neither should you,” she said in a hushed tone. “But we can’t ever let them know that. You’ve seen what they do to the bad girls, haven’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then keep your mouth shut and stay near the houses, okay? If any of the men see you anywhere near the punishment huts while she’s here, they might accuse you of being infected by her dark magic.”

  I glanced over to the thatched cabins I spotted earlier. From what the girl had just said, it sounded as if Jolie was being kept in one of them.

  I crept back into the forest and made my way to the nearest cabin. It was dark inside, but the neighboring cabin was glowing with candlelight. Using a side wall of the first one as a shield, I peeked around and looked through the window.

  Danny Miller was standing there with nothing but a shirt on, leaning over a table and stroking his ugly pink cock. Jolie was on the table before him, naked and restrained. Her arms were stuck behind her at an awkward angle, held fast by cuffs attached to a wooden rod, and her legs had been forced wide open by a long spreader bar. On either side of the bar were metal restraints made up of sharp spiked teeth and two hinges. Judging by the blood running down Jolie’s thighs, the cruel device was designed to stop her from trying to close her legs. Every time she moved, the restraints tightened and the spikes bit into her skin harder and harder.

  The rest of her body was covered with cuts and bruises, and her left eye was purple and swollen. Rage burned in my throat at the sight.

  My heartbeat thundered in my ears as I dropped my pack, rushed around and crashed through the door. Danny whirled around and opened his mouth, but he didn’t get a single word out before I lifted my gun and fired off three rounds, making his head explode in a mist of blood, bone and gray matter. The gunshots made heavy popping sounds, but the suppressor on the barrel muffled most of the noise. No one beyond the cabin would’ve heard a thing.

  Danny’s body teetered and crumpled to the floor, right into the mess of blood and gore that used to be his head.

  “Mason!” Jolie cried out, making an attempt to inch forward on the table so she could be closer to me.

  “Don’t move, baby girl,” I said, shutting the door behind me. “Not until I get you out of that shit.”

  Tears streamed down her bruised face as I wrenched the restraints off her thighs and arms. There were nasty-looking clamps attached to her nipples, too. I reached forward and carefully unclipped them, my other hand stroking her marred skin in soft, soothing movements. She’d been tortured terribly, but she was alive. That was something to be grateful for, no matter how horrifying the sight of her bleeding, tormented figure was to me.

  “You came,” she whispered, staring up into my eyes.

  “Of course I fucking came,” I growled, pulling her into a tight embrace.

  Her shoulders trembled like crazy. “How did you find me?”

  “Long story. I’ll tell you later. Right now, I need to get you out of here,” I said. “Do you have any clothes?”

  She looked at a bloodstained dress which lay on the floor next to Danny’s body. “That’s all I have.”

  “It’s better than nothing. Put it on.”

  She nodded and shakily dressed. “I think there are other girls here,” she said as she buttoned up the front.

  “I know. Don’t worry, I’m going to get them out too.”

  Jolie’s cracked lips turned up in a faint smile. “Of course you are,” she murmured. “I can’t believe you actually found me. You’re amazing.”

  “I’m not amazing. I just fucking love you,” I said, reaching out to tuck a strand of damp hair behind her ear.

  “I love y—” She stopped short, her smile instantly fading. “Oh, shit.”

  I heard the door open behind me as she spoke. Before I could spin around and assess the threat, someone clubbed me over the back of the head with a thick metal bar. A spurt of blood gushed onto the floor in front of me, and my knees weakened as my vision blurred.

  “Mason!” Jolie screamed.

  I tried to reach for her as shadowy arms pulled her into their clutches, but the whole world seemed to be turning dark and hazy as it spun wildly around me, fading more and more with every passing second.

  Then it all went black.

  14

  Jolie

  “I thought we might find him here. Shame about Danny, though.”

  My father sighed as he glanced down at the two motionless bodies on the floor. I sank to my knees, sobbing and cradling Mason’s bleeding head.

  “How did you know he’d be here?” someone asked, ignoring my pitiful cries.

  “Jolie mentioned something to me a couple of days ago. Said he wouldn’t stop until he found her. I wasn’t too worried, but I thought I’d call our friends in America and have them check up on him just in case. Lo and behold, I discovered he’d booked a ticket to Costa Rica. I didn’t think he’d actually be able to find us out here, but then one of the other men overheard a child saying she saw the Devil earlier—a man with one normal side and one messed up side. I knew it was the bastard right away.”

  “How’d he find us?”

  “No fucking idea.”

  Someone aimed a sharp kick at my ribs. I keeled over, letting out a winded grunt.

  “How did Mason find us?” my father asked, crouching down and staring at me with narrowed eyes.

  “I don’t know,” I choked out, clutching at my aching abdomen.

  “Was he alone?”

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “Good.” My father stood up again. “He isn’t dead, is he?” he asked one of his cultist cronies.

  One of the men leaned down and pushed me aside so he could check Mason’s pulse. “No, sir. He’s just unconscious.”

  “Good. I want him alive for now.” My father nodded crisply. “Tie him up and take him outside. And you two—grab her.”

  Two men stepped forward and dragged me to my feet. “No!” I screamed, trying to dig my feet into the floor to stop them from moving me. “Don’t hurt him!”

  “You should be more concerned about yourself,” my father hissed in my ear as he grabbed me by the collar of my bloodstained dress. He tilted his face toward the men who’d taken hold of my arms. “Take her to the square and build up the pyre. I think it’s time we had ourselves a bonfire.”

  My eyes bulged as my breaths turned short and raspy with terror. “You said I had until Sunday!” I cried.

  “That was before your boyfriend showed up and tried to ruin things for us again,” he replied, eyes glittering with malice. “I’m not risking it anymore. You both die tonight.”

  “No!” I shrieked and kicked my feet out as two other men tied Mason’s hands behind his back and dragged him toward the door. “You can kill me, but please… let him go!”

  “You must be joking.” My father scoffed and waved a hand at his subordinates.

  The sound of my heartbeat thrashed in my ears as the men pulled me out of the cabin and dragged me toward the tall wooden pole that stood on one side of the square. The area was filling up with people already—men, women and children who’d come out to see what was causing all the commotion.

  Some of the young women flashed me sympathetic looks, but none of them moved a muscle to help me. I didn’t blame them. I used to be one of them. I knew exactly what it was like to know something was deeply wrong yet remain quiet and motionless for fear of incurring the same punishment. It wasn’t their fault.

  The men kept pulling me along, feet dragging against the stony ground with every step it took to get me to the stake. Adrenaline flooded my system as they forced me to step onto a small granite platform right in front of it. Then they turned me around and shoved my back against the wooden pole, quickly lashing my hands to it with thick rope.

  My heart felt like it might explode and my eyes were wide with fear. Not only for myself, but for Mason too. The other men had brought him out here on my father’s command, and they’d propped him up against a wooden bench facing the stake. His hands were still tied behind his back and the side of his face was coated with blood.

  Someone kicked him, but he didn’t stir. Saliva thickened in my throat as beads of sweat trickled down my brow, and I almost vomited as I imagined what the men had in store for him when he finally awoke. He’d put himself in so much danger to try and save me, and now he was paying the ultimate price.

  “I’m sorry,” I called out, hoping he’d somehow hear me despite his lack of consciousness.

  “As you should be,” my father said, clasping his hands together as he stared at me from the side of the square.

  I didn’t bother responding. There was no point, and he wasn’t worth it.

  He shouted some more commands at the gathered people, and most of them scattered. They began to filter back into the square a few minutes later, arms laden with logs, long sticks, and dried grass.

  “That should be enough,” I heard one of the men say. “Start building the pyre now.” He turned to my father. “Should we light it as soon as it’s done?”

  “Not yet.” My father pressed his lips into a thin line. “We’ll wait for Mr. Ashwood to wake up first, so he can watch his precious girl meet the same fate as his family.”

  “And then?”

  “Then we do the same to him.” He cocked his head to the right and sighed. “I should’ve just killed him eight years ago. I had no idea he’d wind up being such a thorn in our side.”

  “Should I alert the rest of the men?”

  My father’s lips curled into a nasty grin. “I already sent someone to the mansion to let everyone know. They should arrive for the show any minute now.”

  I swallowed a mouthful of bile as several men worked around me, building an enormous pyre below my feet with all the sticks and dried grass they gathered earlier. A gust of wind suddenly blew through the area and sent some of the grass flying off the edge. One of the men turned and slapped a young woman for not catching it all right away, as if she was supposed to psychically know the breeze was coming.

  She gathered up the strewn grass and brought it back over to the pyre. “Please forgive me,” she whispered at me as she dumped it back down, eyes wide and fearful.

  I nodded briefly, not wanting to get her in trouble by actually speaking to her. She nodded back. Then she turned and stepped away, hiding her face with her thick mass of dark curls.

  Even though I was the one who was about to die, I couldn’t help but feel more pity for her and all the others here. My execution would be agonizing, but at least it would be over by the end of the night. These girls would have to spend their entire lives in suffering here, trapped in this secluded mountain valley with a hundred cruel, inhuman men who would only ever view them as sex slaves to be used and abused every single day.

  I swallowed thickly and returned my gaze to Mason. I wanted his face to be the last thing I ever saw. Scarred or not, it was the most beautiful sight I’d ever laid my eyes on. I had no idea how anyone could ever think otherwise.

  All of a sudden, one of his legs twitched, and his head moved slightly to the left.

  “He’s waking up,” someone called out.

  My father smiled. “Good. Light the fire.”

  Three men splashed lighter fluid all over the pyre. Another held up a box of matches, lips twisted into a smirk as he stepped forward. My insides felt hollow as a flame flared to life in his fingers a moment later.

  “Wait.” My father held up a hand. “I think I’ll do it myself this time.”

  The man looked disappointed, but he handed the lit match over anyway, obviously knowing better than to defy his leader. My father tossed it forward and watched with a fascinated gaze as orange flames immediately raced up the long sticks below my feet, eager to devour the offering.

  The fire flickered and crackled wildly in the breeze as it grew, flaming forked tongues creeping closer and closer to the platform with every passing second. My father stepped back and smiled. “Goodbye, Jolie.”

  15

  Mason

  Pain throbbed in my head, deep and hot, like someone had their hand inside my skull and was squeezing my brain as hard as they could.

  I did my best to peel my eyes open, breathing slow and deep as I attempted to figure out why my head felt like it was trapped in a vise. Try as I might to access my memories, I couldn’t remember or make sense of anything. I had no idea where I was or what had happened to me.

  With a grunt, I forced myself to open my eyes wider, trying to dispel the fog from my vision and my mind. A fire crackled somewhere near me, casting warmth and light on the surrounding area. The glowing embers moved in rhythm with the flames below, swaying and dipping in the breeze. Thick curls of gray smoke billowed upward.

  I knew where I was now. Amiens. February 2011. I’d just been thrown out of my car after an explosion, and the world was on fire around me. I was on fire.

  My mind whirled as my head lolled backward. I couldn’t move my arms properly. I must’ve been paralyzed when I was thrown clear of the destroyed vehicle. “Help,” I muttered, my eyes drooping shut again.

  “Goodbye, Jolie,” I heard someone say, voice crisp and elegant.

  Jolie?

  My eyes snapped open. With a jolt, my brain regained proper function. This wasn’t Amiens. This wasn’t 2011. This was now, in a remote Costa Rican valley, and I wasn’t on fire. Someone else was.

  My head jerked up. I squinted at the fire ahead of me. Blood pounded in my ears as I caught sight of Jolie standing on a platform in the center of the flames. Her face was contorted with fear, and her arms were tied to a stake behind her. The flames hadn’t yet reached her feet as they licked their way up the pyre, but they would soon.

  Adrenaline rushed through my blood. I tried to jump up, but my hands were restrained behind me with thick rope. Fuck.

  Two men sat on either side of me, eyes gleaming with malevolent fascination as they watched the fire grow. One of them had taken the gun I used on Danny earlier. It was resting right on his lap, only inches away. If I could just grab it…

  Gritting my teeth, I twisted my left hand at an angle and then jerked it in the opposite direction. There was a sickly crack as my thumb dislocated, making just enough space for my hand to slip out of the rope. The initial surge of pain quickly ebbed away, dulled by flooding adrenaline, and I yanked my left hand out of my bonds. Once it was unfettered, I reached behind myself and freed my right hand too.

  It wouldn’t be easy for me to shoot one-handed, but with my left hand mostly out of order now, I would have to do my best.

  In one swift movement, I jabbed my elbow into the solar plexus of the distracted guard to my right. He let out a surprised grunt and keeled forward. I grabbed my gun as it slid off his lap and shot him right in the back of the head, followed by the guard on my left. Then, with a guttural roar, I leapt up and dashed toward the fire.

  “What the hell?” I heard Jacob shout from somewhere to the left of the pyre. “Stop him, you fucking idiots!”

  Several men rushed at me as women and children scattered in every direction. None of them slowed me down. I dodged and weaved through the innocent people and put bullets in the guilty ones, and I drew closer to the fire with each fallen body.

  I suppose I should be grateful that none of the men had guns on them down here, because it made my job a hell of a lot easier. It was a pitfall of their presumption and arrogance—they obviously assumed no one would ever find them out here in this isolated place, and without the threat of intruders, they had no need for weapons or security in the little village. As for the women and children, they were kept under control via fear. No bullets required.

 

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