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now, and then they could relocate tomorrow. As always, it mysteriously provided when the bargain was met. She saw a log inn as the image zoomed out, and a full parking lot.

It was promising a successful business there. Could Emma do that? What next? Where would the next sacrifice come from? From the guests staying at her establishment? Could she ask the creature for money in a bank account, or was that beyond its limited powers?

Emma didn’t get a chance to ask it as the car door opened. The whole town was under a curfew, no children allowed out after eight. It was far later than that, but she saw a girl on a bicycle heading toward them.

“No no nonononononono,” she muttered through gritted teeth, but the Anbieter wasn’t listening.

She was moving now, her sore hip aching as the creature pushed her forward. It was inside her, working her body like a puppeteer, and she felt the blood dripping from her nose again, like it always did. The girl on the bike had to be around eleven or twelve, and she rode by Emma, giving the old lady a smile.

She rang a bell and kept riding down the street. Emma let out a sigh of relief, but the creature didn’t seem to think twice about the escaping meal. The Watsons’ house was right there. She glanced to it, her head moving in quick jerks like an animal’s. She sniffed the air and felt a growl emerge from her throat. The boy was inside.

The bell rang again, and the curtains opened from the house’s living room window. Two women were looking directly at her, and the demon forced her to avert her gaze, to continue walking down the block. When the curtains closed, it had her cross the street. The girl on the bicycle was there again, and Emma went to her car.

With a last glance at the house where the boy of their blood was hidden away inside, she opened the car’s trunk. Her voice felt distant and unfamiliar as she heard herself speak, and the little kid slowed her bike.

“Hello, dear. I’m afraid I’m lost. I’m supposed to be visiting my son, and I can’t find his house,” Emma said, her head turned from the girl as she wiped her nose with a sleeve again. She wanted to shout for the girl to run, but she couldn’t.

“I can help. What’s his name? I pretty much know everyone on the block, and most of the few over.” Emma turned to her, seeing a happy, self-assured kid. The old lady’s arm snapped out like a snake and gripped the thin wrist, pulling her off the bike. With minimal effort, she threw the spindly child into the trunk, shutting it quickly and quietly.

Small fists banged against the inside of the trunk as Emma got into the driver’s seat, crying now. That was one thing the Anbieter, the Provider, couldn’t stop her from doing, and it was irritated with her lack of commitment. She could feel its annoyance as the car engine fired to life, and she started driving.

Emma glanced at the initial target’s house and saw the curtains open again. When she glanced to the rearview mirror, all that was left was a bike in the middle of the road. Her eyes were black and misty, her smile covered in blood.

_______________

“Dad, we’ve been out here for almost an hour, and it’s pouring. We need to go to the orchard,” Taylor said. She was soaked and was regretting ever coming back to Red Creek more with each passing second. Brent had been so awesome this whole weekend, and she watched as he moved his flashlight beam around the forest, searching for a sign of...what? A shadow? A nightmare?

Her dad was a few yards away, so sure he was going to discover something worth finding. He’d spent the last ten minutes muttering to himself, and Taylor was getting worried about him.

“Darrel!” her dad shouted, and her uncle stopped from his lead position. “Is that old barn still out here?”

His voice died in the storm, and Darrel had to walk toward them, his hand cupping his ear. “What’d you say?”

“The barn. There was an old barn out here when we were kids. Is it still there?” Paul asked, and Taylor wanted to tell him they didn’t need a barn; they needed to get to the cars and to get out to the orchard.

Before she could say anything, her uncle was there, scratching at his few-days-old beard. “Think so. It should be a half mile toward the orchard. What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking the nest is close, and if you and Tyler say it’s not at the orchard, then maybe it’s somewhere nearby. That barn is as good a location as any. No one on the land, and no watching eyes nearby,” Paul shouted into the wind. The rain had picked up, and Taylor was soaked from head to foot.

Isabelle was shivering, and Darrel put an arm around his daughter. “Well, we can’t stay out here forever, so let’s go check it out. Worst case, we have somewhere to get dry for a bit.”

Taylor wanted to object again, but what if her dad was right? What if there was a nest under the barn? It would make sense, after the original was hidden by a trap door in the Smiths’ run-down wooden building. Why hadn’t they thought of this before?

Lightning started flashing in the night sky, and Taylor jumped every time the thunderclap followed. Brent was quickly at her side, leaning in. “What did he expect to see out here? This is crazy, Tay. Definitely not what I planned on doing this weekend.”

Taylor ran a hand to his wet face, lifting onto her toes as she kissed him firmly. His lips were cold, but she didn’t care.

“What was that for?” Brent asked, and Taylor glanced over his shoulder to see her dad trying to pretend he hadn’t seen anything. She sensed a new phase

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