Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 99935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
“Why?” I beseeched him. “Why would all four of them glue this thing to their clothes if it meant nothing at all? Answer: they wouldn’t.”
He tossed his head. “Well, of course, it must mean something, Miss Hunter, but whatever it means was known only to them. For all we know, it was the patch for their band, gang, or club. Either they’re not very popular, or they haven’t shared the name of their group widely, because said group is involved in criminal activity,” Daniels said. “Not a far leap considering the name they chose for the group.”
“But that’s it, don’t you see?! The name,” I cried. “Abaddon is a Hebrew term, and of course, you’re not going to grasp all the cultural significance and translations of a word just from messing around online. That’s why I had to go to Israel and consult an Old Testament scholar who—”
“Excuse me, what?” he broke in. “You went where? Did you just say Israel?”
“Yes, of course.”
He goggled at me. “How did you afford that? I spoke to your boss yesterday. He said he had to let you go two weeks ago.”
I shrugged. “It wasn’t a big deal. I just sold my car.”
“You sold—!”
“That doesn’t matter,” I sounded off. “Are you listening to me? You’re not listening to me! I’m telling you that I spoke with a scholar who told me that in the Bible, Abaddon is a place of destruction or—get this!—a realm of the dead.” I met his eyes, sharing in the shock of this revelation.
He blinked. “Okay... and?”
“And?” I cried. “Don’t you get it? Hideous, unnatural creatures with super strength and red eyes who come from a land of the dead? And not a nice land of the dead. A land of the dead that’s synonymous with destruction.” I held my hands out to him, waiting for the penny to drop.
“Hell, Detective Daniels! Hell! They came from hell which means...” I tapped the lone, single word I scribbled on a piece of paper the night before and stuck on the board. “Demons. My sister was taken by demons.”
He stared at me, his unnerving gaze stretching the silence past comfort.
“Didn’t you hear me?” I pressed. “Demons.”
“No... I heard you.”
I blew out a breath. “Okay, yes, I know how it sounds. I saw them with my own eyes, and it’s taken me this long to accept it, but now that I have, we can finally stop looking in all the wrong places for Dora.”
Again with the long, uncomfortable look. “So, you’re saying you expect me to look for your sister... in hell.”
“What? No,” I cried, surging forward. “Obviously you can’t do that.”
“Obviously.”
“It’s called a realm of the dead for a reason,” I went on. “No, it’s clear that someone—maybe even some of the people I thought were in the clear—summoned demons to kidnap my sister while they were miles away partying it up or banging their mistress. They knew they’d have an unbreakable alibi, and if I ever spouted off about demons, everyone would dismiss me as crazy. Do you see!” I blurted, making him jerk back. “It’s the perfect plan, and more than that, I bet it’s been done before. I bet it’s done all the time! That’s why so many people disappear without a trace.”
Grabbing the corkboard, I spun it on its wheels—showing him the back. “Do you see?” I rasped, eyes bugging. “I got back from Israel three days ago, and I’ve already dug up all this stuff on demon summoning, rituals, protective circles, and ceremonial magic. These practices have been going on for centuries! I mean, we’re talking ancient Mesopotamia, ancient Egypt, the Renaissance!”
“Miss Hunter—”
“It’s called evocation, and it exists in so many present-day religions and cultures. These practices have been handed down for generations, and now I know why—because it’s real! Because demons are—”
“Charlotte!” he bellowed, blowing me back. “Stop! Just... stop.”
Sighing, Daniels pinched the bridge of his nose—dropping his head. Adopting that pose—he looked exactly as he did the morning after my sister was taken. He sat next to my hospital bed, listening to me bawling my eyes out, and looking like all he wanted to do was run away from my overwhelming grief...
...but he didn’t.
He stayed by my side, passing me tissues, and listening to me sob out every heartbroken regret over failing my sister. At letting those beasts snatch her away while I napped in the hedges.
I knew he was a good man—for all that he was young, rumpled, always smelled of coffee, and looked like he got even less sleep than I did. Even so, I knew he was committed to finding Dora.
“Charlotte,” he tried again in an even tone. “Putting your... theory... aside for a moment, I need to talk to you about what brought me here.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a slip of paper and unfolded it. “These fliers were posted all over town. You even helpfully posted it on the station’s message board. What were you thinking?” He waved the reward flyer at me. “Why on earth would you offer a half-a-million-dollar reward for news that leads to your sister’s rescue? Do you understand that posting rewards for money you don’t have is a form of fraud? You could be prosecuted for this!”