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“Are you sure?”
He pauses at the top of the stairs, raising a brow. “Don’t tell me, you’re afraid of the dark.”
Asshole.
“Maybe we really are a match made in heaven,” I grumble stepping past him while he chuckles quietly.
The basement is where dreams come to die. A demon would be afraid to lurk in the dark down here, much less me. Mason is scary and all, but the never-ending darkness that seems as thick as maple syrup is next level.
“Breathe, little doe,” Mason murmurs softly as we step into what appears to be a long hallway. I saylong hallwaybecause we can only see right in front of us with the flashlight on dim.
“I’m breathing.” Barely.
“You’re shaking.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I don’t like the dark.”
“Relax,” he says, so close to my ear I nearly jump out of my skin. I hadn’t realized he was that close. “I’m scarier than anything lurking in the dark.”
God, I hope he’s right. I open my mouth to speak, but stop when I see a door looming just out of range of the flashlight. Surprisingly . . . stupidly, the door is partially open and a light shines dimly in the crack. Mason peeks his head around the corner before pulling back and opening the door.
“Holy fucking shit,” Mason murmurs, stepping inside.
I follow him and for a moment, my eyes struggle to adjust.
Then I see the cages.
Cages line the walls. Thick, metal cages with iron padlocks like what they use in old cartoons to transport animals. They’re empty,
The roomstinks. Like mold and decay and . . . death. I cover my nose with my hand and my eyes water at the stench. In the center of the room sits an old incinerator, probably used to burn the old papers that were either messed up or weren’t sold and it burns brightly, lighting up the room.
“What do you think they kept in these?” I ask quietly, though I know the answer.
Mason’s eyes are hard as he scans the room, taking in the cages and the incinerator. It’s not hard to decipher what happened here.
“Definitely not animals,” he murmurs darkly.
“Mason . . .” I grab his hand because I feel like I’m going to be sick. In the darkness beside the incinerator is a long tarp. On top of that tarp, are the bodies of four dead women.
“Fuck,” he murmurs and I gag as the scent of murder fills my nostrils and mouth. “Turn away.”
“What if it’s her?” Tears burn in my eyes, clouding my vision, but for once, I don’t see the hate on his face at the mention of Missy.
“Turn away. I’ll check.”
Forcefully, he turns me around to face the door and I hear his heavy bootfalls as he makes his way over to the corpses.
A laugh sounds above us and I freeze, all the hair on my arms standing straight up.
“Fuck,” Mason curses under his breath, rejoining me in the center of the room. He tugs his gun out of the back of his jeans, aiming it at the door.
“No,” I growl. I don’t think I could stomach him getting shot tonight. “We have to hide.”
Reluctantly, he shoves the gun back in its holster and steers me with a hand on the small of my back. I move toward the door, but he hauls me back to a small closet that I’m not sure both of us can fit in.
Mason opens the door and climbs inside and before I can react, he’s reaching forward, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me in on top of him. He’s so large he barely fits, but he pulls me down onto his lap and locks me against his chest with an arm around my stomach.
Just as he shuts the door most of the way, heavy bootfalls sound from the dirty concrete floor outside.
