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He looks up at me with sleepy eyes. “Thank you, Mommy.”

“Daddy should be here soon. Does that make you happy?” This brings a sleepy smile to his face, and he lays his head back on the bed.

I give him one last hug and close the door, given it’s only five A.M., and go to settle on the veranda with a cup of tea and stare out into the mist while I wait for him.

Tommy should be coming home from the hunt soon, although I’m not expecting him for a couple of days. He heads out to the wilderness every year to get away, and he always goes alone. Sometimes he’s gone for weeks, but I understand it’s his way of handling his guilt. I know the feeling—the guilt still gnaws at me, too. When he returns, he’s always better.

I sensed I was with child that fateful night six years ago, and somehow, Talia sensed it, too. She knew before I gave her my blood oath. The next day, I started puking my guts out, and it took my entire pregnancy to nurse myself to health. I lost my will to live in those dark days after the slaughter. I tried multiple times to end it, knowing the evil inherent in my soul.

Although Mama’s been dead for years, her words still haunt me—her visions, her prophecy. The book of Mama scares me more than the Codex. When Kevin was born, I couldn’t handle it. He wasn’t born with my condition, but all I could see was the devil when I looked into his eyes. The same devil’s mark on my eye from where Cindy burned me.

I thought about killing my son multiple times to stop the evil inside him from unleashing into the world. Tommy knew this, too, because he always kept a careful watch over me. Slowly, over the course of many months, Tommy helped me return to myself, and somehow, I found my faith in God again.

One Sunday after Kevin was born, I went to the local church and I prayed and prayed—until one day, God forgave me and pulled the serpent out of me.

Tommy refuses to go to church; he can’t bring himself to step inside one. To this day, he still carries the burden of what he had to do to protect me. His form of therapy is either hunting or sex, though he also writes a lot of music, too.

Mystic is our home now, far enough away, but not far enough where the Order still has their deep clutches in our lives. I guess it’s better than going to prison, which is where we all would be had we not agreed to their conditions.

We got married as soon as we could. It was a quiet ceremony. Bax came up for it and witnessed it in the courthouse, but Remy refused to come. Years went by, and eventually, I got bored. I told Tommy I wanted to finish school.

Now Tommy and I live a blissful life. I completed my degree in math at the local community college and now work as an accountant for the town of Mystic. Talia has not tried to contact us, nor has she acknowledged my son. Her haunting words stick in my mind like glue.

Make no mistake, that child will belong to me.

Each month, money shows up in our accounts—blood money…and I accept it. Because deep down, I’m still devoted to her, even if I don’t want to admit it.

Tommy got a job as a high school track and field coach. We’ve built a good life here, and keep our scars hidden deep. It’s normal here; there is no curse plaguing the town, no dark undertones of death and destruction. Just a normal small town, with good people.

We don’t speak to each other about what happened that night or the seven bodies that were discovered by the partygoers shortly after we fled the scene. The Order of the Shadows turned into national news, and Shadowface became a household name.

Our specific involvement remains a mystery. Somehow, they managed to bury it. Talia and Remy will live their lives as if nothing ever happened. I heard Talia ended up marrying Stephen Garcia, and is now a professor at Kinsmen University, specializing in child psychology. Remy successfully passed his bar exam and is a practicing lawyer, though he remains unmarried.

As I sit in my rocking chair, my senses are on high alert as a car finally pulls up into our driveway. My stomach flutters as it always does when I see the silver Mercedes pull up.

I lurch out of my seat as Remy opens the car door and walks up the steps. He often comes to visit me after he works, but today he wanted to surprise his son with a visit.

I jump into his arms, wrapping myself around him. He cups my ass as our tongues tangle. I haven’t seen him in a couple of weeks, and I’m desperate for him. He carries me to the veranda and sits on the chair, keeping me on top of him and doesn’t break our kiss.

“Where’s Tommy?” he asks, noting the missing truck and the tire marks leading up to the garage we have in the back.

I smile coyly. “I’m not expecting him home for a couple of days. It’s just us.”

“Is he doing better?”

I thread my hands through Remy’s dark hair and press kisses along his jaw hair. He plays with the hem of my nightgown, pulling it up slightly. “He has good and bad days…mostly good.”

“I’ll take him for a beer when he gets home.”

I curve my lips and smile. “Does that mean you’re staying for a couple of days?”

He captures my mouth with his and moves my hair over my shoulder. I’ve grown it out, it now falls to my lower back, longer than it was the day I cut it after killing Mama. “I’ll stay for the weekend.” He moves his hand down my back and plays with my panties, moving them over, sliding his fingers into me.

I moan as he plays with me, and I grind into him, heat already building between my thighs.

Remy visits me as much as he can. I make love to both, but never together. We were only ever together like that once. I love them both in different ways. Tommy will always be my husband—that will never change—but Remy will always own my soul.

“How is my boy?” he asks.