“Maxwell! Let’s go!” Vera carved her nails into the flesh of his arm and yanked him with a force she didn’t know she had. He shifted.

Then she barreled toward the doorway, pulling him, dragging him, tripping behind her, his head constantly swiveling back to see the person who used to be his mother, to see if it all might disappear.

No, Maxwell, I’m sorry. This is real. This is horribly real.

She heaved him through the house and to the front door, and as soon as he stepped outside, he gobbled the air as though it was the first breath he’d taken since plummeting beneath the surface of that malevolent fog.

Then the gargling sound of tears rang out and his head spun toward his sister in the back of Vera’s car. Her thin arms were wrapped around bent legs that were pulled forcefully against her chest as she rocked, wild black curls swishing with every sob.

Now it was Vera’s turn to follow after Maxwell as he sprinted to the car like the devil was on his tail.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Max

Max clutched his sister to his chest, her feet kicking Vera’s seat as she convulsed in sobs. His head throbbed, the smell of smoke still clinging to his clothes.

“My mother is still in there!” he shouted, rolling down the window. “You heard her! And before that, I heard my dad. My dad! We have to help them!”

“You heard Daddy?” Chloe screeched.

Shit, he shouldn’t have said that, but Vera wasn’t listening. She was driving, farther and farther away.

He released a hand from Chloe to shake Vera’s headrest. “Vera, we have to go back! I heard them! Vera, come on, can’t you get them out?”

She was a superhero, right? A demon fighter? This was what her family did.

He watched her knuckles tighten on the wheel.

“No!” she snapped. “I cannot get them out. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I’m not my parents! I did what I could. I put Chloe in a safe place, and I dragged you away.”

“But my mom—”

“Needs more help than I can give you!” she blurted, smacking the wheel. Then she sucked in a breath louder than the breeze from the window. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make this worse. I’m really sorry for what you’re going through. And I’m going to get you help.”

From where? Barcelona? They didn’t have time to wait for her parents’ case to wrap up.

Their level of hell changed in that room. This was no longer some potential sleepwalking and a little creepy babbling. There was an inferno with seven rings in there. His mother was breathing smoke! She was speaking in his father’s voice! She tried to lure Chloe!

They pulled in front of Vera’s home—a big white Victorian—and her aunt stood on the front porch like she was expecting them, long gray hair whipping in the breeze. Max stepped out of the car to the sound of yapping in the distance. His head spun to the neighbor’s house, a white puff in the window. The dog. His mother knew about that dog. She’d sounded just like it. His eyes blinked, shock coursing through him as he cradled Chloe’s tall, lanky body in his arms like a newborn. Then he marched toward the house.