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Back When the Stars Go Dark Save as PDF
Chapters (83)
  1. Epigraph
  2. Maps
  3. (prologue)
  4. Part 1: Signs and Vapors
  5. (one)
  6. (two)
  7. (three)
  8. (four)
  9. (five)
  10. (six)
  11. (seven)
  12. (eight)
  13. (nine)
  14. (ten)
  15. (eleven)
  16. (twelve)
  17. Part 2: Secret Things
  18. (thirteen)
  19. (fourteen)
  20. (fifteen)
  21. (sixteen)
  22. (seventeen)
  23. (eighteen)
  24. (nineteen)
  25. (twenty)
  26. (twenty-one)
  27. (twenty-two)
  28. (twenty-three)
  29. (twenty-four)
  30. (twenty-five)
  31. (twenty-six)
  32. (twenty-seven)
  33. (twenty-eight)
  34. (twenty-nine)
  35. (thirty)
  36. (thirty-one)
  37. (thirty-two)
  38. (thirty-three)
  39. (thirty-four)
  40. (thirty-five)
  41. (thirty-six)
  42. (thirty-seven)
  43. (thirty-eight)
  44. (thirty-nine)
  45. Part 3: Time and the Maiden
  46. (forty)
  47. (forty-one)
  48. (forty-two)
  49. (forty-three)
  50. (forty-four)
  51. (forty-five)
  52. (forty-six)
  53. (forty-seven)
  54. (forty-eight)
  55. (forty-nine)
  56. (fifty)
  57. (fifty-one)
  58. (fifty-two)
  59. (fifty-three)
  60. Part 4: The Bent Grove
  61. (fifty-four)
  62. (fifty-five)
  63. (fifty-six)
  64. (fifty-seven)
  65. (fifty-eight)
  66. (fifty-nine)
  67. (sixty)
  68. (sixty-one)
  69. (sixty-two)
  70. (sixty-three)
  71. (sixty-four)
  72. (sixty-five)
  73. (sixty-six)
  74. (sixty-seven)
  75. (sixty-eight)
  76. (sixty-nine)
  77. (seventy)
  78. Dedication
  79. (acknowledgments)
  80. (author’s note)
  81. BY PAULA MCLAIN
  82. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  83. What’s next onyour reading list?

I reach over my head, keeping my eyes fixed on the knife, and there. My fingertips graze the iron bedpost. It’s solid, or as solid as anything I’m going to find. I strain a bit farther, grip the post, and buck upward. Twisting from my hip and shoulder as hard as I can, harder, I get one foot under me. Then my left knee up. Blood rushes into my freed limbs.

Caleb’s eyes bulge with rage as I struggle, the knife passing inches from my face, but maybe he can’t bring himself to stab me. With one last thrust, I pitch him backward into the bed rail, his skull ramming solid iron. He cries out, a growl of pain and fury, as I stumble away from him with strength I don’t really have.

This isn’t just about saving my own life but for Cameron, so she’ll never have to fear Caleb again, not for one more moment. I have to put an end to what she’s suffered at his hands, and Shannan, too, and all the nameless wounded others, silenced now, stretching out and out in concentric rings.

I whirl to face him as he lurches to his feet, wrestling himself forward. His face is terrible. Twisted.

“Anna!” he shouts. But I’ve seen enough. Know enough now.

He’ll never stop, not ever.

My right arm is half numb as I raise it in front of me. I steady the muzzle and fire into his chest, not fumbling this time. Not missing. The recoil slams through my clenched palm, three shots, but I only hear the first. The others thump-thump through my inner ear, no louder than my heartbeat, which seems to roll forward like a wave, shaking me out of my trance. Caleb’s eyes are open but dull. Blanked out. His chest streaming blood.

I stagger into the other room, my nose stinging with gunpowder. Cricket is motionless in the center of the floor, a small river of blood and fluid near her mouth. For one excruciating moment, I’m sure he’s killed her and can barely hold my hand still to check the pulse at her neck, but it’s there. She’s still alive.

I’m running on steam and shock, a distorted kind of euphoria. I bend over Cricket and pick her up. She doesn’t struggle. She barely seems conscious against my chest as I carry her out of my cabin—like a child, I keep thinking—to my car, leaving the door open wide behind me, so they can come for him and process his body, and take him away, and scour the rooms, collecting evidence. It’s a crime scene now. I never want to see it again.

(sixty-eight)