Chapter 1111
“We found you! We saved you!”
“You were too late!” Parker clutched his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “It’s too loud. It’s too loud.”
Headlights cut through the darkness below. A car was winding up the narrow access road.
“Showtime,” Parker grinned — a grotesque expression on his tear-streaked face. He dragged the chair toward the railing. “Let’s see how much they love you.”
At the base of the lighthouse, Alistair cut the engine.
“Stay here,” he told Skye.
“No,” Skye said, pushing the door open. The wind hit her — cold, salt-sharp. “He asked for me.”
They walked into the light. Alistair held his hands up. Skye raised the Ruby Drive above her head, its gem-like casing catching the sweep of the lighthouse beam.
“Parker!” Skye screamed over the wind. “I have it!”
“Bring it up!” Parker’s voice drifted down. “Just you!”
“Send Victoria down first!” Alistair shouted.
“No deal! Bring it up or she flies!” Parker shoved the chair forward. One leg hovered over the abyss. Victoria screamed.
“Okay!” Skye yelled. “Okay! I’m coming!”
“Skye.” Alistair seized her arm. “You can’t go up there.”
“I have to,” Skye whispered. “Trust me.”
She started toward the tower door.
Then a second set of headlights appeared. A sleek black sedan roared up the road, drifting hard around the final corner and screeching to a halt beside Alistair’s car.
The door flew open.
Ethan jumped out and ran to the passenger side. He opened the door and helped a figure to his feet.
Julian Vance.
He was wearing a hospital gown tucked into dress pants, a coat thrown over his shoulders. He looked like a corpse that had refused to stay buried — skin translucent, lips tinged blue, his entire weight leaning against Ethan as his legs barely held beneath him.
But in his hand, shaking violently, was a pistol.
“Julian?” Victoria gasped from the tower above.
Julian looked up. He raised the gun, Ethan’s arm steadying his, and his voice — barely a whisper, swallowed almost entirely by the wind — carried nothing but absolute intent.
“Let her go, Parker.”
The sight of Julian Vance standing in the wind — half-dead, supported by his cousin — shifted the entire gravity of the situation.
Parker looked down, his eyes widening. “You — you’re supposed to be dead!”
“I am hard to kill,” Julian wheezed. A racking cough bent him double, blood flecking his lips. Ethan held him upright, his face tight with terror.
“A reunion!” Parker laughed, the sound unraveling at the edges. “The whole freak show! Come on up, Julian — you can watch!”
“He can’t make the stairs, Parker!” Skye shouted. “He’s dying! Is that what you want? To kill him too?”
“Everyone dies!” Parker screamed. “That’s the lesson! Only the Ouroboros is eternal!”
“I’m coming up,” Skye said, and stepped into the tower. Alistair followed directly behind her, gun drawn but held low.