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In time, though, I get more tired. My lids feel heavy. I almost put the phone down and try and make a go of sleep again when I have an idea.

Silas Black.

I enter it into Google along with the word Dublin.

A Wikipedia page is the first to pop up.

I click.

The page loads and my eyes eagerly scan it.

According to the Wikipedia gods, Silas Black was born in 1537, during the political strife of Ireland when the English administration destroyed the Fitzgeralds. His mother died in childbirth, it was believed anyway, and his father died trying to take over Dublin castle. After that the baby Silas was brought out to the Irish countryside by unknown people, some suspected relatives, others suspected it was a more sinister event such as kidnapping for rituals.

However, he later surfaced in his late teens in Meath, where he lived on a secluded farm near the Loughcrew cairns by himself.

Not much is known about Silas Black between that time and when he was twenty-seven, where he was known to predict a disease that would later take out a nearby village.

At twenty-eight he was seen holding a big bonfire on his property, the biggest ever seen in the area, and according to witnesses walked right into the fire and disappeared.

At twenty-nine he was found guilty of five counts of murder, children taken from their homes and then offered up as sacrifice that people at the time blamed on the Druids, even though their religion would never condone such a thing.

At thirty he had miraculously escaped a Dublin prison, vanishing right before the guard’s eyes, leaving behind a cell covered in ash from floor to ceiling, the outline of his body burned against the walls in black soot, despite the guards insisting there was no fire.

He was never seen again but there are many legends surrounding Silas Black, particularly with his involvement with the Devil and black magic.

There’s a lot more legend than fact about the man.

But it’s all I need to know.

Jay wasn’t exaggerating when he said that he had been a bad, bad man.

Silas Black had probably been in league with the Devil.

And that’s his human side.

Which means the longer he’s with me, the more that Silas gets pulled out.

The more that evil could potentially compromise Jay without him even knowing it.

Like that Irish accent coming out at the most intimate or humanistic times.

Like that look that came into his eyes while we were outside the restaurant.

The look that belonged to Silas Black.

Jay literally has the Devil’s subject lying dormant inside him, waiting to come loose at my touch.

Our relationship just got a lot more complicated.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I barely sleep.

All night long I have the sensation that there are things in the dark crawling toward me, wanting to curl up inside my ears and nose and spread a horrible evil inside my brain. Turn me into something I’m not.

Then there are the dreams. Fragmented and fleeting but upon waking—bathed in sweat—I have the feeling that it’s the same dream over and over again.

A large bonfire.

Crackling. Embers into a night sky.

A moon severed in half.

People in robes, chanting with goat faces.

Jay stepping out of the flames, dressed in old fashioned clothing.

Eyes glowing red.

Grabbing me with clawed hands.

Pulling me into Hell.

Thankfully it’s morning and daylight is streaming through the window, illuminating the dust, and the room has already taken on a hot, muggy feel. Maybe that caused the dreams, why I’m sweating. It’s hot as Hell in reality.

But I know that’s not why.

I glance at my phone and am surprised to see it say ten thirty. I slept way in.

I quickly shove on a dress, the concert tee one that Perry picked up at the Portland market weeks ago, noting that the whole apartment is strangely silent. Usually there’s some sort of hustle and bustle in this place, either the scamper of Fat Rabbit’s paws or the whine of the shower running or bacon sizzling on the stove. But the whole apartment buzzes like empty space.

Once I open the door and don’t see anyone, I’m more assured it’s empty. Everyone has gone and left me, even Fat Rabbit.

But as I step into the living room I see Jay out on the balcony, his back to me and showing in filtered waves as the white curtains dance from an unfelt breeze.

He turns around, an emptiness in his eyes as he takes me in. At least he’s not Silas.

He has to know.

“Where is everyone?” I ask him.

He steps into the room, his frame seeming too big for the place, like the apartment is struggling to contain him. “They took the dog for a walk. Left a few minutes ago.”

I rub at my eyes and move over to the Keurig to make myself a cup. “I slept in so long . . .”

“You had some bad dreams.”