Page 19 of Donovan

I yanked off my helmet and tossed it onto the tarmac. “Just get me in the air.”

Tom let out a low whistle. “Must be important.”

I didn’t answer. It was.

Something in my face must’ve told him not to push. He exhaled, nodding toward the jet. “Fine. Hop in. We leave now.”

No hesitation. No delays.

Because there was no time to waste. Declan needed me. And I was coming for him.

I kept checking my phone. Declan’s location hadn’t changed in the last nine hours.

That fact both consoled and terrified me.

If Declan hadn’t moved, then maybe he was still alive. Maybe he had found shelter, maybe he was just waiting. Hoping.

Maybe he was fighting whatever battle was raging inside him, holding on with everything he had. But the what-ifs clawed at my mind, refusing to let go.

What if something else had found Declan first? Some other monster lurking in the shadows, drawn by the scent of blood, deciding Declan would make for an easy meal?

What if he was too weak to fight back? What if he’d already lost?

Or worse, what if he had passed out somewhere unprotected, in a place where the sun could cut through and burn him alive?

The thought made my stomach turn violently.

I pushed the throttle of my thoughts forward, shoving past the worst-case scenarios. I didn’t have time for fear. I didn’t have time for hesitation.

I just had to get to him. Before it was too late.

I had landed hours ago, stepping off a private airstrip in the middle of nowhere, the winter wind biting through my jacket.

There had been no cabs, no buses, just an old couple pulling up in a rusted pickup, kind enough to offer me a ride into town.

From there, I had hitched another ride, paid in cash, no questions asked. Now, I walked the last stretch.

The road stretched empty before me, an endless path of cracked pavement and frost-covered fields.

Nothing but desolation on either side. The wind howled, sending shivers racing down my spine.

I checked my phone again. Not far now. Just a few miles.

A familiar sense of urgency clawed at my chest, burning through my veins. I didn’t hesitate. I ran.

My backpack bounced against me with every step, my boots crunching against frozen earth, but I didn’t slow down. Couldn’t slow down.

Then, in the distance, I saw it.

The abandoned barn.

The location marker on my phone pointed directly to it.

I skidded to a stop, my breath ragged, unease curling in my gut.

Something felt wrong.

The barn stood silent, its wooden beams warped with age, the doors slightly ajar. No footprints. No movement.