Page 115 of The Haunting of Paynes Hollow

Austin turns my way, and my gut freezes. But the man in front turns toward me, too, and something cold and wet brushes my arm as the horse moves up beside me. The nekkers all stop, attention turning to Bram, to their leader.

“I am the bonded one,” I say. And stifling my revulsion, I lay a hand on the horse’s cold, slimy flank. “I am a Payne. This man is nothing.”

Do they understand me? I doubt it, but nor do they move. Huge liquid eyes and empty sockets turn my way.

I am the bonded one. I am a Payne. Whether they understand my words or not, they understand my truth.

“Sam,” Smits warns. “You’re going to upset them. Confuse them. The horseman can’t protect you if they—”

“I call you, creatures of the water, guardians of the lake,” my voice rings out in the invocation, and they all turn my way.

“Let me do this,” I say to Smits, my voice low. “It will be stronger if I do the sacrifice.”

Smits rocks, uncertain but not interrupting.

I continue the invocation and the dedication, saying the same words he had. Then as I near the end, passing where I’d cut him off, I turn his way.

“I bring you this offering, children of the lake,” I say. “This man, for you to devour and claim as your own.”

Smits lifts Ben by the collar.

“I give you this man,” I say. “Yours, in return for your favor. This I offer to you, my guardians, my protectors.”

The nekkers draw closer. Smits holds out Ben for them, and then lets go. Ben’s limp body drops face down into the water.

“All yours,” Smits calls, waving at Ben.

I watch Ben there, his nose and mouth under the water, unable to breathe. Smits walks away as the nekkers close in.

One step. Two steps. Three—

I run for Ben. Smits hears me and whirls, but I’m already there, yanking Ben by the collar, getting his head from the water.

“Sam,” Smits snaps as the nekkers stop. “You’ve already given him to them. Don’t interfere. You’ll get hurt. It’s too late to save him.”

“I didn’t give him to them.” I struggle to hold Ben up out of the water. “I gaveyou.” I wave at Smits. “There. That is the one I gave you.”

Smits only rolls his eyes. “It’s too late. You—”

“—said I was giving them a man. That’s you.” I start dragging Bentoward shore, angled away from Smits. I wave at the sheriff. “Him. That’s your target. Take—”

Smits charges, snarling. He doesn’t get within a yard of me before the horse gallops into his path.

“I didn’t touch her!” Smits says. “I never laid a finger on her.”

The horse stays where it is, Bram holding out his head to watch Smits. The sheriff is yelling something at me, furious, feeling safe if he stays where he is. He doesn’t see the legless nekker pulling itself through the water. He doesn’t see the others, turned his way, beginning to move. His focus is on the horse and rider. As long as he doesn’t touch me, he’s safe.

Except, with the horse between us, the nekkers understand. I am holding Ben. Protecting Ben. And Bram is protecting me. Which means the sacrifice…

The legless nekker wraps one hand around Smits’s ankle. The sheriff jumps. It’s barely a startle, as if lake weeds touched him. Even when he sees the nekker, he only yanks his leg free and backs up.

“Notme!” he shouts. “Him!” He gestures at Ben.

The legless nekker keeps pulling itself along, slowly but inexorably pursuing Smits as the sheriff backs up. And that’s all Smits does. Backs up. Focused on this broken creature, no threat to him, easily escapable. But the others are coming his way, too, and he doesn’t see them until the tall nekker is nearly on him. Then Smits’s head jerks up and…

Do I see recognition flash in his eyes? His lips form a word he doesn’t utter, and his gaze locks on the man, as if he recognizes him.

“One of yours?” I call. “A traveler you just happened to find dead? Only he wasn’t dead, was he?”