The Catacombs (Cult #2) Read Online Penelope Sky

Categories Genre: Dark, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Cult Series by Penelope Sky
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Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
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It did, but she didn’t fall back asleep. I looked at the ceiling as I continued to stroke her hair, wide awake now that she was on top of me, making my personal space warmer than it usually was. “Just a dream.”

“But my dreams…they feel like…”

“What?”

“Acid. When he forced me to take it, I never knew what was real or fake. I never knew if I was actually awake…or if I’d collapsed on the ground and dreamed the whole thing. There was a time when I ran in the forest, and demons were everywhere, Forneus in his real form, and I found this river… I thought it wasn’t real. I plunged my hands into the stream, and it was ice-cold. I think it was real…but I’m not sure.”

My fingers stopped playing with her strands as I pictured those men torturing the women they snatched off the streets. They became pets for their enjoyment. Dressed them up in ridiculous costumes and made them higher than a kite. Did they actually believe they were angels? Or did they just believe in their own power? It’d been a few months since she’d been away from the cult—but she was no better than the day she’d returned. “You’re safe now. They have no power over you.”

“But I have no power over them either. All I have is you.” She rested her cheek against my collarbone as her arm tightened around my torso. “I wish I could kill him. I wish I could kill them all. Then maybe I’d be able to get a good night’s sleep…”

Five

Constance

I arrived on campus and waited for the bell to ring. It was a sunny day, and while the sunshine reddened my nose a bit, it was deceptive, because it was freezing cold. I was in my boots and jacket, my hands deep in my pockets.

When the bell rang, the children covered the grounds like ants emerging from a hill, and when Claire spotted me, she ran right toward me. This was our daily ritual now, and I loved it every single time. Her backpack bobbed up and down as she ran, and she made it into my arms. We embraced with a squeeze then broke apart.

“How was your last day?”

“It was good. We made paper Christmas trees and had pizza.”

“Wow, that sounds like fun. I love pizza parties.”

As we walked back to the apartment, she told me about her friends, that someone’s mom was going to organize a gift exchange over the holiday break. When we got home, she set her backpack on the table and pulled out her artwork.

“I made this one for you.”

“Oh, really?” I took it, seeing the paper ornaments and lights glued on the front. “It’s beautiful, honey. I’ll put it on the fridge.” The appliance was already covered with pictures of Claire and other things she’d created throughout her life, so I found an open spot and secured a magnet over it.

“Where’s Daddy?”

“He’s still asleep—”

“I’m right here, sweetheart.” His deep voice sliced through the air like a knife through the calmest water, and he emerged in his sweatpants and nothing else. His hair was matted in certain places because he’d just rolled out of bed. A six-foot-something hunk with gorgeous blue eyes, he was the sexiest man I’d ever seen.

It was hard not to stare.

He gave her a kiss on the forehead before he examined the other Christmas tree.

“That one’s for you.”

He took his time looking at it, admiring her craftsmanship as if it was a real piece of art. He was indifferent to the world around him, but whenever it came to Claire, he was completely smitten. A smile moved on to his face. “I love it.” He did the same as I did and placed it on the fridge. “How about an after-school snack—”

“Mac and cheese!” She threw up her arms and followed him into the kitchen.

With affectionate eyes, he chuckled. “Alright.”

I backed away from the room and entered the hallway because this was their time alone together. There were times when I belonged and times when I didn’t, and I knew my place. I was supposed to take care of Claire when he was unable to, but if that was fulfilled, then I had no purpose.

“Constance?” Claire’s sweet little voice came from behind me.

I turned back around.

“You want to help us make mac and cheese?”

“It’s okay—”

Benton emerged behind her, a skyscraper that towered over her, and his blue eyes locked on to my face. He gave a subtle nod toward the kitchen then disappeared from view.

The smile that took up my face infected my heart at the same time. “Sure, I’d love to.”

After I put Claire to bed, Benton walked down the hallway in his jeans and a long-sleeved shirt.

I knew that meant he would be out of the house until morning—and it was always a disappointment. A jolt of anxiety hit me, along with a lot of other emotions too.



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