Chapter 22 - Bloodline of the Burning Candle
The coastal highway was a ribbon of slick asphalt trapped between jagged granite cliffs and the churning, black Atlantic. Rain lashed against the cruiser's windshield in blinding sheets. The wipers fought a losing battle, slinging water side to side in rhythmic, frantic slaps.
Two miles ahead, the ambulance was driving without sirens, a ghostly white silhouette weaving recklessly through the deluge.
"Hold on, Noah!" Daniel barked, gripping the cruiser’s steering wheel with knuckles bleached white. He pressed the pedal to the floorboards. The speedometer needle swung past eighty, ninety, creeping toward one hundred miles per hour.
"Dad, what was on that badge?" Noah asked from the passenger seat, his seatbelt cinched tight across his chest, his eyes wide and wet with tears. "The snakes and the candle... Mom had that painted inside her jewelry box. The one she said burned in the old house."
Daniel’s jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached. "Your mother lied to us, Noah. Not because she hated us, but because she was running from monsters. And those monsters just made the worst mistake of their lives."
Daniel grabbed the police radio mounted to the dash. He clicked the receiver. "Dispatch, this is Officer—"
A harsh burst of static cut him off, followed by a cold, mocking voice through the cruiser’s speaker.
"Don't bother, Mercer."
Daniel froze. The voice belonged to Julian Hawthorne—the dead brother. He was transmitting directly over the cruiser’s tactical frequency.
"You're driving Miller's car, which means Miller is dead or useless," Julian said smoothly, unaffected by the roaring storm. "It doesn't matter. You won't make it to the state line, Daniel. You think Clara was an innocent victim? She was the architect. She stole the family’s blood trust—and these two children carry the biological keys."
"Touch a single hair on Maya’s head, Julian, and I will tear you apart with my bare hands," Daniel snarled into the mic.
"She’s sleeping peacefully, Daniel. Just a mild neuro-stabilizer. We need her brain intact for the biometrics. But you... you were just the surrogate husband. The decoy sheep Clara hid behind while she played dead." Julian paused, a dark chuckle echoing through the speaker. "Look up, Daniel. The bridge is closed."
Daniel’s eyes snapped forward.
Half a mile ahead, the road approached the Cape Disappointment Drawbridge. The massive steel barriers had dropped, flashing red warning lights across the road. The bridge itself was already rising into the black sky, parting like the jaws of a beast.
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And the ambulance wasn't slowing down.
***
