The sounds of the pursuit grow closer to propel me past my fear, and I latch on to her hand.

In direct opposition to the wild beat of my heart, the body of water is still and tranquil. The moonlight reflects off the glassy top of the reservoir, placid despite the dangerous current swimming through the air.

Defying my instinct to turn back, I anchor my hands to the cold ladder and hike my body up the rungs, breathing through the constricting fear.

Wind whips at my hair the higher we ascend. I try to pretend it’s just the library ladder, and that Kallum is there below. The thought causes a pang of regret to flare inside my chest, and as a shiver attacks my muscles, I miss a rung. Muttering a curse, I find purchase and pull myself close to the bars.

Don’t look down. Keep your eyes right there.

Hearing his voice, I tilt my head back and open my eyes to the stars dusting the midnight sky.

To further distract myself from the anxiety threading my nerves, I mentally link the details. “You told me Jake Emmons was already dead,” I say to Devyn, my voice shaky. “But it wasn’t from his illness. I read the ME’s report.”

There’s a lengthy pause where I think she won’t answer, then: “Emmons killed him.”

His own brother.

“That was his trade,” Devyn says from up above me. “His sacrifice. For me.” This last part barely reaches my ears, her voice as passive as the body of water below us. “I wanted to believe he did it to offer mercy. I had to believe that. But when I found out there was a new treatment option for Jake, and that Emmons knew this…” There’s a tense pause. “I only discovered this before I took you to the mine.”

As we reach the concrete platform, I hold my hands out to gain balance. The drop to the rocky stream below is so far down, the world tilts. I reach for the secure feel of Kallum’s arms surrounding me as his comforting scent envelops me from his shirt, preventing me from toeing too close to the edge.

In the distant marsh, the beams of light flicker through the trees. A mix of hope and dread swirls my bloodstream, unsure if I’m comforted or not by the presence of the feds. I don’t know what Agent Rana will find when she reaches Kallum—the man or the devil.

Devyn hovers in front of me like a specter, her loose layers fluttering around her soft frame. “Colter wasn’t supposed to die first,” she says, anguish hitching her voice. “He took his own life.”

I swipe my hair out of my vision. “A symptom of the disease is hopelessness,” I say, offering some form of logical comfort.

She holds up a hand. “Colter’s will was the strongest. He was never hopeless. I knew then, right fucking then, when I found him in the ravine…” She averts her gaze and drags in a sharp breath. “I’m the one who became hopeless. I’m the one who lost the will. And by doing so, I drove Emmons to this end. When Colter died, it was as if he just snapped. My brother’s death made mine an unavoidable reality.”

I nod slowly, gaining more of my bearings. “And you thought Professor Locke could help you.”

A knowing smile stretches across her lips. “He did,” she says. “He brought me you.”

Leaving it at that, Deyvn spins toward the building sitting on the elevated bluff that overlooks the reservoir. A blend of gothic and industrial architecture, the original masonry stacks faded bricks two levels high, with a dark cast-iron water tank housed on top.

I lift my face to a gust of wind, just to feel it brush my skin before I follow behind her.

“After each failed ascension into the alchemical overman, Emmons disposed of them with hemlock,” she says as she pulls the glass door open. “Once the bodies have all been recovered, they’ll find traces of it, just like with Bethany.”

I tilt my head, studying her. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you want answers.” She swings the door wider and steps inside. “When the FBI arrived, Emmons knew it was only a matter of time before we were exposed, and he became desperate.”

As I wait for her to say more, I glance around. The track lights overhead are dimmed, as if the emergency lights kicked on afterhours. The renovated interior is a stark contrast to the worn exterior, complete with updated concrete flooring and monitors displayed on whitewashed walls. Reinforced steel beams cross the ceiling alongside galvanized air ducts.

“The hemlock was never intended for mass destruction,” Devyn says as she rounds a corner. “You got that wrong, too. It was given as an option for self-destruction, for those who personally chose that means. But Emmons saw it as a way to take it right back to your profile.”

“I don’t understand.” But even as I say this, a revolting awareness washes over me.

I theorized that if the divine wisdom was rejected by society, the Overman would incorporate the hemlock into their delusion. Only Emmons did the opposite of Socrates—he contaminated the whole town’s water supply.

“I gave him the idea,” I say, a sickness roiling my stomach.

“He said it would be a convenient way for us to have a new start,” Devyn says, confirming my thoughts. “Force the skeptics to drink the poison. Wipe it all clean.” She looks back at me. “Starting with the inner circle.”

Devyn halts, touching the wall to catch her breath. She stares at the floor. “I didn’t know he laced the wine. I didn’t know he was going to do that back there. You have to believe me, Halen.”

I’m not sure what I believe, but I study scenes, the evidence. The logical story that is revealed beneath the mystery. That’s what I know. And if I was investigating the scene we left behind tonight, I would uncover intent with a cold malice.

“You made Bethany a shrine because you loved her.”

She pulls herself upright. “Instead of letting her become just another one of his failures to be sacrificed, I gave her to you.” She meets my eyes. “I offered you a scene only you could decode. I wanted you to stop him.”

“Because if I was the one, then you wouldn’t have to betray him.”

“Even after what he’s done, I didn’t want to hurt him. Not after all that he’s sacrificed for me.” Her vibrant brown eyes sheen with banked moisture. “But there just wasn’t enough time.”

The mention of our limited time raises the hairs along the back of my neck. “We have that time now.”

Her smile is crestfallen. “Only because I abandoned him.”

Without another word, she navigates the hallways, our steps echoing against the emptiness. The silence is unsettling. My bare feet slap the cool floor as I glance around in search for security or a shift employee—coming to a sudden halt at the wet feel beneath my toes.

Instinctively, I look down. Dark red pools on the concrete. I follow the blood to a discarded body, the neck slashed.

Emmons has reached the height of desperation, removing anyone who stands in his way, even the people he swore an oath to protect in his town.

Farther ahead, Devyn pushes through a door, and I speed my steps, tracking a trail of blood behind, feeling just as desperate. I match her quick pace once we enter into the main water filtration and treatment area—the system that feeds the town’s water supply.

“Christ, Devyn.” The warren of pipes that line the space feels impossible. It’s not just everyone in Hollow’s Row that will be affected, but possibly the neighboring towns as well.

The species of hemlock that was cultivated in the marshland grove, once ingested, results in extreme nausea, convulsions, and then death. All within minutes.

I shove my hands through my hair. “Shit. Where do we start?” I ask, trying and failing to follow the maze of pipes to a source. I straddle one of the blue pipes and grab hold of the valve lever. It’s impossible to turn. “Why are you just standing there?”

With a calm countenance, Devyn walks to a wall panel with a red alarm light mounted on top and flips the cover open, the panel having already been unlocked. My heart thumps painfully in my chest, the sounds of the facility muffled by the roar in my ears as I watch her run her finger down the row…then push a button.