“I was getting hungry,” it says. It licks my face with a sticky, sandpaper tongue. I cringe at the putrid smell of his saliva.
“Gross,” I say.
I don’t want to hurt the Non, but I have no choice. I kick it in the gut once, twice, three times, and turn to run, but it stops me with magic that sends me down. Crap. There aren’t many of them with magic; most are just freaky-evil strong. Demons with magic used to be witches, or are demons descended from ex-witches. Magic’s passed on, through blood, whether that’s demon or witch.
“I promise I’m not what you want,” I say. I can’t move my arms. Or legs. I can’t move anything. This is the same feeling I had when I was a kid. The same kind of claustrophobia and panic takes over. I try to stay calm, but I have no way out of this and my stomach clenches as I resist the urge to fight free. It would be pointless.
“Witch is exactly what I want,” it says. Its eyes flicker under his human form, and its fingernail stretches out into a claw. A claw dangerously close to my neck.
“Good thing there’s a two-for-one-deal today,” Carter tells it from the tree above us. I can’t lie—just seeing him there is reassuring.
“All you can eat.” He winks at me, and my eyes find the small shimmer of the magic shield surrounding us, keeping anyone from seeing what’s about to happen. Carter works fast.
The demon laughs. The human skin shakes at the sound, trembles like whoever’s inside is terrified. He should be. “You’ll be dessert, then.”
“Dessert? I’m more main course material,” Carter says, then hurls salt toward the demon and jumps from the tree. In human form, the salt only stings, no sizzle, but it’s enough that the demon releases me under from its power. I feel so rejuvenated by Carter’s magic that I force the demon to move against its will. It rams into the light post, and screams at the impact of metal on its skin.
“Good thinking,” Carter says, suddenly beside me.
I inhale, but my magic is wailing, a frenzy inside me. I want to let it go. To destroy the demon. Carter rests a hand on my arm. “We need to save the Non,” he whispers.
The human skin is thinning, turning browner in some parts where the iron is burning through to the demon. We’re weakening them both. I hate possession. If we kill the demon in the Non form, then the Non dies. If we expel the demon from the Non, then the human is freed—but the demon doesn’t go back to hell.
Carter says an incantation and I watch the Non shake before he falls to the ground. Black dust oozes from his ears, the aftermath of possession, but the demon is gone.
I lean down and press my fingers to his neck. There’s a pulse. Barely. Carter pulls me up by the arm. “We have to go.”
I yank my arm away. “We can’t leave him here.”
“I’ll spell a Non to find him. We can’t be seen here,” he says, his voice soft.
I can’t bear the thought of leaving him here in case he dies, but we run. We’re only four blocks away when I hear the sirens and I lean over and rest my hands on my thighs. Carter touches my back and I recoil.
“We had to leave him,” Carter says. “There would be too many questions. He won’t remember anything this way.”
That’s the only benefit of saving the Non. They don’t remember, but they never feel right again. Never normal. Even if they can’t remember.
“If he survives,” I say.
Carter sighs. “He has a chance now. If we hadn’t found him, he’d be long gone and you know it.”
This is the part of our calling that isn’t fair. The number of people who die in our pursuit for survival and safety. It’s not just Nons—it’s witches, too.
“Hey,” Carter says, pulling at my arm until I look at him. “It’s not like I enjoy this either.”
I start to say something about it when our phones ring—the WNN. He looks at it. “That’s our guy.”
“It followed me from the Metro. That’s strange, right?”
“Demons are strange lately.”
I raise my eyebrow. “There are so many. More than usual, and they’re increasing their attacks. It’s like the demons are targeting something and it feels—”
“What?”
“It feels wrong.” I pause, struggling for the right way to say it. “That’s not how they usually work. What’s going on?”
Carter shrugs. “I don’t know, but I’d love to find out.”
“Me, too.”
His phone rings again. He turns away from me, muttering words into the receiver. I can’t tell what he’s saying, but his tone is enough to tell me our afternoon is done. When he turns back around, he seems tired again, more stressed. “That was my dad; I have to go.”
“He calls and you have to jump?”
“That’s how it works in my world.”
I raise an eyebrow. “People jump for you?”
“Most of them,” he says, eyeing me. “I met one lately who’s more stubborn than the rest.”
“I bet she’s a handful. Why would you put up with it?”
“I like the challenge. She keeps me on my toes,” he says. I watch him, afraid to move in case he notices how much I’m staring or how fast my heart is pounding. He leans in to hug me. I’m not expecting it, but my body melds against his without me telling it to. “I was scared when I saw your text,” he says.
“I can protect myself,” I say. Even though really, without him or Connie, I can’t. He doesn’t call me out on it though.
Carter separates from me, but his face is still close to mine. So close that I can feel the stubble growing on his chin. His lips are right freaking there and everything inside my brain is telling me to turn my head and press my lips against his. I shake away the thought. I can’t do that. We are not in that place. I only texted him because I didn’t have anyone else, and he’d mentioned coming into the city earlier.
A small chuckle fills my ear, “I have no doubt.”
Carter doesn’t look away from me. In fact, I’m pretty sure he leans closer to me. I brace myself, knees bent so I don’t fall over. Nothing inside me is working as his lips get closer to mine. So close that they almost touch mine—but then he steps away.
“See you tomorrow,” he says, moving away without looking back at me. It’s a good thing. If he’d looked back he’d see that I’m a pile of mush sprawled out on the ground. That’s what happens when the thing you want more than life itself and the thing you didn’t expect to want are in battle for your heart and head.
There are no survivors.
I am so amped up from using Carter’s magic that I have to go on a run. I have to work it off so I can focus again. I get home an hour later and Ric is sitting on my front porch. One look at him and I know he’s pissed. I forgot about dinner.
“Ric—”
He stands, revealing a white bag on the step. “I got your favorite while I waited for you to not show up. It’s probably cold now.”
“I’m sorry. It was a demon.”
“A demon?”
I nodded. “It attacked me in the open. Carter and I had to—”
“Carter?” he asks. “You were with him?”
I nodded.
“Just like you were practicing with him when I called?” He says it quickly and continues, “I know you lied to me about that. I saw him across the street when I asked you. I get he’s your partner, but I’m still your best friend. At least I thought.”
I shake my head. “It’s not you, Ric. I’m sorry I’ve been busy with all of this…”
“I’m busy with the test, too, but I still make time for you.”
“It’s not the test, Ric.”
“What is it? What’s going on, Penelope? You’ve been weird ever since you met Carter.”
“It’s complicated,” I say.
Ric crosses his arms. In the twelve years we’ve known each other, we’ve never had a fight. Not a real one. I don’t know what to do with this. I can’t tell him anything. It would mean explaining too much, and I don’t have answers.