A scream.
Followed by the familiar sound of the demon laughter.
My heart races, and I reach for my phone. It’s not on me. Crap. It’s in my jeans, in the car, three miles away. Crap. Crap. Crap.
The CEASE Squad Handbook flashes in my head. Never let them know you’re following. Blend in.
I can’t do anything without magic. I know I should keep going and ignore this, but that goes against everything I was trained to do. What if that was Connie out there? I’d want someone to save her, even a Static. I’d want someone to try.
I shouldn’t go. I should go to my car.
The scream pierces the air again.
Without another thought I run toward it.
There’s some sort of demon nest in the back of the trail. There are four total, at least that I can see. One is black and scaly, and the others are in human form. I can tell even twenty feet away and from behind some trees that the Nons are dead. Their skin is too yellowed, too thin to be alive. The black demon in its true form drags a girl behind it across the ground. I’m almost certain she’s dead too. If not, she’s in for a lot of pain.
Another demon comes out of the woods and into the small clearing. This is weird. There shouldn’t be a demon gathering in the middle of a public trail like this. Demons work alone, not in packs unless they’re shifters. But these aren’t shifters, only regular old demons. Something big is happening; there’s no way this is normal. I need to get back to my phone and tell the Enforcers.
The new demon, a blue one, drags the Non girl to her feet. She’s alive—has been all along—and my heart drops. She’s not a Non; she’s a witch, because she’s answering whatever it’s asking. No Non could see one of these things, could face it directly, and hold it together. I should help her, and I move to do so, but then I remember I can’t. I don’t have magic. They will get to me before I get to her. My eyes scan the scene, trying to find another way.
“Nothing,” she half yells, half sobs in the black one’s face.
The demon asks something back. The witch girl screams, a blood-curdling sound, then the demon plunges a black dagger into her chest. My hands fly to my mouth as she exhales. There’s this burst of magic—bright and illuminating—that explodes around her like candy from a piñata. I’ve never seen magic do that. They didn’t take her essence for themselves; they released it. The witch falls to her feet and the blue demon slices her neck with a set of claws.
None of this makes sense. They killed her—and not in the normal way, by draining her blood and then taking her essence. There was no bloodlust. Just a dagger, fireworks, and death. Why would they waste the magic that way? Why are they working together? What are they looking for?
One of them sniffs the air and another follows. I step back into the trees, but I know it’s too late. They’ve found me. But I run anyway.
All I notice for the first twenty seconds is feet and ground. Then trees and ground. Then my heartbeat racing against the pulsing of my feet. A tree branch snags on my shirt and the fabric rips while I race forward. I can’t stop. There’s no way this is how I’m going to go down.
I turn, and two demons stand right in front of me. I have to stop running so I don’t race directly into their arms. Demon eyes peer out from paper-thin, graying human skin, and what used to be hair is now more like brittle string. One’s male, one female. Neither of them is happy to see me.
I cross my arms and exhale deeply. “Whew, you guys scared me.” That was probably not the right word. I flash a smile and run in place.
“Need to keep the heart rate up,” I say.
There’s something else hidden in their eyes. I’m not fooling them. They know I was there. I saw them do whatever they did to that witch. I have to get out of here.
“Have a nice day,” I say. It’s lame, but maybe it will work! Maybe they’re regular old dumb demons. I race past them in a jog. They don’t stop me. They let me pass. Thank God. I want to go home. This is possibly the dumbest idea I’ve ever had and—
“Not so fast,” the male says, grabbing me from the side. Its hands are rubbery around my arm. It runs its nose along my neck, sniffing.
“You saw us back there. We smelled you.”
They smelled me—how? Demons sense the essence, and I don’t have that. But they keep saying that to me. I file that away to research later. If there is a later. Maybe I need a new body wash.
The other one joins it, its bristly hair running across my neck. “This little witch smells different.”
I laugh. “It’s called sweat. It’s what happens to the living. You know, exercise and all that.”
The first one snickers. At least I make someone laugh. “That’s not it, little witch.”
“I’m five eight,” I say. “I’m hardly ‘little.’ You obviously have the wrong girl.”
The woman demon laughs. “I think we have the right one. Don’t you?”
“I do. Kriegen said the witch would smell different.”
Who’s Kriegen? It’s probably not good that I smell different. There’s no way that’s a good thing when a demon is saying it. When they keep saying it to me.
One of them mutters something, and my hands are tied together by magic. I curse, and the female demon yanks my head back by my hair.
“Let’s take her in,” it hisses.
Panicked, I lock into the things I’ve been doing with Carter. I try to imagine him beside me, guiding me, and focus on the magic, even though it won’t come since he’s not here. I shuffle on my feet. It’s hard to keep my balance with my hands bound, but somehow I keep my movements fluid. I jam my knee into the male demon’s stomach. It doubles over, hands clenching its abdomen. I swipe my feet across its legs. It crashes to the ground with a heavy thud.
The female hisses at me, trying to grab me, but I dodge it. My leg lashes out at it, connecting with a solid blow; it doesn’t fall. It kicks me hard in the side, and my ribs protest in pain. I collapse on the ground, gasping in sharp breaths.
The male demon crawls to its feet as the woman rushes at me, punching me until my lip bleeds, the taste of iron filling my mouth. I struggle beneath its weight, thrashing and bucking it off me. My hands are useless, still tied by magic, so I jab with my elbows, again and again, determined to hit something.
One blow smashes into its head as it rolls off me. I flip on top of the woman, digging my elbows and knees into its chest and thigh, pinning it down as best I can. I rip the salt out of my pocket. It’s falling toward its face when the male grips me by the neck and tears me off the other demon. It’s not as nice as the female was. Its magic anchors my feet to the ground and now I’m useless. Completely useless.
I close my eyes and wish that I had magic. I try to envision it, to feel it—the growing heat and pull of the power, the hope that comes with it. But nothing happens.
The demons each take an arm and pull me through the woods.
We’re halfway back to the demon nest when something stirs inside me. At first it’s only a little twinge, a little like the ground has shifted, but then it’s something else. It’s warmer and rooted, growing, sort of like sunshine coming through parted clouds. My hands twitch at the sensation and my heart lunges in my chest. This is magic.
Carter’s here. That’s impossible. How would he find me out here? There’s no way.
But this is his magic. This is what it feels like. He has to be nearby.
I picture my hands being free as I let the magic fill me. My hands tingle, warm, and then I can move them. It worked! Carter is here. That’s the only explanation. I keep my hands together so dumb and dumber don’t expect anything.