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"Please don't make us restrain you, Jaime. You know we can't let her live. She knows--"
"But she's one of us. Magical."
May shook her head. "Don't--"
"She's a half-demon. That's what we call them. Demons take human form and impregnate women. The children look human, but they have special powers. The ability to control an element, or improved senses or--"
"The X-Men." The other woman rolled her eyes. "I may be a bit old for that sort of thing, but I have teenage boys, Miss Vegas. Try something a little more original, please."
"It's not just elements and senses. Like Hope. She can pick up chaos, senses it and sees--"
May cut me off with a look. "So you're telling me that sweet Hope Adams is really...a chaos demon?"
"Half-demon."
"And your companion the other day? The one Eric Botnick swore had superhuman strength? I suppose he's one of these half-demons."
"No. Werewolf."
May cast a look at the group. I couldn't see it, but everyone laughed. Then she turned back to me, her hand still on my arm, squeezing gently.
"I understand why you're doing this, Jaime. You want to protect your friends. But--" The squeeze tightened. "Please don't insult our intelligence."
I opened my mouth to protest, but knew I'd overplayed my hand...and I hadn't even been bluffing.
A smell filled the air. The slosh of liquid hitting concrete. I turned to see Don trickling gas over Hope.
I wrenched from May's grasp. May lifted a handful of gray powder and started to cast. I stopped.
"I'm sorry. I just--I just want to talk."
"Tell more tales of demons and werewolves?" the other woman scoffed.
"Why not? Couldn't there be--?"
A quick look around told me I was losing my audience. I glanced down at Hope, her small form, her faded jeans freckled with splashed gasoline, more dripping from her fingers, into the drain...
"Why kill her like that? It's a horrible way to die."
"The suffering enhances the potency," May said, voice as cool as her eyes.
"No, it doesn't."
Her face hardened, but she hid it behind a condescending smile. "You may be able to talk to ghosts, but that doesn't make you an expert on magic."
"Maybe, but I know people who can cast spells that make yours look like parlor tricks. Even for the rituals that need human sacrifice, it doesn't matter how you kill the person. It's the fact of death that counts."
I could see this wasn't getting me anywhere. "Never mind. I know you don't believe me about Hope, but if you gave her time to wake up, she could demonstrate--"
"Not interested," said the other woman--Tina, as Murray called her.
May shot Tina a look. Then she swung that look around the group. Judging their willingness to let Hope live a little longer, just to be sure there wasn't some truth to my preposterous tale. But their faces were hard. If she made the wrong decision, they'd see it as weakness--her hunger for magic overriding common sense. An unacceptable flaw to this bunch.
"No, Jaime," she said finally. "I know she's your friend--"
"She is. And if you kill my friend in front of me, exactly how willing do you think I'll be to teach you what I know? Show you how to contact the dead?"
"Don't threaten--"
