Something strange was happening.
The windshield wipers swished across the glass, squeaking on the dry surface. Back and forth. Squeak. Squeak. Squeak. Air shuddered inside my chest.
“Stop,” I whispered into the phone.
Click.
The call ended, but the radio still played. A female singer crooned through the speakers. The low timbre of her voice rose the gooseflesh on my arms. I quickly replaced the tin and tried to cover any mess I’d made. My mind repeated the same warning over and over.
Get out of the van. Run.
Over my head, the dome light winked out, plunging the van into darkness. My muscles tensed as I slowly dragged my gaze back to the front of the vehicle and looked through the pitted windshield. Air lodged in my throat, holding back my scream.
A man stood in front of the van. His tree trunk-sized legs were braced apart, thickset arms crossed over his chest, head cocked at a sinister angle. The skin on his face was pockmarked, and his eyes were almost completely black. A thick metallic odor reached my nose through the open door. I’d bet my demon blade the man outside had a long scar on his palm.
I bolted out the side of the van, landing awkwardly on the pavement. His gaze tracked my movement as I lurched between a row of parked cars. Keeping my head low, I moved as fast as I could without revealing my location. His footsteps echoed in my ears, and I froze with my back against a car door.
The fire exit was only a few feet away, but I had to cross out into the open to reach it. I inhaled sharply and pushed off the car, racing toward the exit. My heart thudded in my chest as I reached the door and slammed the metal bar. The door swung open with a hydraulic hiss.
I clambered down a series of concrete steps and entered an alley. On the last step, my heel caught the edge, and I went down. Gravel abraded my palms. My ankle throbbed inside my strappy sandal. Painful tears blurred my vision as I struggled to my feet.
The fire door shushed closed behind me. I had seconds to decide my next move. Running on my injured ankle was out of the question—I’d never make it in time. It figured I’d end up wearing a skirt and heels to my first demon attack. The outfit hindered any chance of a successful sprint.
Nope, the better option was to hide and live to fight another day—hopefully sometime months into the future, after I’d been through enough combat training montages to make any action movie aficionado happy. But first, I had to make it look as if I ran. Slipping off one of my sandals, I chucked it down the alley, using a waft of magic to drift it into a distant pool of light. With only seconds remaining, I slipped off my other shoe for balance and huddled behind a large stack of wooden pallets and empty food crates.
The fire door crashed open, slamming with a loud crack against the brick. I winced and held my breath. Heavy footsteps thumped against the concrete as the door swung closed, leaving me alone in the alley with the demon.
I watched him through the thin slats of the crates. He scanned the alley, spotting my shoe at a distance. His boots splashed through murky puddles, and he bent to retrieve it. He kept going, moving farther and farther from my hiding place. The ruse had worked, and he’d assumed I lost my shoe in a mad dash to the main road.
Air hissed through my teeth, the pressure releasing from my chest as he neared the end of the alley. Nothing like a little quick thinking and an optimal hiding spot to avoid my first fight with a demon. Most hunters would have stood their ground, blades blazing, but my backup was likely still sitting at the bar chatting up our suspect about sports teams.
One look at the demon, and I knew the odds of this fight were not in my favor. The monster was built like a barn, and his colossal frame took up almost the entire entrance to the alley. No wonder Gwen from the historical society had been nervous talking with him. He looked more like a bouncer than a staff member at the university.
I squinted to keep him in focus and placed a finger under my nose to help ward off the smell of rotting food and the foul metallic scent he left in his wake. Clutching my shoe, my fingernails dug into my palm, nearly piercing the skin. Why was he still standing there?
Oh, sweet Hecate, no.
I realized my mistake when he turned back toward the alley, nose angled up to the air. Caden’s voice thundered through my mind, warning me to cloak my magic. My head dropped to my chest in irritation as I performed the belated spell, but it was too late to fool the demon. He knew my shoe was a decoy and I was still in the alley.
He discarded my sandal over his shoulder and walked back the way he came. Stifling a whimper, I reached for my demon bracelet, reversing the spell until it changed shape. I gripped the hilt of my dagger, swearing to any magical entity listening that if I made it out of this alive, I’d follow Caden’s orders without question. Forever and ever.
Most of them . . .
Maybe.
All right, fine, I’ll at least sit through an, “I told you so.”
The demon drew closer. Shoving his beefy arms against a metal dumpster, he sent the contraption smashing into the brick. He flipped the lid, reached inside, and thrashed around until he was certain I wasn’t hiding in the garbage.
I adjusted my grip on the blade as he quit the dumpster and prowled toward the pallets. No doubt about it: I was going to have to fight this thing. But it was better to do it on my terms than let him find me cowering on the pavement.
Taking a few breaths that felt more like hyperventilating, I lunged from my crouched position, rolling past him to place myself at the open end of the alley.
He whirled, swinging an arm. It missed my nose by an inch, and I was nowhere near able to gain control of the appendage with my magic. I may have stopped a water bottle from hitting me earlier, but a demon’s fist was a different story.
I tried to even my breathing and remember some semblance of my training. What had the books said? There may have even been a pamphlet.
Keep your center of gravity low to the ground. Feet squared. Stay focused and commit to the attack. Hit first, quickly, and without warning.
