He shoved me aside.My feet flew out from under me and I hit the pavement hands first.Pain tore across my palms, then up my arms as my elbows buckled and my cheek slammed into the sidewalk.The world flashed white for a heartbeat.
I rolled, heart pounding, and pushed myself up in time to see the smoke coalesce into the hulking demon from the flower shop.Horns.Tusks.Fur.
Owen stood between me and the beast, shoulders squared, fists clenched, staring it down like this happened every Tuesday.
“You’re not wanted here,” he said.
Before I could even form the wordrun, the door of Charmed & Vintage slammed open behind us.
Dougal strode out.And then everything went weirdly slow.Owen crouched, palms splayed against the asphalt.Dougal lifted his hands, fingers spread.
Fire spilled from them.
A ball of yellow-orange flame roared across the parking lot and slammed into the demon’s chest.The creature shrieked, the sound high and edged with the crackle of something burning.Dougal didn’t hesitate.He hurled another blast, and another, each one hitting with sickening precision until the demon buckled, melted, and collapsed into a wheezing heap.
Black smoke bled off its carcass in sluggish curls, then unraveled completely, disappearing on an unfelt breeze.
The demon was gone.
I blinked hard, my breathing ragged, half-expecting to see someone on the sidewalk pointing, screaming, calling 911.Instead, people strolled along the sidewalk, chatting, glancing into shop windows, completely unbothered.
As if nothing had happened.
As if there hadn’t been a monster and a fireball in the middle of downtown.
“What…” My voice came out a croak.“What just—”
The last trace of smoke faded.Dougal wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and turned to Owen.
“It shouldn’t bother you anymore,” he said.
“I could’ve handled it,” Owen muttered.“I was handling it.”
“Now it’s done,” Dougal replied.
“Wait a second.”I pushed to my feet and planted myself beside Owen.My scraped palms stung; my cheek throbbed.“I don’t understand any of this.”
Neither of them answered me.Owen’s hands were still fists.His jaw worked like he was grinding down words he didn’t want to say.
“I was protecting Piper,” he snapped at his father.“That’s my job, not yours.”
“Protecting Piper?”I echoed, my voice going thin.
They kept ignoring me.
“Next time, you get rid of the demon before it comes back a third time,” Dougal said.“I saw it at the funeral home, son.You did nothing.”
“I did what I thought I had to do,” Owen shot back.“I was trying not to draw unnecessary attention.”
I stepped between them, hands on my hips, forcing them both to look at me.My heart was still racing, fueled by fear and irritation in equal measure.
“What is going on here?”I demanded.
For a beat, both men blinked at me.Like they’d truly forgotten I existed.
“I think you’d better come inside, Piper,” Dougal said at last.He jerked his head toward the door.“My son and I will explain everything.”
Owen reached for my hand—then stilled when he saw my palms.His jaw tightened.
