Page 40 of Malice

Tick-tock, Florence.

The demon speaks to me using the woman’s voice. A chill runs through me and I shake myself, holding out my hands defensively.

“Get out,” I whisper and imagine white light encasing my body, acting like a shield. What I’m doing isn’t magic, but a basic technique taught to us by the Order. Demons often try to get in your head when you’re hunting them. They try to confuse you, fill you with doubts, or make you not trust your reality.

I’ve never had one talk directly to me like this.

Balling my fingers into fists, I exhale heavily and whirl around, looking in the mirror. I’m naked, about to get in the shower, but that doesn’t stop me from staring right into my own eyes.

“If you’re in my head, get the fuck out,” I say through gritted teeth. “Or help me out a bit here. You want freedom more than you want my soul.” Suddenly feeling like the grasp on my mind has been lifted, I exhale and close my eyes in a long blink. The pain in my right hand is gone, but when I look at my hand, the center of my palm is bright red and irritated, just like it was when the demon stabbed it with the tip of the quill.

I rub the center of my palm with my thumb, annoyed that now both hands are injured again, and then get in the shower. The water stings both hands and I internally grumble at how difficult it’s going to be to shampoo my hair.

I manage, and shower rather quickly, eager to go through the Book of Shadows Mabel’s friend gave me. Maybe there’s something in there that could help me sever whatever connection the demon has with me. Signing in the contract in my own blood bound us, and being blood-bound to anything is never good.

Only wrapped in a towel, I go out of the bathroom and into the room, sinking down on the bed.

Tick-tock, Florence.

My heart skips a beat and I can’t tell if I’m remembering what was said or if the demon’s voice is echoing in my head. Over and and over. Again and again, reminding me that I don’t have much time left before my contract is up.

Someone knocks at the door and I jump. Man, I need to get it together.

“Who is it?” I ask, knowing Xavier isn’t going to knock to come into his own room.

“Me,” Mabel replies.

“Come in,” I tell her and the door opens and closes behind her.

“Your heart is beating fast,” she comments. “Are you okay?”

“Just a little frazzled, but yeah. I’m fine.”

“Considering,” she adds, raising her eyebrows. “You don’t have to pretend.”

“I know. Not with you at least.”

She beams and comes over, sitting on the edge of the bed next to me. Mabel is my friend and I trust her with my life. Yet I don’t want to burden her with my trauma, not after I know what she went through and why she is the way she is.

“I like your brothers,” she tells me. “They kind of remind me of one of my sons that wasn’t turned. He got married and had three kids. And they had kids. Those kids have kids. I’ve never met them.”

“Is it weird knowing you have a family that exists out there like that?”

She shrugs. “Only if I tell myself it’s weird. We don’t have much time. I should do your hair now if you want me to do it for you.”

“For what?” I ask.

“The VC called an emergency meeting. Xavier has to go and you’re going with.”

“Oh, uh, okay.” I let out a sigh. “I’m tired.”

“I can only imagine. Actually, it’s hard to know. I haven’t felt tired in that sense for over a hundred years. We can go a while without sleep, you know. As long as we have blood.”

“Must be nice,” I chide and then wrinkle my nose. “Maybe? Maybe not.”

Mabel laughs. “I only have dreams every once in a while.” She gets up, speeding over to the closet, and returns with a robe.

“Do you know what this meeting is about?” I ask as I put the robe on first and then shimmy out of my towel.