“So she’s going to stay here, hide here, until we find her. That works for us.”
I reached into my pocket where I’d tucked away a little string. A string cut by Death’s blade, bound by a unicorn/demon horn. A string that had closed a vortex and been used to bind together the above and below.
I pulled a lighter out of my other pocket, and set fire to the string.
It must have been wool—the knitting group used good quality fiber, even in their yarn bombings—it caught fast and burned hot.
“Myra,” Bathin warned, startled. “What are you doing?”
“My job.” I whispered a very short spell. It was not a binding. It was a trigger.
His eyes narrowed. “You don’t want to do that.”
I exhaled, blowing out the fire before it scorched my fingertips, and at that moment, the spell I’d traced across my wooden floor flared to life.
Bathin threw his hands up in the air. “A demon trap? How…unoriginal. What good is that going to do?”
“It’s going to keep you here while we find your mother.”
“Then what?”
“Then we’re going to make her use the scissors on you, get back Delaney’s soul, and kick you both out of Ordinary.”
The muscles in his jaw jumped as if he were itching to chew through stones. A mountain. An entire mountain range. Chew through a mountain range and spit out the gravel. Then he sat on the hearth. “She won’t do what you want. Making her do anything you want is impossible.”
“Yeah, well, this might be Ordinary, but that doesn’t mean I am.”
“Myra,” Delaney said, “I need to talk to you in the kitchen.”
That was her big sister voice. She was going to try to argue me out of my plan. Not that I had a plan.
“Don’t let him out of the trap,” I said.
“Like I’d know how.” Jean flopped down on my couch and pulled out her phone.
“Don’t give him anything that will break the line.”
“Got it,” she said.
“And don’t listen to him.”
“Myra,” Jean looked up from her phone, “I know. I know how to handle a suspect in jail. I know how to handle a demon in a trap. Okay?”
I followed Delaney into the kitchen. She leaned on the counter in front of the sink, the window behind her. “Have you lost your mind?”
I stuck my hands in my pockets. “No. I’m thinking very clearly. How about you?”
“I think my sister is trying to deal with that demon out there on her own. Am I wrong?”
“Yes.”
“So who have you talked to about whatever it is you started out there?”
“All of you. For the last year. But none of you have been listening to me. You’re too stubborn. Jean thinks Bathin’s a good guy. And Ryder wouldn’t tell you you’re wrong if his life depended on it.”
“That’s not true,” she said, and yeah, she had a point. Ryder argued with Delaney probably more than any of us. “What’s really going on with you?”
“I’m trying to get your soul back. From a demon who has somehow made everyone in town think he’s a good guy.”
