Ryder plowed forward, trying to push me out of the way before the demon reached me. But the demon jagged to one side, going around me.
That’s when I realized I was not his target.
Ryder was.
I pivoted, trying to reverse my momentum to stop the demon before he reached Ryder. But I was off my footing, and the grass was damp from the morning dew. My running shoes caught, then gave, slipping out from beneath me, wrenching my ankle. I went down on my hands and knees.
“No!” I yelled.
Ryder threw his arms up to guard his face, but the demon came in low and tackled him. I pushed up, twisting back to get to them as they wrestled.
Ryder grunted in pain as the thing tore at him like a rabid wolf. He couldn’t throw it off.
I scrambled forward but before I could fully gain my feet, the demon roared and then, was still.
Bathin stood above the demon and Ryder, smoke rising from his fists.
“Holy shit,” Patrick said, from the edge of the yard. “He just killed that guy. He just killed him!”
I should be dealing with that. I should be protecting our town’s secrets. But Ryder was still under the demon, and he wasn’t moving. It seemed like he hadn’t been moving for minutes. Hours.
“Ryder?” I heard myself say from somewhere at a long distance.
“I filmed it. I got it on film.”
“Give me your phone,” Myra said.
“Like hell. I just saw a guy die. He’s been murdered.”
“He,” Myra insisted, “was part of our murder mystery.”
“Do you see?” Rossi said in a hypnotic tone that made it feel like there was a buzz in my ears I needed to scratch out. “Do you see him sitting up now?” he went on. “Yes, he is fine. A very good actor.”
“He’s…it’s an act?” Patrick asked.
“Yes, of course. The play. Practice for the play,” Rossi said. “Just as Officer Reed explained.”
“But…his eyes were glowing.”
“We have an excellent make-up department,” Rossi said.
“I need your phone,” Myra said. “We can’t allow any filming of the event until the actual day of the event. Which is tomorrow.”
I was on my knees next to Ryder, and reached out to pull the demon off him, panic making my hands shake.
“Don’t move,” Bathin said quietly. “Let Rossi finish with the leprechaun.”
That’s when I felt the hum of magic: a sticky hot push and pull drifting across my exposed skin. Not sandpaper, but too many fingers that caught and tugged before letting go to catch again. A hundred sticky vines searching for purchase.
There was magic in the air: Patrick’s. There was illusion in the air: Rossi’s. There was dark power in the air: Bathin’s.
It was a lot.
For a moment it was an nexus point, three colliding dark enchantments vying for dominance.
I waited, studying Ryder’s face for any sign of movement.
“You want to give the officer your phone,” Rossi said.
