I can’t lose him. I won’t survive this version of the afterlife without him. He’s the only thing keeping me sane—the only one that makes me feel likeme.
He’s not the one who’s supposed to fucking die.
Oxygen rages through my lungs as I sprint toward the sound of the commotion. A crack of lightning follows a deafening roar, and I almost trip over my feet, gawking at the clear sky. That looked likefire. It wasn’t a white streak but orange.
Another type of demon?
“Lynx,” I breathe, willing my body to move faster until it feels like my joints might crack against my smokey body.
I stumble to a stop when I spot two demons. Lynx glares at Tidus. No one else is around.
My body protests as I jog toward them, scanning both for injuries. Moonlight glistens against the dark liquid dripping down Lynx’s bicep. Panic drives me to sprint forward.
“Lynx, you’re hurt.” I rush to his side, grabbing his arm to inspect the wound. My neck cranes because he towers over me in his demon form.
“It’s fine,” he says but doesn’t step away, letting me angle him to get a better view. “Give it a couple of hours and it’ll be like it never happened.”
The blood seeps down his arm in a steady stream that seems to be slowing with every heartbeat. The tension eases from my shoulders.
His skin doesn’t have a sickly pallor, and he doesn’t seem to be bleeding a weird color, and no one is stressed about the wound. So I guess it’s fine. It doesn’t look life-threatening. Even if it was, what could I do about it? I can’t take him to a hospital, and it’s not like I know the first thing about playing kitchen witch.
Tidus butts my hip as if to say,You didn’t ask me if I was hurt.
I bat him away because I’m still annoyed with him. “We should still wrap it,” I tell Lynx. “Just in case.”
That seems to be his limit because he pulls away, giving me a look I can’t quite decipher, but there’s almost a flash of something vulnerable in his eyes. “I told you it’s fine.”
“And I told you I’m going to wrap it.”
I move to drag him toward the house, wondering where I might be able to get supplies. There’s running water inside the manor, but the pipes are gross and rusted—not much better than the nearby lake. I think there’s a clean-ish sheet in the upstairs cupboard that I could use as a bandage.
A high-pitched laugh carries through the night, and in the blink of an eye, Lynx’s red horns descend into his head, and his body shrinks to the size of a large human.
The party and all the people around are nowhere in my mind. I can hear some of them inside and the pump of music through the walls, but it’s nothing short of a miracle that no one saw the demons or the hellhound.
Tidus lifts his nose up into the air. His nostrils flare twice, then he’s off. Lynx and I both yell after him, but neither of us gives chase since he’s heading in the opposite direction to the house.
My attention slides to the black mark staining the ground, like someone smeared coal along the grass.
We’re sitting ducks here. We can’t live like this.
I straighten and bite the inside of my cheek, trying to think of a plan to get us out of here, or find some hidden power that will allow me to see the future. I drag Lynx inside, keeping my hand pressed against his wound while ignoring his protests.
We follow the staff stairs up to the top floor to avoid running into anyone, then head into the guest bedroom I’ve been treating as my base. He doesn’t fight me as I reinspect his arm to find that the wound is almost sealed over.
Lynx got lucky this time. What if one of those things hits an artery the next time? Or his throat meets their claws?
My stomach twists at all the possibilities that will leave us worse off. He must be choking on the same knowledge because we’re both silent, staring at his wound as if our fates are written in the pattern of the blood that’s run from it.
Slowly, I look up at him. Our gazes lock, and he frowns like he knows what I’m going to say before I even open my mouth. “Look me in the eye and tell me you’re certain more won’t keep coming.”
His throat bobs. “We’ll figure it out.”
I drop my hand from his arm and step back. I need space to think and properly gather my thoughts. “We keep saying that. ‘Figure it out’ isn’t a fucking plan, Lynx. We can’t be trapped here forever. I can’t die without making sure my parents are locked away for a long, long time, and over my dead goddamn body will I let them take this house from me.”
“I know.” His face is grim.
“Then what are we going to do about it? Saying ‘I know’ and walking around hoping for the best isn’t good enough. If our answer isn’t in the grimoire, then we need to think outside of the box.”
