“It’s a rug,” supplied Boris helpfully.
“You think a rug is going to keep me here?”
The yellow-eyed man shrugged. “Go ahead. Prove me wrong.”
Enzo scrambled to his feet, unsteady and frantic. “Watch me,” he said, and went to stop over the scorched line.
Within a second, he was flat on his ass, still within the circle. “What the fuck?” he hissed, and stood again, this time far more gingerly. “This isn’t… This shit is for demons, not people. This shit doesn’t work.”
“And yet, somehow it does,” said the yellow-eyed man. “Perhaps it’s time for an identity crisis.”
Enzo tried to escape another three times. Whenever his toe threatened to cross the line, he was violently and unceremoniously tossed to the floor.
“What the fuck?” whispered Enzo, staring up at the yellow-eyed man. Terror glistened in his eyes. Sweat gathered in droplets at his temples.
“Question one,” said the yellow-eyed man, paying him no heed. “What did you summon on October sixteenth?”
Enzo chewed his lip. “None of your business.”
“What did you summon?” repeated the yellow-eyed man calmly. Too calmly. Something about his expression made Jack feel like he’d just swallowed a razor, chased it down with lemon juice.
Sweat beaded on Enzo’s forehead. “I don’t have to tell you that.”
The yellow-eyed man only shrugged.
“Honestly, I?—”
Something wet and red dripped onto the rug.Blood, Jack realized. Sweat formed on his forehead. The soles of his feet prickled with the urge to run.
Another drop of blood. It bloomed like a rose on the white rug.
“I don’t know what it was,” Enzo blurted. “I just found it in my friend’s collection. A book. It, uh, said that if you summon her, you’ll gain her abilities. I thought that sounded promising and I—Jesus, am I sweating blood?”
“Nosebleed,” said Carla, wiping underneath her nose.
“You found a spell you didn’t understand and just followed the instructions?” said the yellow-eyed man, deadpan.
“Y-yes,” said Enzo. “I—Look, I wanted to know what I’d beable to do if I, uh,earned her abilities, as the book said. It was a pretty straightforward spell and—OH, GOD DAMN IT!”
Enzo bent over, spat out a mouthful of blood.No, not blood, Jack realized, staring at the solid mass. Tissue. Actual mouth tissue.
“I’m disintegrating,” slurred Enzo, spitting a mouthful of red goop. A yellow tooth poked free. “What the fuck?”
“The faster you answer my questions, the less damage the spell will do,” said the yellow-eyed man matter-of-factly.
“Shit,” whispered Carla, wide-eyed. “This isn’t—This is barbaric.”
Jack watched, unable to look away. It was as if someone had glued his eyelids open.
Boris inched closer to Jack, fingers closing over his forearm. The tremor in his hand was unmistakable.
“The less damage,” Enzo repeated, staring now at his fingers, which had begun to bloat like sausages. The skin around his nails bruised purple. “What the fuck kind of spell is this?”
The yellow-eyed man shrugged. “So, you don’t understand what you summoned?”
“Fuck, no! I never woulda summoned anything that could do this!”
“Do you understand how many people died as a result of you summoning something you didn’t understand?”
