Page 49 of Fighting My Demons

“We would sense one if they were still around. Only thing I could think of is it had to be by chance. No one entraps demons unless they want to be trapped, but where did it go if what she says is true?” Latham says.

“You think she imagined it?” I ask.

“No. Whatever she saw she thought was real, but—”

“You don’t believe her?” I ask incredulously.

“Well, I don’t see you hanging out at cemeteries. I sure as hell don’t. There has to be another reason. Destroying a headstone doesn’t conjure up demons,” Latham explains, and I have to agree.

We roam the earth just like humans and can be conjured by thought, but not randomly. Bella could conjure us to her location if she really wanted us to find her, but only if we connect with her subconsciously, like dream-walking or us marking her soul as ours.

“Latham is right. It is too random. It doesn’t even sound right. Demons don’t go hunting thirteen-year-old girls in cemeteries,” Blaine says.

“So what now?”

They both shrug, and Bella remains asleep. We don’t want to disturb her, knowing how fragile humans are when in shock, plus she really needs sleep. Hours pass as we try to figure out what or who it might have been or if it happened at all. We go over every file we have on her, but it is pointless now that we know she is in witness protection.

“Go grab that box from her place,” Latham tells me, and I groan.

I hate snooping through her stuff, but maybe I might find her panties. I quickly mist, only to reappear in her living room.

Grabbing the old box, I open it, grabbing a few newspaper clippings out. I hesitate when I am about to leave, looking at her open bedroom door. Curiosity is getting the better of me. It always amazes me what you can find in a woman's panties drawer. Like a true creep, I can’t help myself. Glancing over my shoulder, expecting to be caught, I tug the top drawer open. I pull out a handful of lacy undergarments.

“Bloody sick bastard,” Blaine says, making me jump as he appears behind me, catching me red-handed.

“Ooh, what are these? I bet you could take that,” he says, holding up a huge rubber dildo.

“Put that down,” I tell him.

He tosses it on the bed before rummaging again and making something start vibrating. Both of us rummage through the drawer, trying to find it, tossing underwear over my shoulder when I snatch up the vibrator.

“Now we're talking,” says Blaine.

“What do you think you're doing?” comes Latham’s voice.

I turn on my heel to see Latham standing behind us, a lacy pink G-string hanging off his shoulder.

“Let me just take that,” Blaine says, removing the scrap of fabric and holding it up. “I call dibs on these ones.” Blaine then pockets her panties.

I elbow him in the ribs, and he grunts.

“Stop fooling around and get back home,” Latham says, misting back out.

Blaine then punches me in the gut.

“Did you have to elbow me so hard?” he snaps while I gasp for breath.

That fucker. I start tossing her underwear back into her drawer. Were they folded? I can’t remember, but I toss them in, anyway, and the vibrator.

“Don’t forget that one,” Blaine says, pointing to the rubber dildo on the bed.

I roll my eyes at him, grabbing it, only for him to burst out laughing when it falls to the side, all floppy in my hand.

“Ha, always so limp you are,” Blaine laughs, and I mock laugh at his stupid joke.

He wipes tears from his eyes, and I smile at him before jamming it in his open mouth, making him choke on his laugh and Bella’s rubber dick. He coughs and sputters while gagging, and I laugh, misting out there before he tries to murder me.

I am still laughing when I appear back in my living room, making Latham raise an eyebrow at me. Blaine tackles me with the dildo in hand the moment he appears and pins me down.