My index finger lingered on the sigil marking the sights. I reached for my elusive power and charged the sigil. I only needed enough of a charge to fire one shot, so I didn’t waste all my energy. Still, after partially charging that one symbol, my head swam and my body tingled. I had to take a second to catch my breath. Cold sweat formed on my brow and back. I still had two more sigils to fill, but I didn’t think I had enough strength to do it. I didn’t have a choice, though. I moved my left finger to the rune that read and activated spells carved into the rounds. I reached for my power again. The thick ice had started to freeze over, preventing me from reaching the magic.
It was funny how survival worked. When I was on the verge of death and fighting to live, the ice cracked open from desperation. Yet, as I used the power and it drained my energy, the ice closed over so I wouldn’t kill myself from overuse. Survival both revealed and hid the magic.
With the rune partially charged, I dropped Henrietta back onto my lap. I trembled from a cold that had seeped into my bones. When I reached into the box of ammunition, rounds scattered onto the seat and floor as I struggled to hold one.
“I can’t do it,” I said in a whisper, my voice barely strong enough to fill the silence of the cab. I should have started with the round. What was I thinking? “I can’t keep my hand steady to carve the rune.”
Dakota glanced at me as she drove. “What are you saying?”
I panted for breath. “Pull over. You need to do this for me… to save your boyfriend.”
Dakota steered the car to the curb.
“I need you to carve a fire spell for me.” Her dashboard was dusty enough, so I used my finger to trace the outline of the rune. It would serve the purpose fine. The tighter the inscription, the less energy used to create the spell. I trusted Dakota to copy a poor rendering of what I intended rather than my own shaking, left-handed fingers. A general depiction would be enough for me to mentally will the spell into the carving.
“I can’t,” she said.
“You have to. I physically can’t do it. So, get over yourself and copy that image into the round.” I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. “I’m going to rest. I need the energy. Wake me when you’re done.”
Less than a second later, Dakota shook my shoulder. I didn’t respond, preferring to remain asleep. She shook me again, burrowing her fingernails into my skin. My eyes sprang open, only to see Callie and Mel standing in the center of a pentagram. I was chained to a chair, naked and painted red with blood. The smell of smoke moved through the air, mixing with the dead rot of my family.
“Come to us,” they said in unison. “You are the key to destroying our enemies.” They chanted it like a mantra
Panicked, I scoured the area for anything to help me escape. I saw the silver coins from Medea’s house placed around the pentagram, forming a circle. They were set in a perimeter of blood—of my blood, I presumed. As I stared at the floor, the coins glowed white and the blood turned to black. A great darkness crept from the pentagram, an impossible summoning—demons no longer existed in the world, they couldn’t be brought into it.
The cold darkness shot forward and slammed into my chest, knocking the chair over. My head slammed against the cool marble floor—
And I jerked awake in Dakota’s car. The seatbelt locked, throwing me back against the seat.
“Joey,” Dakota said, placing a hand on my shoulder.
I shifted away from her, panting and shivering. I caught my breath, and my heart rate returned to non-fatal levels. “I’m okay. Just a nightmare. Fuck.” It wasn’t, though. None of my recent nightmares were actually nightmares. They were visions calling me to something. But what? I shook my head, figuring I could dwell on that later. “How’s the rune?”
Dakota held a round between her thumb and index finger. It was sloppy, though not by design. She nearly matched what I’d sketched in the dashboard dust—which was all I could have asked for. “How does it look?” she asked.
“It’ll work,” I said, taking it from her and pressing my thumb against her interpretation of the spell. “How far away are we?”
“We’re here. Is that the warehouse?” She pointed across the street to an empty lot. On the other side of it stood the warehouse we’d scouted earlier.
“That’s it.” I extended my hand to her. “The knife?”
She shook her head, but she handed it over. I clenched my teeth as I dragged the blade across my wrist. The pain ballooned and popped, coating my sight in flurries of white. I rode the wave and used it to break through the ice again. Before my exhaustion caught up to the pain, I poured power into the symbol on the round, keeping the spell’s true name in my mind to bypass the crude display of the rune. The ice sealed again and I slumped in my seat.
I glanced at Dakota. Her blonde hair
