“Should we call for a ride?” I ask.
Paige pulls out her cell phone. “I’ve got no reception out here. What about you?”
I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out my phone. The screen is shattered, and the phone case has melted around the device. It’s a horrible thing to admit, but I’m devastated to think that my phone is ruined.
Then I realize that Paige lost her computer, and guilt settles on me. Her laptop is everything—her work, her life—Christ, even her investigation into her mother. She tries to tell me not to worry about it, that she had backups to the cloud, but I still worry that she might have lost something that couldn’t be replaced.
We take inventory of what we have left. Paige still has her wallet, her cell phone, and the gun Fiona gave her tucked into the back of her jeans. I still have the pendulum around my neck, and Paige still has the veil in her pocket.
We continue our walk back to civilization along the dark, quiet road. Paige tells me what happened tonight. Once Dudley had taken over my body, Melchora attacked me. It distracted the demon and prevented my killing Santa Muerte—whose death might have resulted in Elizabeth’s death as well. Then I—or Dudley—went on a rampage in the house. Melchora’s magic was nearly useless on me. Everything she tried—fire, wind, electricity—I deflected, and the spells wound up hitting the walls, the furniture, and the curtains. Within moments, the house was ablaze.
With no hope of winning this fight, Melchora retreated out of the house. She used her feathered cape to literally fly out of a window, breaking through the glass, and disappeared into the night. Once she was out, Santa Muerte was magically pulled out of the window by the invisible force. Just like at the library. Just like at Carmen’s.
As we continue down the dark road, two fire trucks with sirens blaring screech around a narrow corner. Paige and I squeeze ourselves against an embankment as they zip by, no doubt to fight the fire from below.
Paige continues her story. When the fire was too overwhelming, Fiona grabbed Paige and pulled her out of the house—while I was still inside. She tried to protest, but Fiona must have used some magic, because Paige claims Fiona carried her out like a rag doll.
Paige was frightened I would die in there. Then I emerged from the flames and collapsed on the front porch. That was when Paige sprayed me with a hose.
By the time we reach the bottom of the mountainside, the sun is rising in the east. From our position below, we can see the smoke still rising from Fiona’s property at the top of the hill, where several news helicopters hover. The normally quiet and secluded community at the top of the hills is now the focus of a lot of attention.
My gears turn, and something suddenly occurs to me. “How did they find us?” Of all the places in Los Angeles, Melchora and Santa Muerte tracked us to Fiona’s home. “No one knows we were staying at Fiona’s. And they came looking specifically for me. How did Melchora find out?”
Paige considers this. “There were only two people who knew we were staying there. Fiona…”
“Right.”
“And David.”
“Right.”
* * *
We decide to pay David a visit and confront him about the suspicious coincidence that he was the only person who knew I was staying with Fiona, yet somehow, Melchora found me. Since I’m not quite ready to confront him smelling of barbeque, and since it’s probably still dangerous to go home, Paige and I take a rideshare to the Century City mall first. I’m in dire need of warm clothes, and we could both use caffeine and breakfast. Once again, we’ve pulled an all-nighter, and we still have battles to fight.
We find a café that serves hot breakfast and hot coffee and bide our time until the first store opens at ten o’clock. We sit in the restaurant, trying to act casual despite our tattered clothes and lack of shoes and the fact that we’re covered in soot and dirt. As Paige enjoys her breakfast sandwich and the people watching that Los Angeles provides, I ask a question that’s been on my mind. “What did I look like?”
Paige stops eating and turns to me. She trembles slightly, either from the terrible memory or from the fear of telling me. No one who has ever witnessed the full episode has told me what I look like. After the first exorcism, I was rather successful in keeping myself sequestered when it was happening. But now I’ve had three episodes in the past week—two in the past twenty-four hours. That’s never happened before.
Judging by the recent aftermaths, the full demonic possession is worse now than it was when I killed Bennet. The priests never described to me what they saw, and my family banished me before I could ask. Not ever Father Ramon has seen the demon in all its unholy glory. But despite my best efforts and our success over the years, Paige has finally witnessed it.
“I want to know,” I say, coaxing her.
She shakes her head. “I don’t want to say.”
This wasn’t the answer I was expecting. “Why not?”
Paige considers her answer carefully. “I don’t want you to be afraid of yourself. I don’t want you to be afraid of being around me.”
My heart sinks. This is worse than her actually describing it. “Is it that bad?”
“It’s not what I was expecting. I mean, you’re still you. It’s still your body. Just… also…” She struggles for the right words. “Not you? Does that make sense?”
“Not even a little bit.”
She visibly deflates.
“You really don’t want to tell me?” I ask.
She shakes her head.
I consider pressuring her—demanding it from her. If I did, she would probably relent. I also understand why she doesn’t want to tell me. Paige and I are a couple of orphans in this great big city, and we sometimes tread
