“Junk. Furniture we meant to get rid of. The kids’ text books from college.” Henry inched to the edge of the couch. “But what was that thing?”
Nora released a whimper and trembled. “The devil. It looked right through me.”
Henry wrapped an arm around his wife and brought her closer, but his attention never left Gunn. “Give it to us straight. How much time do we have before it returns?”
“I’d say not long.”
Nora curled in on herself. Scaring people wasn’t his thing, but they had to understand the truth. “Unless we stop that demon,” he said, “it will end up possessing one of us, then jump to the next person and the next, killing us.”
Henry nodded his head as if Gunn had simply spoken about the weather, but the trepidation splashed across his face screamed that he was feeling the opposite. “What can we do to help?”
If Gunn knew, he would have done it already. “Grab a piece of paper and jot down everything you stored up on the top floor, especially electrical gadgets or appliances. Also, do you have an electrical socket there, as well? Where and how many?”
Henry was on his feet, brushing down his puffy vest with shaky hands covered in liver spots. The man resembled his foster dad, who, despite his age, had always been up for a challenge. “Only one outlet in the attic, near the back wall. We’ll get right on the list.”
Gunn patted Henry’s shoulder as he headed to the cabinet. “I’ll protect you all with my life.”
“Son, I would never ask you to give your life for mine. We do this together.” He turned to rummage through the drawers and pulled out a notebook and pen. His words rolled through Gunn’s head. It was a first to have a victim offer to fight. Most froze with horror.
The fire in the hearth tossed shadows across Cyra’s sweet face. Both turned toward the curtained window, and he asked, “What’s up?”
The floorboards creaked upstairs, followed by a loud boom. Cyra stared up at the ceiling as the chandelier shuddered, crystals swaying. “It knows we’re trapped in the house. So we need to act first.” Her arms wrapped around herself.
“It’ll be okay, you’ll see.” He had to believe that he’d get Cyra and the old couple out alive.
Cyra glanced toward Henry and back at Gunn. “Why didn’t the demon attack you when you rescued me upstairs, or throw you inside the portal as well?”
“No idea .” He wasn’t sure where she was going with this, and in all honesty, with one problem after another, it hadn’t crossed his mind. He ran his fingers across his stubbled jawline as he considered. “So why didn’t it toss me in there?”
“Maybe it’s only after me.” She curled a finger around a lock of her silver hair. “Every time I’ve done a spell, I’ve felt watched. Downstairs when I blessed the house. Outside in the yard, and when I prepared the reversal spell. Even when I cursed that darn goose, something prickled my flesh. I think my magic is calling it.” She ruminated further. “What if it was calling its hellhounds? How else would those creatures have found me so quick? Maybe it’s a Legion and we’re the sacrifice? What if this time, a Legion made it out of Hell? It would definitely plan to cause mass destruction.” Her voice lowered , and he noted the quiver in her words.
An Argos demon specialist had once told him about how the mutts and magic worked. “For hellhounds to leave the Underworld, they need enormous amounts of pure, human energy and an enchantment. You’re a walking explosive for them. If it brought a pack of the hounds into our world, it would be impossible to defeat.”
Cyra’s lips pinched.
“That’s why we’ve got to bring down the bastard now.” He pushed the long sleeves of his T-shirt to his elbows. His first idea was the straightforward approach. March up there and duke it out, take out the beast. He had his lasso and a vial of holy water left, which wasn’t enough, but it had to do. Unless Cyra would give him some magical protection or weapons. He needed to tag the demon upstairs, where it was trapped with fewer electrical outlets to recharge from.
The lights overhead flickered and died.
Nora cried out, and only the blazing fireplace lit up the living room, crackling and spitting like an angry volcano. Yep, the demon was readying to attack again.
“We need to bait it,” Cyra suggested, her words quickening.
“Exactly my thoughts. I’ll need any magical help you can provide. Then I’m taking it down. You keep the old folks safe because I don’t know how this will go down.”
Her eyebrows furrowed. “We’re facing the demon together.”
He reached out to take her hand, untangling her folded arms. “Please, Cyra. Nothing you say or do will make me change my mind. You are not coming with me. I won’t put you in danger. Ever!”
Cyra’s nose wrinkled, and she wrenched her arm back. “I’m not letting you kill yourself.” Her voice climbed.
When a startled intake of breath came from behind him where the old couple were, he gritted his teeth.
He grasped her elbow and guided her out into the hallway near the front door.
She pulled free. “You can’t stop me from helping you.” The pleading and her desperate expression tugged on his heart, but this was not a point of negotiation.
“Cyra. I can’t control what will happen. And I don’t want to put you… us in that situation.”
Her chin trembled, but still, she stiffened her posture. “And do you think I can live knowing I let you die? It’s potentially a Legion, Gunn! What if you can’t take it down? It’s better to have reinforcements.”
“Fuck, I get it, but I’m not budging on this.” Having someone have his back for this would be incredible, but it wasn’t possible. “This conversation is over. I’m
