I roll forward, over and over, until I’m straddling his neck with my thighs, holding him to the ground.
He snaps at me and I reach down and grab his head, twisting it to the right then left, then I’m pushing over again until I’m on my knees and his head is still in my hands.
I use the energy to swing him off the ground by his head until his neck snaps and he disappears to dust, the ashes burning my skin.
But there’s no time to take pleasure in my first kill.
The second spikey-haired boy is coming at me, teeth snapping, fingers turning to claws as it swipes at me.
But it swipes at air.
I push off the ground again, go flying over his head, using the gravity and air around me to manipulate me until I’m back on my feet and facing him and the punk-ass.
“That all you pussies got?” I say to them.
As expected, being called a pussy really pisses them off.
So predictable.
They both charge toward me and I wish to god I had Max’s sword, because I could really work some magic here and take off two heads at once, but alas, that’s not to be.
So I jump straight up then leap toward the wall of the alley, pushing off it, doing a back flip until I’m on the shoulders of the spikey-haired fuck and I’m grabbing his head and screaming until I’m able to twist his head right off, tossing it behind me before it turns to dust.
The rest of him crumbles beneath me, and I fall to the ground, landing on my feet.
But when the demon dust settles, sizzling on my clothes, the punk-ass kid is gone.
I blink and then claws are dragging down my back, ripping open my t-shirt, digging in my skin, and I’m screaming.
I spin around, putting my hands out to protect me, but then he’s behind me again, grabbing me by the hair and whipping me through the air until I go flying into the wall.
SMACK.
Pain blinds me, the world starts to fade and I slam into the cold concrete, unable to break my fall.
Fuck.
FUCK!
I can barely move.
My body is on fire.
I think I’ve broken every bone.
But I know he’s coming.
I have to get up.
I have to.
I push off up the ground, trying to get to my knees, but then I see a flash of yellow and the demon kicks me in the head and I go flying backward and everything is pain and stars and black.
It’s black.
I slump against the ground, the energy inside me fizzling.
I have to fight back.
I have to keep going.
I can’t die in this alley.
And if I die, Max dies, and I’m not letting that happen to him, no matter how he feels about the deal.
Get up, get up, get up!
The energy sparks just enough.
I push myself up, open my eyes.
Everything is blurry.
Dizzy.
There’s yellow.
Close.
Too close.
Demon eyes.
Snapping shark’s mouth.
“Do you have any last words?” he asks me.
I spit out blood and snarl, looking at him through a squinted eye.
“Yeah. Your hair sucks, dude.”
He flinches.
Anger in his black eyes.
Mouth opening wide, rows of teeth leading to Hell.
Then two hands appear on both sides of the demon’s head.
Big hands.
Capable hands.
They press against the demon’s head and, with a vicious twist, rip the head right off.
Dust fills my view.
And everything goes black.
Thirteen
“Nicotine, Valium, Vicodin, marijuana, ecstasy and alcohol.”
– Feel Good Hit of the Summer
“Ada.”
Max’s voice breaks into my dreams.
But they’re dreams of nothing.
Just me floating in nothingness.
Does this mean I died?
Am I dead?
“Ada.” His voice is stronger now, louder.
A hand at my forehead. Skin on skin.
I feel him now. I know it’s him. The energy in my body leaps to attention. Like what I feed him feeds me in return.
Lips now at my forehead.
His lips.
A forehead kiss?
Okay, I need to wake up for this.
I manage to open my eyes, though everything is a blurry mess for a moment. I only see a flash of red, like color of leaves in autumn, and suddenly I’m homesick and I don’t know why.
Then everything clears and I see Max peering at me, his face over mine, his hands pressed against my forehead, against my cheek. His eyes sparkling emerald, holding me in place.
You’re alive! I try to say but nothing comes out when my mouth moves. My tongue feels thick, dry as sandpaper.
“You’re alright,” he says to me, his drawl so familiar and soothing that I’m tempted to close my eyes and go back to sleep. “Was a little worried there.”
That feels like an understatement. I think back to what I remember. Touching his head, looking inside him, seeing the emptiness, feeling his anger. Then walking the streets of San Francisco looking for him, coming across the alley. Defeating the two, and then that punk-ass kid beating the shit out of me and…
“You,” I manage to say, staring at him. “You were there.”
Oh god. Please don’t tell me that was a training exercise.
“I almost didn’t make it,” he says. “And I’m sorry for that.”
I close my eyes, my head starting to pound. “No, I’m sorry. I mean it. I’m sorry about…I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. I didn’t think it would work like that, I…”
“Ada,” he says patiently. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine.” I gaze up at him. “I violated you. I violated our trust.”
He looks pained, breathing in through his nose. “That’s what it felt like. But I know…I know it wasn’t coming from a bad place. And I’m sorry I yelled at you.” He swallows. “Just promise me you won’t do that again.”
I try to shake my head but my brain aches. “I won’t. I promise you.”
He takes hold of my hand and squeezes it. “You did so well, sweetheart.”
“Was that a test? Were you testing me?” I’m trying not to feel indignant, but the feeling is there anyway.
“No. I had gone for a walk to clear my head. Didn’t get very far when I realize
