Starfire (Grim Gate 2)

“I’m going. And I hate admitting this, but I, um, think you should stay with me in case I go crazy again.”

“You’re not going crazy.” He tips my head up and looks into my eyes. “You are not crazy,” he repeats slowly. “We’re going to figure this out once and for all and then we can go back to our boring lives of going out to dinner and drinking too much wine.”

My heart swells in my chest and I lean against Ethan. Together, we can get through anything. Even this. “I want that. Let’s go.”

“That’s her?” Harrison looks over my shoulder at a photo of Claire on my phone. “She looks so normal.”

“What were you expecting?” I ask, unbuckling my seat belt. “A stereotypical movie villain?”

“Kinda,” he admits. “And your plan is to just go talk to her?”

“Yeah.” We’re parked a block down from the salon and my pulse is starting to speed up. Nikolai and Harrison are staying in the car and Ethan and I are walking into the salon. I need a clarifying shampoo anyway, thanks to the hard water here in the Midwest. And Claire is going to be the one who rights me up. “Wish us luck I get answers.”

“Be careful,” Harrison says and then looks at Ethan. “Keep her safe.”

It’s my first instinct to say I can keep myself safe, but when I’m zoning out like I have been, I can’t guarantee much of anything. Though I do know I’m not scared. I’m pissed as fuck and Claire is going to fucking answer to me. I almost hurt my own brother. I’m not letting this go until it’s done.

I go into the salon ready for a fight not expecting to see what I do as soon as we walk inside. Claire is sitting at the front desk, and she looks terrible. Her hair is a mess, her skin is pale, and she has dark bags under her eyes. It’s more than being run down though, it’s like her energy has been drained.

“Hi, welcome to—” She snaps her mouth shut when she sees me and makes a move to get up and run.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Ethan flashes the gun he has hidden under his jacket. “We’re just here to talk.”

Certain Claire is going to attack in one way or another, I hold up my hand, fire sparking along my fingertips. “Enough with the games, Claire. It’s time you come clean.”

She looks at me, dark eyes wide, and then bursts into tears. Well, that was unexpected. “I’m sorry,” she sobs, and I give Ethan a what the fuck look. “I told him I was done but he won’t let me stop.”

“Hey,” Ethan says gently. “Calm down and, like I said, we can talk.”

Claire sniffles and grabs a tissue, mopping up her face. “Okay.” Her whole body is trembling, and I notice there are scratches on her arms when she throws away the tissue. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she starts and tears fall from her eyes. “He said if I did what he asked, he’d help me.”

“He?” I question. “Who is he?”

“I can’t say his name,” she rushes out and I realize this girl is terrified. “He’s always watching. From the mirrors.”

The mirrors. I’ve caught glimpses of something moving behind me in reflections. And I’ve felt like I was being watched.

“We can’t help you unless we know what we’re dealing with,” Ethan goes on, tone softening. “This guy you’re talking about…he’s a demon, isn’t he? We can fight him and he can’t make you do anything you don’t want to anymore.”

“You…you believe me?”

“I do. And we want to help. Helping you helps us. But we need you to be honest.”

The relief on Claire’s face makes her look almost like a new person. She takes in a shaky breath and leans forward. “He said he’d been following you ever since you let him out of the box,” she whispers. “He told me to take your hair that day you came in. So, I did.” She starts crying again. “He said he’d help me pay off my credit cards so I can move my nana into a better nursing home.”

“Demons make good promises,” Ethan tells her. “And never follow through.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I tell her. “He tricked you, and I know you’re not a bad person. Like my boyfriend said, I need a name.”

“I won’t say it.” She shakes her head back and forth. “If I say it, he’ll come.” Big, fat tears roll down her cheeks. “And he’ll hurt me.” Her eyes dart to her arm, looking at the scratches. She sucks back another sob and grabs a piece of paper, quickly sketching a symbol. “He keeps making me draw this. He wants me to draw it in your blood on a mirror.” She hands me the paper and then someone comes in behind us. She turns her head down, wiping her eyes.