Starfire (Grim Gate 2)

I let out a breath of relief and smile. “I won’t even have to try. And now you know what it feels like to be stuck.”

Panic flashes through his black eyes. He thrust his hand forward; blue energy ripples along the wall, encasing him in a cylinder of magic. I cross another circle.

“Do you ever wonder why the other witches in your coven never sought you out?”

His question almost makes me stop dead in my tracks. I’d never even considered that, but they did know about me. “No. I don’t.”

“Interesting. Because they knew all about you.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m going to kill you once and for all and then it really won’t matter.”

“Not even your great-aunt could kill me and she was three times the witch you are.”

He’s trying to unnerve me, and dammit, he’s kind of doing a good job. Because I’m still so new at this and I expect—stop it, Anora. You’ve got this.

Without hesitation, I jump forward and step inside the last circle that separated me from the demon. I raise the dagger and drive it into his chest, or what I thought was his chest. Spinning at the last second, the blade slices into his shoulder. He recoils, crashing into the call of the barrier spell. I missed his heart, and the death won’t be instantaneous. Black blood drips from the wound and ripples of red crackle down his arm. If I hold the dagger in place long enough, he’ll burn and die.

With his free hand, Xozon touches my head. Searing pain radiates through and I cry out, stumbling back and hand slipping off of the dagger. I fall hard on my back, knocking the wind out of me. Smoke starts to rise from the mirror again, this time glowing dark blue. Xozon advances, throwing out a hand to test the barrier spell. They’re not hard to break if you know a little magic, and I have no clue if this demon has powers beyond creating chaos.

Hunter shadows past me, attacking Xozon. I hear the sound of bones crunching, and I scramble up to see the blue light glowing brighter and brighter.

“Hunter!” I call, wanting to warn my familiar against whatever Xozon has planned. A wave of dizziness crashes down on me and I stumble back, unable to get to my feet. The air around me goes heavy, pressing down on me. Shit! He’s going to make me get stuck again, but this time, I’ll be awake. I try to call for Hunter again but can’t.

And I can’t sense him anywhere either.

I dig my hands into the cold grass, breaking free of the hold. I roll over and get to my feet. Hunter lies on the ground, throat torn out and fur all blood. No!

“No…no…” I squeeze my eyes shut. “This isn’t real.”

Hunter isn’t actually a dog. If he did die, he’d take on his true form.

“This isn’t real.”

“Oh,” a voice comes from behind me. “It is.”

I whirl around and throw my hands up, summoning a ball of fire in my right hand. Hunter, where are you? Heart pounding, I look around. I can’t see Hunter or Ethan. The blue light emanating from the mirror starts to fade. I squeeze my eyes closed, count to three, and open them.

What happened wasn’t real. I’m still standing right outside the last circle, and the dagger is still in its sheath. Oh, shit. Ethan and Hunter are watching, and it looks like I’m still in control, still talking to Xozon. And if he’s cloaked me with that black mist again, Hunter won’t be able to sense anything I’m sending to him.

I turn to yell to Ethan, to tell him Xozon has a hold on me, and he needs to get inside. But as I move, my foot hits the salt line, breaking the circle. Xozon doesn’t take a second to test it. He lunges forward, grabbing my shoulders. A horrible high pitched screech rings in my ears and I can feel myself slipping away.

A gunshot echoes across the field, and Xozon grunts and stumbles back. “This is your are reality,” he whispers and a second shot rings out. “What you know is gone. You are mine now. And I say kill them all.” He lets me go and Ethan fires a third shot, hitting Xozon in the back. The demon dives forward, cloak swishing behind him. And then he disappears.

“Anora!” Ethan calls and I push myself up. “Are you all right?”

I stare blankly in his direction.

“You’re bleeding,” he says and touches my arm.

“No, it’s not real,” I answer, my voice a hallow echo of what it usually is. I don’t recognize myself. I don’t have a self anymore. I feel nothing.

“Yes, it is!”

“Stop. It’s not real, see?” I reach down and stuck my fingers inside the gash. Warm, slippery liquid covers my hands. Somewhere in the back of my mind—the very very back—I hear a voice screaming at me to wake up. “See, no blood.” I hold up my fingers for Ethan to see.