Two more barge forward. There’s only one way to know if they’ve been fueled with power from the Ley line. I throw an energy ball at one, burning the skin right off its shoulder.
“Finally, something is going my way,” I huff and draw my hand back, conjuring another string of magic. I twirl it around my fingers, and the blue energy starts to take on a reddish hue. I flick both hands forward and fling the strings of energy at the scrappers, wrapping around their throats.
“Burn,” I sneer, and the strings of energy ignite, burning bright blue. The fire laps around the scrappers, drowning out their screams. It’s over in only a few seconds, and there’s nothing but a pile of ash left in their wake.
I let my hands fall to my side, heavily exhaling, and mentally communicate with my familiar. Binx doesn’t sense any more scrappers in the nearby woods.
“They’re gone,” I tell the terrified nons. Ruby is staring at me with a similar look in her eyes, and it dawns on me that I used my angel powers again, somehow merging my energy into hellfire. It’s pretty fucking cool, if you ask me, though being able summon fire from the pits of Hell might not be a good thing.
Though I stand by the fact I’m nothing like him.
The girl stands, swaying on her feet. She’s drunk and in shock, which isn’t a good combination. Or maybe it is since being drunk is helping to dull her senses to what just happened.
“We need to get him to a hospital,” Ruby says again and motions for the other guy to help his injured friend to his feet. “You guys come with us,” she adds quickly, and I’m so glad we’re friends now. She’s getting them away from the scene of the crime, giving us time to clean things up before they start running their mouths, though it’s not like anyone would believe them.
“Those things,” the guy who didn’t get bitten starts.
“They won’t attack you again,” I assure him. “They’re gone.”
“That wasn’t what attacked us,” the girl says, voice shaking. “They…they came after.”
I look at Ruby, lips parting as my breath leaves in a huff. “Something else attacked you?”
“It was a werewolf,” the guy with the torn-up leg tells us.
“There’s no such thing as werewolves,” Ruby spits out, but we all know it’s a weak-ass argument right now after they watched me vanquish scrapper demons with magic right before their eyes.
“Maybe it was a coyote,” I try.
“It was a big fucking coyote, then,” Bite Wound says.
We make it just a few yards when red-and-blue flashing lights come racing down the road. Son of a fucking bitch.
“Finally,” the girl pants.
“You already called an ambulance?” Ruby asks.
“Yeah,” the girl says. I eye Ruby, who’s thinking the same. We need time to question them and then alter their memories. A police car pulls over right by my Jeep and its freshly dented hood. How the hell are we going to get ourselves out of this one?
The police officer gets out of the car and I recognize him as Officer Maxwell, the same cop who interviewed me after I rescued Danielle and several other people from having their organs harvested the day before my wedding. I’ve had my run-ins with the law before, always in situations I can’t fully explain. That’s what happens when you hunt demons, though.
Officer Maxwell’s eyes meet mine, and I know he knows who I am right away. Then he sees the bleeding kid and rushes over. Right as he’s about to ask what happened, the lights of the ambulance flash through the night. The ambulance parks next to the cop car, and the EMTs get out, get their gear, and hurry to the kid.
I step to the side, looking at my poor Jeep. One of the headlights is cracked, the hood is dented, and there’s a smear of blood from where the scrapper hit its head. Shit. I need to come up with a lie and come up with one fast.
“Ms. Martin?”
Shit.
“It’s Mrs. King, now,” I tell Officer Maxwell with a smile.
“Right. You did say you were getting married the last time I saw you.”
“The kid’s gonna be okay, right?” I look over at the ambulance. “We’ll just get out of here and let you do your job.”
“I’m going to need you to stay so I can take a statement.”
“Of course,” I sigh. Something rustles in the weeds on the side of the road. Officer Maxwell’s hand goes to his gun, and the teenage girl whimpers, clinging to her friend. Binx emerges from the tall grass and trots over, meowing and rubbing his head against my legs.
“Hi, baby,” I say, picking him up. I lean against the front of my Jeep, trying to surreptitiously wipe the blood off my Jeep.
“You seem familiar with that cop,” Ruby whispers, coming over.