P. Stormcrow

They had tried so hard to stay awake, but it was a futile attempt. In the end, they both fell asleep on the couch with books laying on their stomachs. 

Damien hovered over her, his face just mere inches away. When did he abandon his book and crawled over here and why the hell was he so damn hot? Of all the partners in the world she could have ended up with, it had to be him.

She pressed her hand on his chest with every intention of pushing him back, but she found herself unwilling to complete the motion. He didn’t come any closer but gave her a lazy, smug smile, as if he was well aware of the war waging in her head. They were partners. This was a bad idea. Hadn’t he mentioned before something about not fucking where you work?

And when had she started thinking about sleeping with Damien Jackson?

But still he remained where he was, just shy of kissing distance. He said nothing, but continued with that smirk of his, the one that goaded her to wipe from his face, one way or another. She understood if she wanted that kiss, she would have to get closer herself.

She should clobber him instead. Teach him a lesson. And yet…

Fuck it. She pushed herself up to close the mere inches between them. 

Finn snapped her eyes wide open and bolted up, half sitting as the warding bracelet growing uncomfortably warm. Someone—or something—was there, beyond her partner, snoring in soft breaths on the other side of the coach.

A dream. That was all that was. He didn’t have to know about it. No one did. Still, her cheeks burned at the memory of it. No, no. Focus. She extended one leg to kick Damien awake.

Unlike her, he woke up more gracefully, alert but without jerking upright. He stared at her with an unspoken question on his face, and she tapped her nose and cocked her head to one side.

He gave her a single nod. Yes. More magic.

She dug into her pocket for the little kaleidoscope, careful to not make any more big sudden movements. A quick check revealed that the red threads of power wrapped around him had intensified.

Show time.

In a move copied straight out of the movies, the lights blinked on and off. The apartment was too new for the windows to rattle, but the temperature dropped and Finn breathed out little puffs of air. 

None of which phased her after all she had been through in the last few months. And judging by Damien’s raised brow, he was rather unimpressed as well. He tilted his head to one side and mouthed “on three”.

“One.” 

She eased up ever so slowly and watched as Damien mirrored her movements.

“Two.”

She reached for the weapon she tucked on the left side of her waistband beneath her oversized shirt. Similar to a Glock but so very different in its purpose and looking so much cooler as a steampunk piece.

“Three,” they both yelled out and raced off the couch, standing back to back, new-and-improved miniature of the veil punchers cocked and ready. 

Nothing. The lighting leveled out and silence settled in the room.

“Here. Take these.”

“What—”

“Mini versions of the interdimensional rift projectile launcher. Weaker, but much safer. It won’t be enough to do away with whatever comes, but it would zap their powers.”

“If we’re only aiming to stun and weaken for capture and not to eliminate, wouldn’t the psychic pulse generators be better?”

“Oh, those things? They’re only good for apparitions. Who knows what you’re up against this time? Nah, these new minis are way more versatile. Trust me.”

There were more out there than ghosts and magicians that screwed up? Great.

They both held their position, too seasoned to drop their guard just yet. 

The bedroom door banged shut, startling both of them. She almost jumped at the sound and felt Damien tense up behind her. 

“I am so done with the theatrics,” she muttered under her breath. “Shouldn’t it not be able to even affect much with all the warding?”

“The strongest ones are by the bed. I needed to see what we are dealing with,” he whispered back.

At least Finn had the grace to swear at him in her head instead of out loud this time.

When nothing else happened after a moment, Damien jabbed her with his elbow and jerked his head towards the bedroom. 

She nodded in return and followed as he took the lead, weapon ready to provide cover. They both inched forward and once more, he checked with her as he reached for the handle. At her nod, he pushed the door open and pointed his gun into the room.

Finn stepped from behind to point her mini in the same direction. Nothing empty. 

A flicker of motion drew her attention towards the mirror. A shadow of a figure? Her skin crawled and the hairs on the back of her neck stood. With a cry, she spun around just in time to see her.

Long black hair. Pale as porcelain. Red eyes glowing with malevolence. It was the female lead, but Finn struggled to recall the name of the character. It didn’t matter though as it lept towards them. On instinct, she fired.

One shot made it shriek, an inhuman sound that Finn was certain she would never forget though she would be hard-pressed to find the right words to describe in it later

The second bullet stopped it in its tracks.

Third one pushed it backwards. 

Finn continued firing, giving no quarter. If she forced the thing towards the trap, they would be safe. Damien would be safe.

A little further.

It blinked away.

“What the hell?” She ceased fire but looked at the spot, puzzled. It should have been too weak to pull off any more stunts.

The lights flickered again. Once. Twice. A loud pop reverberates through the air like a sudden firecracker. Everything went out, leaving them in darkness.

“Shit,” Damien swore behind her.

Damn it, she didn’t even have her phone with her, worried that it would interfere with all the protection they had put in place. Stupid. With the blinds closed, little of the city light outside filtered in. A warm hand touched her arm. 

“It’s me.” Damien’s voice was a soothing reminder that she wasn’t alone. Ironic, since she was the one that insisted on staying to make sure he didn’t have to face this by himself.

Finn exhaled and followed his guidance until he stopped. Seconds later, he pressed a round cylinder into her hand. A maglite. Thank God.

She turned hers on. “What happened?”

“I think we limited its ability to interact with the physical world within the apartment, so it must have cut the power somewhere else.”

This was the second instance a paranormal creature proved it could manipulate electricity. The implications made her uneasy, but now was not the time to bring it up.

“Is it trying to spook us?”

“Maybe. We are for sure dealing with something more sophisticated than a mindless curse.”

Drawers rattled, their contents clanging louder and louder. Finn swung her flashlight towards the kitchen and a cabinet door flew open glassware falling out and shattering one by one. 

“I thought you said it couldn’t touch objects in here,” she cried out.

“I said limit! It must feed off the darkness,” Damien yelled in return.

And fear. She would never admit it, but she knew a part of her—the part that was taught to be wary of things that go bump in the night—was gibbering in terror. It didn’t matter if they had warded themselves up to the nines. This unease was a basic element of human nature’s survival instincts.

“Watch out.” Damien pulled her to him. Something whisked by her head, missing by mere inches.

More silverware came flying towards them. They ran and ducked, using the couch as their shield.

“How many forks and knives do you have?” 

“Really? That’s what you are taking away from this?” Damien ventured, popping his head up but hunched back down at the continued onslaught.

The trap was too far from them. They had not thought this through well enough. How did they get pinned down so fast?

“Okay. Idea. If I make a run for it to the bedroom, it has to cross the net—”

“Damien, it can blink to where you are!” Finn reiterated. Besides, in the darkness, they couldn’t even see where it was. Wait. Vision. What if… She dropped her gun on the floor beside her and reached for the other tool, holding her flashlight up with her other hand. “Rifts! There are spots of magic everywhere!”

“Then we target those. Tell me where to shoot!”

The first screech told her she was right as she directed his aim. The masses of energy were both some sort of portal and a source of its powers. Every shot she fired did something odd, eating away the angry red with a green tinge before fading. Later, she would have to ask Olivia how these babies worked, but for now, she didn’t care as long as they did their jobs.

Whatever the creature was going to throw next clattered to the floor. The light came back on. Though hesitant still, Finn rose with her own gun pointed at the thing. No longer a woman who resembled the female lead of the movie, its hairless red body stretched out and it lifted its head to glare at them. Little horns protruded from its forehead.

The devil? 

“This isn’t over.” The sibilant whisper brought goosebumps along Finn’s skin. It scrambled on all fours faster than either of them expected and dove into one of the last rifts. And it was gone.

“What the fuck was that?” Bewildered, she only stared at the carnage left behind.

“That would be a demon.”

Huh. Of course demons were real.