“Why?” I asked, too shocked to move.
“I had no choice,” she said almost sadly.
A groan from the cell beside the one I'd been summoned into distracted me. I'd assumed it was empty, and had been too panicked to think of checking it out. My grandmother's green eyes darted over to the cell, then back to my face. It was only the third time I'd laid eyes upon her, and I was once again startled to realize how much she looked like me, or how much, I guess, I looked like her.
“Xoe?” someone mumbled from the cell, then more frantically, “Xoe! Get out of here now!”
“Dad?” I asked weakly. I wanted to rush over to the cell, but I wasn't about to turn my back on grandmother dearest.
I watched out of the corner of my eye as his shape stumbled into view to lean against the bars of his cell. The small amount of light in the crypt hit his face. He looked ghostly pale and weak, even though he had only been missing for a day.
“Run,” he pleaded. “She's going to hurt you. Run!”The final shout seemed to take all of the strength out of him, and he crumpled back to the ground.
I began to pant as rage washed up in me once again. I looked up into my grandmother's young, smiling face and knew in that moment that if I had my magic I would have tried to kill her. Opting for the second best option, I swung my fist and connected with her jaw, sending her rocking backwards.
I went after her, intent on at least incapacitating her, but she poofed out of my grasp in a whoosh of green smoke. Apparently whatever kept me from using magic wasn't set up to affect her. Her form re-solidified inside my dad's cell, except now she was holding a long, thin sword in her right hand. I'd seen the sword before, when she'd decapitated Bartimus to save my life.
She pointed the sword down at my dad's prostrate form as she held up her other hand to touch her jaw where I'd hit her. “Back in your cell now, Alexondra, or you will be halfway to becoming an orphan.”
“He's your son,” I said shakily, not believing that she would actually hurt him.
“Don't do it, Xoe,” my dad pleaded weakly. “Run.”
“We can all walk out of here alive, Alexondra,” my grandmother interrupted.
“She's lying,” my dad said, but was cut off as my grandmother prodded him with her blade.
“Tell me the truth,” I said calmly, “and I will get back in my cell.”
My grandmother sighed, then poofed back out to stand beside me. “I've been alive a very long time,” she explained, as if it explained anything, “and I've made many enemies.”
“You're making another one right now,” I commented, unable to help myself.
She looked at me sharply, then continued. “They would have killed me already, except I've grown quite adept at hiding,” she went on. “I'm tired of hiding, but I had no way out, you see?”
Realizing that she expected me to answer, I shook my head. “No, I don't see.”
My grandmother sighed and flipped her long, blonde hair over the shoulder of her green trench coat. “When I first discovered that your powers were so close to mine,” she said as she looked down at me, “I didn't think much of it. As I've told you before, demons have no need for family.”
“Then why did you save me from Bart?” I asked numbly.
My grandmother's face was expressionless as she said, “Because I knew you could be useful, if only I could figure out how to use you. Then I thought of witches, and how useful they can be in large numbers.”
She took a few steps closer to me. I tried to step away, but my back ended up against the stone wall opposite my dad's cell.
“Your powers are so similar to mine,” she said distantly as she reached her left hand toward my face, “and you look so much like me. It wouldn't be much of a change at all.”
“What are you talking about? I asked as I began to panic again. Having nowhere else to go, I backed away toward the cell I'd arrived in.
She sighed again. “You really are quite daft, aren't you? I want the witches to switch us. Normally they wouldn't be capable of such of feat on their own, but with my help it will work.”
“Switch us?” I asked, still not understanding what she was getting at.
She marched toward me like an angry cat, swishing her hips from side to side with her long blade pointed at the ground. “I will be you, and you will be me. I'll have a nice, fresh start, and you can deal with my numerous pursuers.”
I began to shake as my back hit another wall. “You have no intention of letting my father go,” I accused. “He would never let you steal my life.”
The look on her face let me know that she was right. After the witches switched us, she would kill my dad, and she would kill me. Heck, she would probably even kill the witches to avoid any loose ends.
She had almost reached me when I lunged at her. Getting back in my cell would do no good. My father would end up dead, and I probably wouldn't last much longer than him.
She poofed out of reach again, and back into my father's cell, only this time she stabbed her blade downward into his chest. I screamed, and she poofed back out beside me. I stared at my dad's still form, but it was too dark for me to see whether or not he was still breathing.
“Get. Back. In. Your. Cell,” she said, emphasizing each word to sound like an angry parent, but she wasn't like any parent I'd ever known. She'd just stabbed her own son.
I felt like I might faint, but knew if I did it would be all over. I wouldn't be able to help my dad if I was unconscious. I swallowed the lump in my throat. Please don't let it be too late to help him.
Movement caught my eye and I looked down to see the ring on my finger flashing wildly with red light. My grandmother looked down at the ring, her ring, in surprise as it cast glowing red shapes across her pale face. I felt just as surprised as the feel of magic trickled down through my finger into my body. My magic might have been blocked, but the ring still had its own little store. Ignoring the bloody sword that she half-pointed toward me, I grabbed her right arm.
Energy pulsed up through my palm as she tried to poof away again, but something about my grip on her arm was preventing her. She looked at me slightly stunned, then dropped her sword and grabbed my wrist with her left arm. Something pulsed back and forth between us as I felt my magic somehow return to me. My grandmother's lips parted in surprise as we were lifted upwards into a portal. I tried to let go, but she had a firm grip on me.
“What are you doing!” she shouted over the sound of rushing wind.
“I'm not doing anything!” I shouted back.
The next thing I knew, we were crashing down into another place that I recognized. The night sky of the dream-world loomed over our heads, pushing down on us with invisible hands.
My grandmother pulled away from me and wiped her palms on her coat in irritation. “Bringing us to the dream-world won't help you escape, Alexondra. I know this world like the back of my hand.”
I began to cry as I thought about my dad. “You stabbed him!” I screamed. “You stabbed your own son!”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “You gave me no choice.”
“That's a lie!” I screamed back.
“I loved him in my own way!” she shouted back at me, “but I love me more.”
I shook my head. “You aren't capable of loving anything.”
She marched toward me again as rage coated her face. “Why,” she demanded, “did you bring me here?”
“I didn't!” I cried.
Her face turned thoughtful as her anger dripped away. She began pacing while she thought about what I said. How could she be so cold about what she'd just done?
“It must have been our magics reacting with each other,” she speculated, “how strange.”
I fell to my knees as the full weight of what had transpired hit me.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked as tears covered my face.
My grandmother looked down on me like I was nothing more than a bothersome insect. “I saw an opportunity, and I took it. Did you know
that those rogue wolves were planning on killing you? They probably would have succeeded too. Really, I'm doing you a favor by taking over your life. You were doing a horrible job of running it.”
I took a deep, shaky breathe, but felt unable to get to my feet. “What do the rogue wolves have to do with any of this?” I rasped.
“Nothing,” she snapped. “I caught word that the little group of witches in your town were trying to summon demons. In I popped, letting them think that they had summoned me. They wanted information on how to kill you, and thought that another demon was the best source. I took over from there.”
“What about the other demon, the one who killed Claire and Sasha?” I asked. I considered creating a portal back to my dad, but she would only follow me. I had to finish this here. If only I didn't feel so weak.
She laughed. “That pesky little thing? I had to draw you out somehow. Couldn't have you moping in the underground forever.”
“Why?” I said, confused. “Why bring me up at all when you could just use Sam to put me where you wanted me, just like you did my dad.”
“I led your father to Sam with a tidbit of information,” she explained, “but I had little chance of leading you. Although, the fact that you went to him was convenient. After your first visit, I knew you would likely go back, and things became simple from there.”
It occurred to me that maybe my grandmother was a little bit afraid of me. Otherwise she would have just snatched me as soon as she thought of her plan. I wasn't sure what she saw that I didn't, because at that moment, my grandmother was the scariest thing I'd ever seen.
She came to crouch in front of me, and I almost thought that she would show sympathy, but suddenly her hand was around my neck and she was lifting me to my feet. She kept on lifting until my toes barely touched the ground.
“We're going back to the witches now,” she explained. “I must finish what I started.”
I tried to summon my magic to get her away from me, but nothing was happening. I couldn't burn her because of her demon aura, and she was too close for me to throw a fireball at her.
My vision began to go black, just as something came barreling into my grandmother's side. I fell out of her grasp and to the ground. At first I thought one of the many monster-like denizens of the dream-world had struck her, but then I saw the shining white skin and translucent hair.
The sparkly white figure rose up from where it had landed with my grandmother's still form several paces away.
“D-Dorrie?” I stammered, not believing my eyes.
Dorrie whipped her head around to face me with tears in her luminescent blue eyes, then looked back down at my grandmother. “I'm so sorry Pop Tart! I-I thought she was going to hurt you.”
I stumbled to my feet and went to where Dorrie stood. I looked down at my grandmother's still form, her neck twisted at an awkward angle to the side. It seemed almost anticlimactic.
“I thought you were dead,” I whispered numbly.
Dorrie shook her head. “Your granny came to visit and she went after me. I hid in the bathroom, and then everything went black. When I woke up, I was here.”
I turned away from my grandmother's corpse, no longer able to look at it. I felt sort of like I was floating. “I saw your body,” I explained. “You were shattered.”
Dorrie smiled softly despite her tears. “I'm a construct of demon magic, made for a purpose. When I was hurt, I was remade where I was supposed to be, only I don't have a cab anymore. I've been waiting here ever since.”
“I need to go,” I said softly. Before I could form a portal, something knocked into me from behind. I stumbled forward, then turned back to my grandmother's corpse, fearing that she wasn't dead after all. Yet there she lay, just as still as before.
I shook my head, it had probably been one of the shadowy dream-world shapes that you could only ever really see out of the corner of your eyes. I thought of the crypt where I'd left my dad, hoping I wasn't too late. I couldn't be too late. Before I could could escape, Dorrie grabbed my hand. I looked down at our joined hands to see the ring flashing wildly again. To my surprise, instead of the disorienting feel of traveling through a portal, Dorrie and I both dissipated in a whoosh of red smoke. Somehow I'd finally figured out the same trick that both my dad and grandmother used to travel.
The same red smoke led the way as we reappeared back underneath the cemetery. The crypt was silent as we reached it, and my dad was very, very still. Dorrie used her inhuman strength to pry apart the bars of his cell effortlessly, and I rushed inside. I crouched down and turned my dad's still form over so I could see his face. Lifeless, green eyes stared back at me.
I felt like my insides were being torn apart as I looked at my dad's dead gaze. I collapsed on top of him, and felt his cooling blood soak into my shirt. It was my fault. It was up to me to save him and I'd been tricked by Sam like an idiot.
Dorrie's rough hands pulled me away from my dad's body. She hugged me to her chest as we both cried. Sam had done this. I couldn't just sit there and feel this horrible, tearing feeling inside me. Sam had to pay.
I pulled away from Dorrie, and knew that my face looked as numb as I suddenly felt. I peered past Dorrie as a young girl came into view. She had short, red hair, and appeared to be around 13 or 14.
“You must be Rose,” I said softly. Tears continued to stream down my face, but I'd blocked out the pain of what had happened. I couldn't feel it. Not yet.
“P-please,” Rose stammered. “The other witches left me here. I don't blame you for hurting Sasha. She should have never summoned demons.”
I laughed, then abruptly cut myself short. Pretty sure that I was going into shock, I asked, “They told you that I was the one who killed Sasha?”
Rose cringed at the word killed. “Please, she said again. You already killed my sister. My parents can't lose another daughter.”
“I didn't kill your sister,” I snapped. After all they'd done to me, those witches had some nerve trying to pin murders on me just to cover their own tails. They deserved whatever they got.
“I wasn't the demon who killed your sister, or Sasha,” I said with an almost cruel smile. “In fact, I don't know which demon did it, and as of this moment, I don't care. The only advice I can give to you and your parents is to run, and keep running, because I'm not going to help you. Part of me hopes that you will escape, but I hope all of the others are torn to shreds.”
Rose started crying as she collapsed to her knees. I knew I should care more about her fate, but I just couldn't. I couldn't care anymore about anything.
Rose's eyes moved to take in the entire scene. “Was that your dad?” she asked weakly.
I froze. I couldn't look down at him again . . . but I had to. There was no way I was leaving his body down in that crypt. I stood and took a few steps back, gesturing for Dorrie to do the same.
I closed my eyes and with a single thought, my dad's body went up in flames. Normally I could only throw fire at a demon. I couldn't burn them or set fire to them directly because their demon aura protected them. It was the final test. As I looked down at the burning form, I knew that he really was gone.
I glanced over to see that Rose had pushed her back against the wall, but hadn't tried to run. It occurred to me that she was too panicked to try. She was just a kid. I hadn't felt like a kid in a very long time. I stared at her until her eyes met mine.
“Tell your parents to call me if they figure out where the demon went to,” I ordered.
Rose's tear-stained face scrunched up in confusion. “I thought you said you weren't going to help us.”
I shook my head, almost regretting offering at all . . . but she was just a kid. Not every teenager deserved to have a life as screwed up as mine. “I'll help you, but that's it. The demon can kill all of the others.”
Rose just stared at me, too shocked to say anything else. I turned away from her frightened eyes and held out a hand to Dorrie. I suddenly knew exactly how to get to where I needed to go with
out a portal, and couldn't believe that I hadn't figured it out until then. We dissipated once more in a puff of red smoke.
As soon as my feet were solidly on the ground, I pulled away from Dorrie. Chase, Jason, and Sam all sat together on the floor like nothing was wrong. Blinded by rage like I had never felt before, I charged toward Sam and slammed into him, sending us both to the ground. If I had thought of it, I would have thrown a fireball at him, but I wasn't thinking. All of the numbness I'd felt in the crypt was gone. I straddled him and began throttling his face, oblivious to the pain as my knuckles split open from the repeated impact.
Arms lifted me away and I screamed. The arms on one side dropped me only to be replaced by Dorrie's rough hands. Suddenly I broke down and went limp. I ended up on the ground with Chase's arms around me to keep me still as Jason came to crouch in front of me. His crouch was awkward, drawing me to the fact that the skin of his palms where he'd gripped me was blackened and peeling. I'd nearly burned his hands off when he tried to pull me away from Sam. Chase was only saved because of his demon blood.
Dorrie smiled at Chase, and I realized that he had probably been staring at her in shock that she was alive, but I couldn't see his face with his arms wrapped around me, so I didn't know for sure.
“What happened Xoe?” Jason asked as he looked at me with wide eyes, but I couldn't speak to answer him.
I turned my blank stare back to Dorrie.
“Her father,” Dorrie began, but her voice cracked.
“My father is dead,” I said, feeling numb once again.
Chase's arms went very still as Jason looked at me in shock.
“I didn't know she wanted to hurt you,” Sam said from somewhere out of my sight, referring to my grandmother. “I would have never helped had I known. I swear it.”
“What?” Chase asked. I felt his arms pull away as he stood to look at his brother. “Sam, what did you do?”
“The spirits only told me what happened after it was already occurring,” Sam said in a pleading tone.
I turned as Chase took a menacing step toward his brother. Sam held up his hands in a defensive gesture as his nose steadily dripped blood from my throttling.
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