Page 52 of The Blood Witch
So this is happening. Where’s a SheWee when you need one?
I hold my breath and pretend my pee isn’t just as loud as Elon’s. All in all, it’s not as mortifying as I thought it would be. I can kind of sit on the rim of the bucket so my quads aren’t dying halfway through. Truth be told, I’ve had worse porta potty incidents than this, I tell myself as the drip drying commences. I’m not ready to lose my underwear just yet, in part because maybe I can turn it into some kind of a weapon, use the elastic as a garrote or something. I ponder the possibilities while studying the lines of mortar and stone that work together to create the wall in front of me. I finish up, pull up my undies and shorts and then speed walk away from the bucket as though I just lifted its wallet and need to get out of dodge.
Wind whips through the church just then, and I swear I expect to see Jamie pop up in the doorway from the ominous sensation that’s riding the chilly breeze. I look over at the bright open entrance, but no one is there. Hope that somehow she’s off leaning against a tree, succumbing to internal injuries, bubbles up inside of me, but I don’t let reality run off with the fantasy, no matter how much I wish it were true.
I reach inside myself and observe the tether.
He’s coming.
He’ll find us.
“Any idea what time it is?” I ask, my stare fixed on the doors that represent freedom but also death, depending on who walks through them.
Elon shakes his head no and doesn’t bother offering a guesstimation beyond that. He stares at the entryway too, grass and trees just visible beyond the open doors. It’s easy to see we’re both anxious and apprehensive about what we know is coming. I try not to think about it too hard, but I can’t help but wonder which of us she’ll come for first.
I’m pretty sure after what happened last night that it’ll be me. She’ll want to punish me for attacking her so she can reestablish dominance. I suspect she’ll save Elon for last, sticking to thetorture planshe’s been working with since before I showed up. Or at least I’m hoping this is how it’s going to go down. There’s a tiny voice of panic in my head that’s terrified it might be Elon first. The thought makes me sick. But I’ve been working out ways in my mind to keep that worst case scenario from happening.
I’ve been thinking through all the possibilities since Jamie left the last time. There’s thewild cardhope that somehow whatever brought Elon and Rogan back from the dead when their uncle killed them could happen again. But what if it doesn’t? There’s no guarantee, which means it’s better to be safe and sort through all outcomes than be sorry.
Swatting away the worry that’s trying to claim my mind, I feed magic into Rogan’s and my tether. I pull the power back less than a minute later, and I wait for Rogan’s silent reassurance. I clutch onto the relief that swells in my chest when I feel him reach back out to me by mimicking what I just did.
He’s coming.
He’ll make it here before the moon rises and seals our fate.
He’ll do it. He has to.
I pull in a deep breath and slowly let it go. Time to get back to it, no point wasting any more of the day.
“Okay, Elon,” I chirp, followed by alet’s do thisclap. “It’s going to hurt like a bitch, but we need to see if we can weaken these markings or possibly overload them. Which means we both need to be using magic and trying to find a way past whatever it is they do to stop us,” I announce, stepping up to the front line of symbols that have me trapped.
Elon studies the open church doors for a moment longer and then looks over at me. He appears to debate for a second, and then he offers me a quick nod before pulling his hands from his pockets and shaking out his arms in preparation. “Okay, tell me what you want me to do.”
* * *
Ipace the lines of symbols that I now want to rip from the ground with my bear hands. Technically, I did try that, but the fuckers aren’t going anywhere, no matter howHulk SmashI tried to get with them. I stalk up one line, past another, and down the third, until I meet the wall and turn to retrace my steps. Like a caged animal, I stride up and down, frustration filling each footfall as I study the marks and try to make sense of them.
Elon and I have been fighting them for hours, looking for weaknesses, trying to understand how they work so we can figure out how to counteract them. But for all our time and effort, they’re still dropping us to our knees in pain over and over again, with nothing else gained. I growl, fed up with our lack of progress and pissed that I can’t figure out how to best some bullshit demon stones.
Elon is lying on the floor, still recovering from our last go, and I know he’s close to his limit of how much more he can take. As much as I judged his previous resignation, he hasn’t complained once or asked me to stop. Every time I come up with a new option to try, he’s there, on the floor, screaming right along with me. But it can’t last forever. And now I’m worried if I push much harder, he won’t have anything to fight with tonight when he’ll really need to.
I rake my fingers through my hair, practically feeling the seconds tick away. Minutes slip through my hands until they become hours that leave rope burns in my palms from how quickly they’re pulled from my grasp. The light around us is already changing, and I feel in my bones that time is almost out.
We’ve been working all day, and silently I’ve been hoping that any minute now, Rogan and the Order will come walking through the open doors, and all of this will be over. They’ll set a trap for Jamie, let Elon and I finish her in the end, and we’ll all go home safe and sound. But as the arc of the sun dips closer and closer toward the horizon, I’m accepting that none of this is going to happen. It’s just Elon and me against the psycho and her demon.
I now fully comprehend how torturous it is to tip an hourglass on its end and force it to count down. Each attempt to break through these demon bonds, every scream rent from our lungs either from pain or frustration, is like a speck of sand falling away and inevitably sealing our doom. Every time Elon and I fail to make any progress is like a dagger to the gut, because I gave us hope, and then it all slipped away.
I was certain we could find something that would help us, but the moon is threatening to rise, and we’re no better off than when we first started. Jamie is going to walk through that door any moment, she’s going to call her demon, steal more powers, and then she’ll be back to finish us off one by one.
Impatiently I check the tether again. I watch it as though it’s a phone and I’m willing the important phone call I’m expecting to come through right now.
Nothing happens.
Temptation to check on Rogan again tickles the back of my mind, but all I can tell from our tethered exchanges is that he can feel me and I can feel him. Sadly, there’s nothing more to glean from those moments other than we’re there for each other in one way, but it’s not the way Elon and I need right now. I try to convince myself that the connection is feeling stronger and that must be because he’s getting closer, but it’s just delusional hope giving me something to cling to so I don’t have to stare at my empty hands and feel the weight of what all of it means.
I stretch my neck and try to shake off the direction of my thoughts. Yes, it sucks that there’s no sign of help. But I’m plucky, dammit, and nothing is impossible.
There’s hope.
