“You know what, guys? I really don’t care,” I whispered through clenched teeth. Jumping off the deck, I grabbed for Scarface. He jumped out of reach of my hand—but not my power.
The tingling in my fingers increased to an uncomfortable level. Lifting my hand, Scarface rose off the ground. I squeezed. His eyes widened, and he gasped for breath. I waved my hand toward me and Scarface followed, floating in the air. I pulled him eye to eye with me. I could feel the heat radiating off his body and smell the rot and singed flesh. With every pant, I got a whiff of his halitosis.
“I’m tired. I’m cranky. I’m downright bitchy. So go to hell, and make sure you tell Azazel to screw himself.”
Pulling back my arm, I swung. I watched the red body fly across the backyard until it disappeared with a pop. One by one, little pops sounded until there was nothing left but seven little puffs of smoke and the fading smell of sulfur.
Chay looked at me. His mouth was open and his eyebrows were raised. “Um, that was interesting. When did you learn that trick?”
I shrugged and shook my head, rubbing my chest with the palm of my hand. “I don’t know. It just… it just came to me.”
“Well, now things are going to get really interesting,” Chay said.
One week, three days until my birthday.
The dream was back. Well, the nightmare. I’d been having it since the night of the football game. The night I first saw the demon. The night I first saw the glowing embers of Hell, Azazel’s home.
I crawled out of bed and walked into my bathroom. Sweat snaked down my back, and an icy, cold lump formed in the pit of my stomach, weighing me down.
I looked at my reflection in the mirror. Dark circles framed my green eyes, either dull from not enough sleep or too much crying. Maybe both. Who the hell knew anymore? “Pull it together, Milayna,” I whispered.
I heard my cell phone vibrate, the metal banging against the nightstand. Running into the other room, I grabbed it, flipped it open, and clicked the button to read the message without looking to see who it was from.
Muriel: What are you doing up?
Me: Hey. Just another nightmare. What about you?
Muriel: I saw your light. Why? Were you expecting someone else? Hmm? Maybe Mr. Hottie?
Me: LOL! Nah.
Muriel: Gonna be able to go back to sleep?
Me: I don’t know. Probably not.
Muriel: Wanna talk about it?
Me: Not really.
Muriel: Well, if you do, text me.
Me: I will. G’night.
Muriel: Night.
Two seconds later, my phone rang. I cringed and snatched it up, pressing talk before my parents heard.
“Hello?”
“Hey,” a voice smooth as the most decadent chocolate said in my ear. “Another nightmare?”
“Yeah.” I lay back in my pillows and closed my eyes, pretending he was next to me, not houses away.
“You wanna talk about it?” Chay asked.
“You know, I really don’t… Wait, yes I do.” I needed to tell someone. I couldn’t carry around what I learned in my dream alone. And I could trust Chay.
He chuckled on the other end of the line, and I smiled at the sound. “Is that a yes or a no, Milayna?”
“It’s a yes under one condition.”
“And what’s that?”
“This is you and me talking. It isn’t for anyone else’s ears. Okay?”
“Okay,” he said slowly. “But if this is something that affects the group—”
I sighed. “Never mind.” I couldn’t believe that my boyfriend put the group before us. I needed to talk to him, just him. But he couldn’t keep it between us. He had to involve the others. Pssh, whatever.
“Fine. It’s just you and me.”
“I think someone else is going to betray the group,” I blurted. “I keep having this dream, and it’s someone in the group making a deal with Azazel, but it’s different from when the others turned. They’re talking about what a big surprise it’ll be and that no one will see it coming, things like that. I’m sure someone is going to betray us.”
“Who?”
“Well, if I knew, it wouldn’t be a surprise betrayal.” I rolled my eyes. “Anyway, I can’t see them in the dream.”
“Is it a male or female voice?”
“I don’t know.” I sighed, frustrated. “It’s distorted. Like it’s synthesized.”
“You’re right. We can’t tell the group. We can’t let on that we know.”
My blood ran cold. It felt like someone had just run an ice cube up my spine.
***
I drove myself to school the next morning, Chay’s warning still ringing in my ears. I could see his yellow car behind me, and Muriel’s car was in front. I was sandwiched between the two of them. Protecting me, they’d said. Except one might work for the enemy. How was I supposed to feel protected?
As soon as we’d parked, Chay was at my car door. He reached out and lifted the strap of my book bag off my shoulder.
Schooling my features to show no emotion and keeping my voice neutral, I said, “Thanks, but I’ve got it,” and held the strap in place. I stepped back and rolled my shoulder out of his reach. A knot formed in my chest when I looked at him.
Chay gave me an odd look and took a step back. “It isn’t me.”