“Can you sense the demon?” he asks. I nod. Lucio stops dead in his tracks. Despite the flames growing ever higher around us, Lucio and I feel a cool breeze coming from down the road.
Lucio starts walking in the direction of the chill, and I follow, placing my feet in the dusty footprints his steps leave behind. Even though he’s not much taller than I am, his feet are bigger than mine, and I feel like a little kid every time I place one of my sneakers in the spot where his dust-covered boot was seconds before. Lucio’s wearing shorts, and instead of looking at where we’re going, I’m watching the muscles in his calves flex and release with each step. He certainly looks strong enough to confront a demon.
When he stops, I practically crash into him.
“In there,” Lucio whispers, nodding in the direction of a squat stucco building on our left. It’s so small that it can’t possibly have more than one room. An icy breeze blows its splintered wooden door open, bringing a wall of smoke along with it, despite the fact that it’s the only building in sight that isn’t actually on fire. The door bangs against the tiny building with a loud crash as goose bumps rise on my sweaty skin.
“Why did the demon choose this town?” I ask. “These people are completely helpless.”
“Exactly,” Lucio says. “The same way we gather strength from helping spirits move on, a demon gathers strength from destroying spirits.”
Despite the breeze coming from the darkness just a few steps away, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so hot. Somewhere inside a man screams in pain. I grab Lucio’s hand, and we head toward the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The Fire Demon
Only the corners of the one-room shack are dark. The curtains around the windows—little more than holes in the wall—have burnt down to ash, letting all the sunlight in.
One human is crouched in a corner of the otherwise empty house—where there might once have been a table and chairs, a bed, an icebox, now there are only piles of soot.
A second human stands in the center of the room, practically bathing in the sunlight. He doesn’t look up when we enter. He keeps his focus set on the man cowering in the corner, muttering in Spanish. I don’t have to be fluent in the language to understand what he’s saying: he’s begging for his life.
The man standing in the center of the room laughs at the other man’s pleas. He stands perfectly straight, nearly a foot taller than Lucio and me. He’s not wearing a shirt, and his flesh is covered in sweat and bright pink, like he sat in the sun too long. He’s barely human anymore: the demon’s possessing him, just like he did the woman the other night. It’s too late for her, but not for this man. Not if Lucio and I act quickly enough.
It’s easy to see why the demon chose this man. His muscles ripple beneath his skin. The combination of this human’s strength with the power of the demon would make it easy for this demon to overtake everyone else in this tiny village. It could go on a spree, gathering strength from each kill until it’s all but unstoppable.
The sound of a woman outside screaming in agony as her home burns to the ground fills the air. Possessed by the demon, the tall man smiles.
He drags the smaller man from the corner into the light in the center of the room. I can’t help it: I gasp. The victim’s skin is covered in burns. Who knows how long the demon has been toying with him? The skin on the smaller man sizzles beneath the demon’s grip, tight around his neck.
My gasp draws the demon’s attention. It fixes its gaze on me. The tall man’s eyes have turned bright orange, like the demon is burning him from the inside out. Without realizing it, I reach for Lucio’s hand and squeeze. “I’ve never exorcised a demon like this,” he whispers.
“Like this?” I echo.
“Already in possession of a human. About to go in for the kill.”
I can feel the demon’s breath: hot as though he’s about to breathe fire like some kind of dragon. But the room is so cold that when Lucio and I exhale, we can see our breath.
Every muscle in Lucio’s body is flexed. His eyes are closed and his teeth clenched. He’s still looking for Michael Weir, the algebra teacher from San Antonio.
But Michael Weir is gone. What was left of his spirit vanished as it went dark, morphing into the demon. Soon Michael Weir’s family and students won’t remember him; even his beloved niece won’t remember him. She’ll throw away every picture of him, wondering why she’s smiling in photos with a stranger.