Alex imagined a shadowy female
figure tearing first Jacob then Colwyn apart while she stood by, unable to
move. She pictured it clearly, seeing
the blood flowing from the brothers’ gaping wounds and Colwyn looked at her
with accusing eyes that glazed over.
Alex shook herself out of the
terrible fantasy. She trembled all over
as she rooted through the pockets of the jeans she wore yesterday. She transferred the items she found from
those to the jeans she wore now: a small
gris-gris bag, a vial of holy water, and the rusted nail from Holly Hutchins'
coffin. She held the nail in her palm
for a moment and stared at it.
“What did you know?” she asked the
nail. “What was it that helped you
defeat Lilith so quickly?”
When the nail failed to gain the
power of speech and subsequently refused to offer her sage insight from the
long-dead Segreto, Alex stuffed the nail in her pocket and came to a
decision.
She’d go after Lilith without the
brothers. Reaction to so much demon
strength might hinder her.
“And let’s face it,” Alex said to
herself. “I don’t care to see them
killed, demonkind or not.”
She glanced at the clock in the den
before walking out. Almost one o’clock. They expected her in an hour. If she hurried and didn’t get pulled over for
speeding, she could get to the house on Henderson Avenue in forty minutes. By the time they realized she’d gone without
them, they’d be too late.
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