"Your survival is essential."

Avery scoffed at that. Obviously, his survival was essential because he wanted to survive. He had no intention of dying, and had fought death for as long as he could remember. He'd taunted it, sure, with all the investigations and the going after ghosts and undertaking to prove the existence of the supernatural, possibly the afterlife. Now... death was chasing him, gaining on him, and he wasn't certain where to hide. Or even if he could hide.

Because that death was Jessamine. Demon-Jessamine. A dark angel of death if there ever was one. If he didn't get in her way, he'd live; but to save the world, he had to get in her way.

"I appreciate the protection," said Avery, scrubbing his face. "But the thing is, I'm kind of backed into a corner, aren't I? We'll have to confront her again. I will. We can't stop her from a distance, and I doubt she's going to come back to this house, not after finding me down there."

"No," said Ada, pensive. "She won't. Not if she can't figure out how to retrieve the demons that she left inside the realm. Next time, if she does come," she winced, "she'll come prepared."

"So we trap her, yeah?" Jamie was still leaning against the car, almost deflating into it. He fingered his beard and looked elsewhere; deep in his thoughts, trying to rationalize what was going on. "That's the only way to do this. Catch her off guard and distract her so she can't kill Avery. So he can... do his thing."

Ada studied Jamie, her mouth twitching side to side. "We could. Maybe opening the door again will draw her here in haste?"

"She'll sense that it's a trap," said Avery, shaking his head. "You're underestimating her, and that'll be the death of you. Of all of us. She's," he flinched, "they are ruthless, I'm telling you. They might have spared me this time, but they'll slaughter me if they see me again." He held on to his neck, his palms sending heat to the area Jessamine had had in her clutches. "And in any case, I don't think I'd be able to open that door anymore. The realm knows I'm against it now."

Though it whispered to me again after I got out, so who knows? But I don't want to open it again.

"Then I open the door," said Jamie, perking up, lifting off from the car. "If she sees me, she'll be thrown off, right? I'm not prophesied or important—"

"—which means she'll kill you," said Avery, sending a nasty glare towards Jamie. "I told you, I don't want you involved. And I don't want you anywhere near her, do you hear me? I'm useful, and still she wants to murder me. You? She won't even grant you a last breath." At the potential image of his best friend's insides carved out, he shuddered. "Plus, if that place sucks you in, you won't get out. I barely made it, and I still don't know how."

"The door... opened? And you were yanked out, is that correct?" Ada rolled her shoulders and turned towards the basement's holed entrance. "And you're sure it wasn't Jessamine?"

"Positive." He remembered her comments; her presence, so toxic and overwhelming. The sensation he'd had when being lugged out of the realm was something else altogether, something he couldn't seem to find the words to explain. "Whatever got me out was helped by something on the inside, I think. Someone screamed—it distracted the demons, stopped their nipping at me. I crawled away, and next thing, I face-planted onto the concrete downstairs, and she was... there. Scowling at the door. Angry that it was closed. Angry, period."

"I don't know what let you out. None of the demons did, you're positive?" Ada swerved back to him, but she wasn't looking at him; she looked out into the forest. "A spirit, perhaps, though there shouldn't be any lurking nearby to get into the basement. And I'm aware of no spirits capable of actually grabbing a door-knob and twisting it. Especially not that one."

"The demons were all too busy trying to possess me," said Avery, shivering at the recollection of their hot fingertips fluttering along his arms and legs. They weren't corporeal, and yet they'd touched him, tickled him. They'd pinched him, hard, and manifested such power that he'd felt unable to fight them for much longer. "A spirit, maybe. A strong as fuck spirit. But if that was what got me out, that spirit was harmed by Jessamine, I guarantee it. There was nothing else down there with us. And she may not have opened the door, but she did let me out, in a sense. She could have shoved me back in, could have gripped the door and held it open, I bet."

Ada nodded, and Jamie kept quiet, ruminating. Avery knew he was upset; he wanted to participate, he wanted to help, it was in his nature.

But I don't want him dying on my account. I don't want him dying at all.

"It puzzles me that she couldn't hold it open," said Ada, sounding distant, but perturbed.

"She won't make the mistake of letting me live again." Avery gestured towards the basement. "And if she finds me, or if I find her, I'm dead. I won't be able to repel her again, but..." He rubbed his tongue over his teeth. "I have to, don't I? To stop Jessamine's demons, I have to legitimately put myself in danger of death. There's no other way."

The silence that answered him told him everything he needed to know.

It was on him to put an end to what he'd started. He'd been unable to block Jessamine before, and it was his destiny to do so now. Yet the idea of being in her proximity again shattered through him like no fear ever had. Would he have to summon her, like Jamie and Ada had implied? Meet her somewhere? Track her down and ambush her?

She was smart, too smart. The demons inside her infused her with all their former human knowledge, making her incredibly powerful and intelligent. Any tricks Avery would plan, she'd anticipate.

Avery found a stump of broken furniture closer to the house wreckage and sat. He grabbed his head and lowered it between his knees, taking deep, harsh breaths, hoping to settle his thundering heart.

Having to witness the fury in her presence, the bloodlust in her eyes—Avery wasn't ready for it. It'd only been half an hour, maybe a smidgen longer, since he'd confronted her downstairs. Confronted wasn't really the right word for it, because all he'd done was back-talk to her and get choked out harder for it. There was no standing up to her, no defying her. Jessamine, the demons, were all-powerful and there was nothing he could do to counter that strength.

Unless I get her to make out with me while someone sneaks up and gives her the blow that paralyzes her, then I can finish her off...

He shrugged that idea off; to say it out loud was to admit he'd kissed Jessamine in her demonic form, and he still wasn't ready to own up to that.

How to confess to Jamie and Ada what he'd done, the real reason she'd rushed off?

She'd been surrounded by red, red in her gaze, red dripping from her mouth. This version of Jessamine was a monster, a creature of chaos who needed blood to survive, but also enjoyed spilling it for the heck of it. The demon's goals might have been somewhat noble, but their means were terrifying. How could Avery, a mere human man with no additional strength and no super-powers, stop someone as strong as a demon-possessed Jessamine?

The reminiscence of the other emotions she'd provoked in him hit him again. The way she'd titillated his senses in ways no other woman ever had; but she was evil. That lust she'd woken in him was pungent, petrifying, and he never wanted to experience it again. But if she showed up, or if he found her, it'd happen, wouldn't it? He wouldn't be able to avoid it, avoid her—and this time, Jamie and Ada would be around to witness it.

They'd be disgusted by him, disappointed. Him, their savior? Sucking face with a sexy woman filled with malicious entities that wanted to take over the world?

"What's wrong with you, Avery?" he imagined Jamie saying, snarling at him, backing away with his hands up. "How is this okay for you? You've done fucked-up things for sure, but this?"

"You're not worthy of a proper Afterlife," Ada would say, when reaping Avery's soul—since he was going to die, no matter what. She'd condemn him to Limbo forever, never giving him an opportunity to redeem himself.

He pulled his head out from between his legs, shaking violently. Had a chill rushed through the clearing? Or was he that deeply scarred, scared of Jessamine? He felt her as if she were still there, still breathing her toxicity over his face, still holding him up with her firm grip around his throat. He still smelled her; heavy, enticing, horrifying. Bold and bloody, a beauty with a dark twist.

She tormented him as if she were still standing before him; her heated hands wrapped around his neck. Glaring, burning through his retinas, seeking to shoot her negative energy through him. Seeking to rip his throat out and guzzle down all the blood he'd shed.

But then, at the same time, he experienced the weird, angsty sexual tension she'd instilled in him. The attraction was already there, since he'd been intrigued by Jessamine, still craving her after their night spent together. But the demons added a dash of terror and a pinch of despair that eerily, annoyingly turned him on.

That taste—spicy, intoxicating. A slick shot of Fireball, burning down his throat, warming up his core. That kiss reminded him of their first kiss; clumsy, drunken, fumbling for the right moves, desperate to capture the right rhythm. But the confusion hadn't lasted long, because seconds later, Jessamine had taken the lead. Her tongue was a tornado of desire as it took hold of Avery's, deciding which way to spin, how much to touch, how often to pull away and leave him wanting more.

Now that he thought of it, he'd been the one to take the lead that night. She followed his tempo with ease, and kissing her was like bliss. But down in the basement, it was something different. Not that he'd kissed her enough to know the difference, but there was a difference. Was that Jessamine? Or had the demons been responsible for that punch of a kiss? The way it was delivered, passionate and violent, felt more evil than benevolent. It felt obscure, overly confident. It felt sinister.

If they were disgusted by love, Avery wasn't sure the demons were also grossed out by lust.

Demons he'd read about—not real ones, now that he knew what he knew—were often portrayed as sexually frustrated, eager to devour, volatile creatures. They didn't love, but they lusted. They didn't ask, but they took. Could it be that real demons were like that, too?

Had they been the ones controlling that kiss, going along with real Jessamine's deepest urges?

I'll never know. It's not like they'll answer if I ever get a chance to ask.

"You're correct," said Ada, her flighty voice interrupting Avery's thoughts spiraling out of control. He shook his head, and peered up at her—she'd floated over to be in front of him, glancing down in concern. "We will have to confront her. You will. I'm sorry, Avery."

He'd already resigned to his fate, though he'd been hoping maybe, maybe Ada would come up with a solution. "There really is no other way, huh?" He hated to show her how he'd been hopeful, wary she'd stomp all over his positivity if he revealed it.

"There isn't." Ada's face scrunched into some emotion that Avery perceived as sympathy. "You're the only one who can without immediately dying. Will she want to kill you? Yes. She might give you more time, though. If Jamie were to try to oppose her, he'd get no chance, like you said. If I did... well, I'm honestly unclear on what she'd be able to do to me, and I'd rather not find out. My Guides, my spirits need me, whether we're rushing right into an apocalypse or not."

Of course, she'd want to protect her own hide, preserve her people. But for once, Avery wouldn't chide her on that, because he agreed.

Someone has to be around to face the music when it gets louder.

"It falls on you to speak with her. Negotiate, maybe. The how and when will have to be brainstormed," she tugged at her chin, "but it will be you. You're both part of the prophecy. You are the prophecy. There's no other way."

Avery touched the stubble beginning to grow over his jaw. "Yeah, I'd like to get the how and when soon, if possible. I need to know how long I have to process this. How long before I stare death in the eyes and lose?"

Ada angled downward, her face hovering inches away from his own. A strange sincerity joined the remaining sympathy there, and her eyes twinkled once, twice, before she closed them and lowered her chin. "I will do all I can to keep you alive; I meant that. Your survival is essential. Without you, she can't be stopped." She raised her chin and shimmied backwards, but remained crouched, on a similar level as Avery. "I'm tethered to you, to both of you. But you're also tethered to each other, and that bond is stronger than me, stronger than anything. Which means it'll be up to you to do what's right."

Gritting his teeth, Avery looked into his lap. "Do what's right." He sneered, thought not at Ada; at the situation he'd found himself in.

He should have left Amy's disappearance to the professionals. Shouldn't have blasted her video all over the news. Shouldn't have traveled to that coffee shop where he touched Jessamine's hand, effectively sealing their fates. He shouldn't have obeyed his hunches or followed his curiosity, and left well enough alone.

Some of my friends told me to assume Amy was dead. Or gone for a reason. Why did I push?

He was a stubborn asshole. Why would the world rely on him to save it? Who'd decided a prophecy would put him in charge of the world's fate?

Fuck.

"What is right, Ada?" He looked at her, his eyesight blurry. Was he growing weak, or crying? He wiped his eyes at once, not wanting to show his distress if he was indeed about to weep. "Shoving a woman into a demonic realm for the rest of her days? Killing her because of a destiny she had no say in, no control over? It's fucked up."

Ada sucked her lips in and bowed her head. "I dislike it as much as you do."

"You had the prophecy, and you didn't think to do something about it?" Avery seethed.

Ada's expression instantly changed; she'd been calm, sympathetic, but now a stream of irritation coursed over her face. "You think I can control visions? I'm not supposed to have them. No Guides are. You may see me as powerful, but trust me when I tell you I'm not. My purpose is to guide spirits, not to receive prophecies about the living. Prophecies that endanger the entire world as we know it. Prophecies that I'm not meant to prevent from coming to fruition."

He was wrong to accuse her, he knew. But he needed to point the finger at someone else but himself, for a change. If anything, for a quick breath of fresh air before he resumed being the culprit, the potential martyr.

"What if there's another way? A means to not kill her, and not let her kill me, either?" He massaged his knees as he got to his feet.

Ada arched an eyebrow. "There isn't."

"Are you sure?" He took one step closer to her. "Her soul is in there fighting, right? She's tougher than they thought, they can't quite control her. So what if she can keep fighting? Bargain, battle... find a way to expel them? What if we can help get those things out of her instead of killing her?" He watched Ada for a reaction, waiting for her to acknowledge his idea, to consider it. "Can I do that? I'd rather do that. Maybe if I can communicate with her directly, tell her to keep fighting, maybe she'll save me, save us both. Maybe—"

"—Avery, no," said Ada, shaking her head. She was solemn, her voice barely above a whisper, and her airs of sympathy returned. Her shoulders drooped forward as she clasped her hands near her navel. "I'm sorry, but that's not an option. It's not part of the prophecy, it's not plausible. You'll have to shove her into the realm or kill her; there's no alternative."

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