Despite the house's shaking, the walls threatening to cave in on him, Avery forced himself to his feet. "I have to stop this. This is... it's my doing, and I can't let her get away with this." He gulped down the fear that had lodged in his throat, blocking his breathing. He metaphorically rolled up his sleeves, and glared down at the area where he imagined the red door would be. "This is my destiny."

I've gotta go down there and stop her.

Jamie grabbed his arm, but it was too late—Avery launched down the rest of the stairs, coming close to collapsing, and immediately came face to face with her.

Her.

The one he'd been having waking nightmares about, the one he'd harbored a disgusting lust for. The one who said she'd kill him if she saw him again. She was there, in front of the door, bracing to do her dirty deed.

"Jessamine." Avery choked on her name, fighting the urge to look at the reddening aura around her. "Stop!"

The dark being had her arm stretched out, her palm inches from cupping around the door-knob. She paused, whipped her neck in his direction, and issued a slow, stealthy smile.

It was her, the demon-Jessamine, yet something was worse about her than before. She was darker, harsher-smelling, her presence heavier and more powerful. As if she'd amplified her evil energy, infused herself with more blood. Grown more destructive and dangerous than ever.

Her smile changed to a sneer. "I thought I smelled something foul on my way down." She yanked her arm back to her side and cocked her head, studying Avery—more like analyzing every line on his face, every nervous twitch of his cheeks. "What are you doing here? Bold, boy. Bold. Didn't we warn you we'd kill you if we saw you again?"

Avery's legs shook, but he wasn't sure if it was the house's shaking that caused the movement, or his own fear unraveling from his gut. He could barely stand, and having landed right in the middle of the basement, he had nothing to hold on to to keep him upright.

Whispers whirled into his brain, making him wince in pain. He couldn't understand what they were saying, but they taunted, teased, they titillated him. He sensed their energy swirling over from the door, and he glanced at it as if to see behind it.

"Oh, you hear them, do you?" Demon-Jessamine's sadistic timbre resonated in his mind alongside the whispers, worsening his suffering. "Of course you do. Some of them still think you're their savior, poor things. They still hope to reach out to you and beg for your help. Even across state lines, they can detect you. Every door leads to a different part of our realm, but still... they know. They know you're here."

Avery gritted his teeth and took hold of his head in his hands. "Those are the demons calling me? Not... not the door?"

Jessamine snickered. "The door is stupid, though it can identify and communicate with wounded souls, sure. But it's only an enchanted barrier. It doesn't sense your true feelings of reluctance, Avery. It doesn't perceive your inability to help it. And it gives false information to my family on the other side, who await a savior, desperate to get out." She perked up, and pearls of red dotted over her face and arms and black clothing. As if a red-hued disco ball were swiveling about the basement, showcasing her in all her glory. "But I'm here, I'm their savior. You..." she narrowed her gaze, "you don't need to be here. No, you don't need to be alive."

She raised her arm, her index finger extending in Avery's direction. He covered his face with his arms, crouched, held his breath, awaiting the sound of his blood squelching over the floor before he lost consciousness forever. He braced for the impact of her power, for how it'd stop his heart, tear into his flesh, release his bowels all over the concrete floor.

But his knees didn't fully buckle under the weight of his fear. Something woke in him, instead of dying; a flicker of hope, a reminder that he'd come here not to die, but to fight.

If he crumbled now, let Jessamine-the-demon destroy him, then what had been the point of making the lengthy drive while allowing a Guide to possess him? What had been the point of coming back to the California portal and offering his help for the mistake he'd made?

"No," he said, lowering his arms, staring Jessamine in her glowing red eyes. "No, you won't kill me. Not with her still inside. Jessamine!" He stared deeper into her eyes, seeking to see past the red, to visualize the light and soft green that represented the real her. The non-demonic her. "Fight them, Jessamine. Fight. They want to kill me, and you don't want that, do you? No, you kissed me, you showed me you were still in there. You're stronger than they think, so don't give up. Don't let them kill me!"

The red in her eyes illuminated, lighting up the area before her, and blinding Avery for a few instants. As he rubbed his own eyes, begging to regain his sight, he heard her footsteps as she stomped up to him. He sucked in his lips and his body tensed, anticipating her clutch, her claws to rip through him.

But she didn't touch him, didn't use her power to hurl him into the air and suffocate him, as she had earlier that day.

He opened his eyes, able to see at last—but he wished he'd kept them closed.

She remained close, her gaze deadly, her figure leaning menacingly forward. Her proximity alone was what clawed into Avery, causing him to double over, to hold on to his stomach as if it were about to explode.

The scent of her was enough to weaken him—not even a scent anymore, but a stench of blood, pungent and gag-worthy. It overpowered any trace of sweet, spicy cinnamon that she'd once evoked. It decimated any trace of the lust he'd felt for her earlier. Everything luscious and lovely about her was gone, completely gone this time, leaving nothing but the odor of pure, raw evil.

She differed from when she'd found Avery in the California basement, for sure. Red dominated her gaze and the glow surrounding her body, but there were red and blue veins coursing up her neck, feeding into her face. There was no white in her eyes at all, they were completely red, like big drops of blood had replaced her pupils. Squinting, he noticed there was white in her hair, which had gone from a shiny, dark brown to a sleek and stark black.

Her energy was so strong it created blasts of wind to swirl up from the ground itself, warping around her like some sort of protective barrier. The house still shook, still threatening to collapse—but Avery felt he'd collapse first.

"You dare try those tactics on us again, boy?" Her voice was morphed, no longer sounding anything like Jessamine. It fused with several voices, feminine, masculine, neutral. But they were all low and growling, and worsening the migraine already jarring through Avery's temples. "She's weakening, you see. Oh, she hears you, sees you, smells you; but that's it. She can't reach out, she can't take over like she did last time. We're stronger now, and that love she harbors for you? It's fading, as we eat her alive."

"Stronger." Avery coughed, wiping his face, sensing the taste of blood dribbling out his mouth, though it was only an illusion. Nothing came out of his mouth, not really; she was leading to him to lose his mind. "Because you filled her up with blood? You vampiric, cannibalistic pieces of shit!" He slammed his lips shut and froze, realizing how harsh his words had come out. And how he'd dared utter them like that to one so powerful and angry.

She's going to murder me for sure, now. That was way too bold.

To his surprise, Jessamine-the-demon cackled; a sound so ear-piercingly atrocious that he had to cover his ears until she finished. "We don't eat people, you moron. We only drink their blood. Does the draining kill them? Yes, but it's for a necessary cause. Call us vampires if you wish, but that's not our real name. We're not even demons, you know. We're... nothing. Dead souls. Angered spirits. Globs of energy. But in here," she pointed at her chest, between the crease of her pressed-together breasts, "we're growing. We're powerful. Learning. Soon, we'll have a name that instills fear in anyone who hears it. It'll grant us reverence, dominance, power. Soon, we'll have the world we want, and you and your puny little friends won't be around to stop us, because we'll eliminate anyone in our way."

Avery held in a sort, grabbing at his belly to squeeze it, block its gurgling. Jessamine's words were like the plot of a bad movie; one where the big bad guy wants to rule the world for no reason at all except to be the big bad boss.

But Avery knew better. He knew what the demons wanted—a world where everyone, including themselves, were equal. No one got special treatment, no one was locked up in a realm because they were too angry or dangerous. Everyone—the alive and the dead—fended for themselves and there was no gray area. It was black or white, and you dealt with it.

Avery wasn't one to encourage gray areas, but to not have a choice? To be confined to the earth for all eternity, to live amongst all sorts of supernatural creatures, or to die and roam and envy those who were still alive? He didn't want that. Nobody would want that.

He smelled her fury as she continued to glower at him, the corners of her lips hiking up to form a grin. A deadly, heart-stopping grin. He sensed the pulsating of her veins, the sound echoing in his ears. He detected the stink of blood on her skin, noticed the blood stained on her chin, and more of it still wet on her fingers, dripping to the ground. Her arms were at her sides, not tensing, not looking ready to rise up and shove him into a wall.

So calm. Too calm.

"Just... let her go." Avery's voice was frail, and he cringed at it. "Do what you need to do, but get out of her. Give her a chance to live, and take... take me instead."

He remembered what the demons had said, what Ada had implied. Jessamine would be useless once they were energized enough, once they'd taken all her strength. A vessel they'd discard, meaning she'd die, whether or not her soul had survived their overhaul.

He didn't want Jessamine to die. He didn't want to kill her, and he didn't want to watch her fall to ashes once the demons released her, moving on to their next plans of destruction. She needed to be alive to thwart their attempts; she needed to be alive because she, of all people, knew the demons best.

They're inside her, invading her. She should be the one to stop them, not me.

If he were their vessel, instead, he knew someone would kill him, kill the demons. And he knew who that person would be.

Grimacing—he was still in agony from Jessamine's malevolent energy—he spun to the stairs, finding Jamie standing on the last one, looking at the scene with his jaw dropping.

Jamie—Jamie would kill Avery, if it came down to it. He'd even kill Jessamine, since he'd already tried to.

Maybe he was right; maybe he can be of use to me.

"Fuck, man," said Jamie, in a tone barely above a whisper. "You weren't kidding. She's..." He shook his head, his gray eyes widening, reflecting the red of Jessamine standing across from him. "I have no words."

"Oh?" Jessamine's sudden interest drew Avery to turn back to her. She'd tipped her head and her gaze had found Jamie. "You brought this one along, did you? Interesting."

Avery instantly sprang forward to bar Jamie, to hide him, but it was too late—Jessamine licked her lips as she lifted an arm and summoned Jamie to her, using her power to force him towards her. He stumbled, grunting, trying to protest her hold on him, but he had no choice but to move up to stand in front of her.

She sniffed at him, licking her lips again. "Jessamine tells us he tried to kill her."

Avery jolted forward, but Jessamine used another arm to whip out her hand and stop him, dead in his tracks. His feet were rooted to the floor and he couldn't move. That power, again, that strength; he was useless against it. He opened his mouth to yell at her, but realized she'd cut off his vocal cords, too. His mouth gaped open, and no sound came out.

These were abilities the demons in the demonic realm hadn't told him about.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Don't let her get to you, Jamie!

Jamie was facing her, and couldn't see Avery frantically mouthing at him to fight it, fight her!

She was drooling, continuing to sniffle at every inch of Jamie's skin. "He smells strong, hm. But not fully human? Strange," she backed away and squinted at him, "oh, something else was in him. There's a piece of something..." She pressed a fingertip into his torso, tipping him slightly backwards, but he didn't fall. "Oh, he was possessed, wasn't he? And by," she curled her lip, "by a Guide, no less."

She twisted to look at Avery, maintaining her spell on Jamie. She sniffed the air, and frowned.

"Hm, you were too, weren't you?" She refocused on Jamie. "But this smell, inside him... it's familiar to Jessamine. She knows it. It brings her... comfort. And we..." She grinned, setting both hands on Jamie's shoulders. "Oh, we want it. It'll help her concede herself to us, it'll help us better overpower her."

Avery's spine spasmed as he sought to battle the power she had over him, the magic holding him in place. He knew, he knew exactly what Jessamine was about to do, and he hated that he'd predicted it. Hated that he'd had a hunch this whole time. Hated that he'd told his best friend to stay out of this, and he'd been right.

Avery tried to scream at her, but still, he had no access to his own voice.

Jessamine moved one hand to wrap around the top of Jamie's neck, heaving him into the air with ease. His legs dangled, kicking forward as if to try to get at her, but she held him at a sufficient distance that didn't allow him to touch her.

"Fuck... you," said Jamie, his words constricted, sounding difficult to force out.

Avery only saw the side of his face, the muscles twitching there, the blanching of his skin as he likely realized what was about to happen.

Releasing him, but keeping him magically levitating over the ground, Jessamine sent a brief, evil glare at Avery, before lifting a finger in front of her face and watching as her nail elongated, serrated, turning into a deadly weapon. And without further ado, she emitted an eerie moan of pleasure as she sliced that nail across Jamie's throat.

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