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𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 : 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐈𝐍 

𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑

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I woke slowly, blinking away dim lights above me and the strange spinning dots. My chest burned, as did my side, but I could wiggle my toes and my fingers. I blinked again, a strange ache in my eyes like I had stared at something bright for too long. There was a soft pressure in my chest, like something cold seeping through me and into my blood. Licking my lips, I found them just as dry as my mouth and it was hard to remember where I was.

Why was I on the floor?

"Oh, thank god!" A voice came from beside me and when his eyes met mine, it came rushing back in horrible, horrible waves.

Tobias. Blondie's party. Tobias with a gun. Tobias with a gun shooting me.

Collapsing, blood everywhere, Beatrice helping me, getting to Crow's cabin by sheer necromancer luck. Passing out and seeing her, she was here, wasn't she? Or had it been all in my head, a fighting memory to calm me into the next life?

His face appeared above mine and he helped me sit up, his hands warm and strong against my back and they lingered there as I leaned against him with a tightness in my side that still burned.

"How long was I out?" I asked, my voice noticeably hoarse and my throat just as dry as my mouth.

"Twenty minutes, at least," Crow told me.

I looked up at him and was surprised to see silver lining his eyes. Had he been the crying voice I had heard in my strange dream? It seemed likely, even more so as he clung to my back. "I–" I shook my head, I couldn't find the words to speak.

"I thought you were dead," he spoke for me, urgency and something unfamiliar laced in his voice. I hadn't exactly pegged him for one to care, at least care for me. "Blaire..." I met his gaze, loving the way my name rolled off his tongue like something forbidden. "I should've gone with you like you said. If I had, none of this would've happened."

"You'll know better for next time," I said in return, rolling to my side to push up to my feet. The ground was slick and sticky underneath my feet and Crow rushed to stand, grabbing me by the arm and helping me. He kept a grip on my elbow and I forced myself to look back up and into his eyes. "I'm okay," I forced myself to say, knowing it wasn't true but I would not cry in front of him. Not again. Not right now.

"I failed you," he whispered and there was something in his eyes that told me that even though I said I was okay, he wasn't. His hand left my arm and I noticed how it was covered in my blood, most of him was. His pajama pants were soaked through at the knees and was smeared against his thighs. Even his shirt was splattered and soaked from where he must've held me. There was even a few droplets of black blood amongst my startling red that crawled up his arms and was even along his jaw from where he must've rubbed his face. The bloodied hand that left my arm went to my face, touching my cheek so gently it felt as if I was being caressed by a feather or the tickling fur of a cat. "I won't ever fail you again."

"It's okay," I tried again but my voice was failing me. It came out as a hoarse croak, cracking as I shook my head.

"I was upset, from earlier, and it kept me from seeing the true danger in allowing you to leave without protection," he said, rubbing his thumb once under my eye before his hand dropped back to his side. "You called me and I deliberately ignored it. I was acting out and it nearly cost you your life." He ran a nervous hand through his hair and it was my turn to reach out but he shook his head, taking a step back with a look of regret over his face. A look of anger only for himself. "I went into your room after I missed your call and saw you'd left your knife and I still didn't call back. Blaire..." He trailed off again and a gasp of shock fell from my lips as he knelt down on one knee.

"What are you doing?" I asked harshly, feeling my skin be set aflame with nervous embarrassment.

He held his hand out and reached towards something on the ground with the other. I realized in horror at what it was only after he began to drive the kitchen knife across his open palm, splitting skin and rushing out with black tar blood. "I swear fealty to you, Blaire Lake."

"Oh, oh god," I breathed, shaking my head and kneeling down in front of him. I took hold of his bleeding hand, still shaking my head as I closed his hand around the healing wound and said in a whisper, "You don't have to do this, I-I trust you, okay?"

He met my eyes, his own lined with silver. "No, you don't."

"I can learn to."

"Let me do this for you," he whispered and he raised his hand as if to touch me but thought against it and let it fall to his side. "I messed up tonight and I promise you it won't ever happen again."

I nodded, forcing a smile.

He raised his knife and sliced open the healed wound and his skin broke apart like the blade was cutting through something soft like butter. He raised his bleeding palm and I took his bloodied knife into my hand and sliced my palm. The cut had scabbed over from where I had done the same for Amy but I sliced wider and longer. It stung but I wasn't worried about that, I was too focused on the look in his eyes and the feeling in my chest growing with the steady beat of my heart.

I didn't know if I would ever return this favor. I didn't know if I would ever kneel for him and link myself to him as he was doing to me. I liked to think that, maybe, I would.

"I swear myself to you, Blaire Lake," Crow said, holding his hand out in waiting for me to take him with my own. I laid my palm flat against his and this time, the blood didn't make my stomach churn in horror. Its warmth was a comfort and I curled my fingers over his hand tighter. "I will do no harm to you or the ones you love. I will serve you until my last dying breath and for however long we have together." He let out a shuddering breath and continued in a softer voice and I was glad I wasn't standing because my legs were growing weak. "I swear fealty to you, heart and soul, that as long as we are bound, you will come to no harm by my hand or another."

Heart and soul.

"You can sure try," I muttered and a small smile crept up his lips. I realized I liked the way he smiled as I stared and wondered how it would feel for him to kiss me and smile against my lips. To laugh and to feel the rumble of it against my fingers. It was wrong. It was against everything I'd learned about demons. About who I am.

He brushed a few strands of hair from my face with his free hand, his fingers warm against my flushed skin. "What happened tonight will never happen again as long as we're together."

I nodded because that was all I could do.

We peeled our hands back and I could hear the skin pulling apart with the stickiness of blood coating both of our palms and squished in between our fingers. Black and red mixed together like paint. The wound on my hand had already closed, now just a thin white line. It seemed I would forever be covered in the little white things and their jagged smiles.

He reached past me, still on his knee, to grab something off the ground. He held it out for me in the middle of his bloodied palm and I had no words to say.

The bullet was small, smaller than I had thought. I had gotten so lucky that it hadn't shattered inside of me, that it had stayed in one horrible piece. I took it from him, rolling it around over my fingers and wanting nothing to do with it. Screw the reminder. Screw the memento bullshit.

"Throw it away," I breathed, shaking my head, "please."

He nodded, taking it from me. Our fingers touched and I wanted him to touch me everywhere and the thought was terrifying. Yes, he was older. And yes, he's a demon. And yes, he was my father's best friend before he murdered him. He murdered him.

He murdered your father.

Idiot, idiot, idiot!

I got to my feet, finding myself steady and not at all wobbly like I assumed I would've been. Crow's blood really did wonders, the healing effect much stronger than I had ever expected. I ignored how stiff my clothes were and how I'd need to do laundry as I padded into the kitchen to grab one of the scrub brushes and rags to clean the pool of blood I had been lying in. It was petrifying to see how much blood can come out of a human and even more shocking to know that wasn't even all of it.

Holding the rag and brush, I said, "Now that we're practically bonded, will you tell me something?"

He nodded, grabbing the rag as I tossed it to him. "Anything."

"Why did my father transfer money to you? Just before he died?"

"Grab the bucket underneath the sink," he instructed before sighing, rubbing his forehead. "I thought I'd have more time before I had to answer you."

"More time to think of a good lie, right?" I asked with a hint of a laugh as I got the bucket out and turned the faucet on.

"Something like that," he said uneasily.

Once the bucket was full enough, I walked it back over to where he still sat on the opposite side of the bloody smears. I dropped to my knees softly, wetting the brush before beginning to scrub gently at the floorboards. I waited for him to speak, to explain it all, watching the blood turn a frothy pink with the water and the hard scrubbing.

"It's complicated," started Crow with a sigh. He rung out his rag in the bucket, the water already a sloshy, dirty pink. "We had just done a job together and he owed me cash."

"Doesn't sound that complicated."

"The job was, at the time."

"And are you going to explain that at all or–?"

"It was a long time ago," he said with another sigh.

"Not really," I muttered back.

He gave me a long exasperated look before saying, "We were tracking down a rogue demon who was passing through town and I nearly got gutted for it. Cage gave me money as an apology."

"Fifty thousand was an apology?" I gasped, bewildered. I shook my head, frowning, "And then you still ended up killing him."

"Like I said," muttered Crow, "it was complicated."

Knowing that was the end of the discussion, I got back to scrubbing the blood. My body felt only slightly different from the whole ordeal. Tight in my side and a little sore, but no searing pain or burning. It itched like a healing wound. I had glanced down at my tattered tank top and hadn't seen the mess underneath, not since all the blood came gushing out.

It had been so warm against me, like warm syrup being spilled down my side. It had also been so thin, so fluid, only thick and gooey once it had begun to clot and slow. How I made it back to the cabin at all had been a gift all thanks to Beatrice. If she hadn't kept the pressure I would've bled out in Blondie's basement.

It would be better if she didn't know about what had happened, not until later and she wasn't still drunk or on the way to a major hangover. It didn't seem like we would go hunting for Marshall in the morning, not with how drunk both she and Winker. They needed to sleep in and eat something greasy without the worry of searching for someone who would either have to die or survive.

"I'm going to take a shower," I said, tossing my scrub brush to Crow who dunked it into the bucket of water.

He nodded back, not saying anything as I stood and made my way to my room. I made sure to take my boots off before padding onto the carpet. I didn't need him getting mad at me for tracking blood through his home.

Once inside my bathroom and the shower running hot, I braced myself against the sink. I took in three deep breaths, releasing them slowly to fix the erratic beat of my heart. I peeling my tank top off once I could breathe evenly, letting the thin material fall to the floor along with my skirt and jacket. I stood in my underwear, letting my eyes trails down my torso to where the blood had dried like a peeling fruit.

All that was left was about a two inch white scar against my side. That was all that was left from what had nearly killed me. It was the only thing that brought me closer to Pandora. I braced myself against the counter again, a small pounding erupting in the back of my head. I had seen her and she had seen me, we had been so close it almost felt real. Was the only way to see her again through death? Did I have to hover against the brink to be able to speak to her one last time? To help her move on?

Would I risk my very life and soul for a chance to see her?

Yes. You would.

I looked behind me and towards my bed where Spiorad lay amongst my school papers and bag. It was wrong of me to be tempted, after just returning from the grasp death had on my throat.

Would you die for her? Would you fall into the darkness for a chance to see her light? For a chance at forgiveness and truth?

Yes! Yes! Yes!

I closed the bathroom door and took off the rest of my clothes instead. I bathed myself under the scalding waters until my skin was pink and the water at my feet was red.

~

Blondie called me in the morning around noon. I had gone straight to bed after my shower, wrapped up in my towel without bothering to dry off. I woke up tangled and slightly damp to my phone ringing. She explained that she and Winker would be over around one to go off on our little adventure which I had hoped would've been postponed.

I allowed myself to stay cocooned just a while longer before getting out of bed, promptly sending Blondie the address to the cabin. I brushed my teeth and dressed quickly. A dirty pair of black jeans and a random shirt from my bag I still hadn't unpacked. I didn't want to put my things away, at least I didn't before things changed.

Before the blood oath.

I expected myself to need a quick getaway but that didn't seem so likely anymore.

Exiting the bedroom, I could smell something cooking in the kitchen and couldn't stop the smile that spread across my face as I watched Crow place a toasted sandwich from the stove onto a pretty plate served with what looked like apple slices and carrots.

"Please tell me you made me one too," I laughed as I entered the kitchen and opened the fridge to pull out the orange juice. I poured myself a glass and then one for him as he said, "Already on the table."

I let out a shocked breath. He was right. Waiting for me at the kitchen table was a plate filled with apple slices, grapes, carrots, and a warm sandwich. I said a grateful thank you as I plopped down and instantly began to eat. The sandwich was still warm, the cheese on it melted in my mouth.

"What's on the agenda for today?" Crow asked as he sat down across from me with a cup of coffee. He picked up his own sandwich, giving me a sideways look as I easily finished half of mine before responding.

"Cass and Luke are coming over," I said in between chews, "to find Marshall Hollins in Little Water."

"Little Water?"

I nodded.

"That's right outside Charlon," he explained, popping a grape into his mouth. "A small town, not many residents. Shouldn't be hard."

"Knowing Cass, she probably already has the address saved into her phone," I muttered, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

"You know," he said, reaching for his coffee, "you don't have to come. I can get the address from your friends and go by myself."

It would be easier to have him do what needed to be done but did I really want to risk that? So, I shook my head and said, "No, it's okay. I can go but..." I set down my sandwich. "...I might stay in the car, I don't know if I'll be able to face the kid." I cocked my head to the side with a sigh. "You'll come with us, right?"

He nodded. "Of course I will."

Knowing he was going to be there settled my nerves entirely. Even though both Blondie and Winker would be by my side as well, it felt better to know Crow would be too. It was easier to go through all of this with someone similar to me, someone who understood the game and what was at stake.

We finished our meal and by the time the dishes were done and my boots were on, Blondie was ringing the doorbell. I hadn't even gotten out of the bedroom before Crow was opening the door and she was rushing in, eyes wide with amazement.

"I can't believe you're staying here!"

Winker trailed in after her, holding a box of donuts with a grimace. I faintly heard him greet Crow in a brotherly way. Clasped hands, short hug, pat on the back.

"This place is just too cute, like, ugh!" Blondie continued before stopping. She picked her foot up off the ground in the entrance hall with a frown. "Now, Blaire, don't be alarmed, but there's blood on the floor."

"Uh, yeah," I murmured with a grimace, Crow already moving into the kitchen to wet a towel. "I know."

"You know?" She narrowed her eyes at me with concern and slight alarm.

Crow knelt on the ground by her feet and she stepped past him and towards me as he cleaned what we must've missed.

"Last night got a little..."

She narrowed her eyes even more, advancing on me. "A little what, Blaire?"

"She got shot," Crow answered for me.

Blondie gasped and Winker faltered with the donut box before setting it down in the kitchen. He was the first to speak. "Don't tell me that's why you were acting so weird when you left last night."

Blondie clamped a hand over her mouth. "Oh my god!" She shook her head, reaching for me and grabbing me by the shoulders. "I thought I just imagined seeing that creep from the liquor store there last night, he must've been the one to shoot you, oh my god! Oh my god!"

"How are you even standing?" asked Winker.

Blondie scoffed at him. "How are you even alive?"

"Demon blood can heal," muttered Crow as he stood, inspecting the now slightly glistening woodwork. He glanced up from the ground and towards me and it felt like he was only speaking to me as he said, "She almost died."

"At least tell me you got the asshole who shot you back?" urged Blondie. "At least tell us he's dead and we don't have to worry about him coming back and trying to finish the job."

"Unless he already thinks the job is finished," said Winker. Blondie shot him a glare and he shrugged. "He walked away, he probably thinks he...well, you know." He dragged a line across his neck and lobbed his head to the side, sticking his tongue out.

"Nice, Luke, real sensitive," snapped Blondie before turning back to face me. "I guess it's a little late but we brought donuts. Surprise! Yay!" Her smile died away and she let out an awkward laugh. "Probably should've just led with them, would've been a cheerful way to start the day instead of..."

"Blood? Guns?"

She nodded. "I forget that this isn't all for fun, that it's serious and we're, like, in it."

"Not backing out are you?" asked Crow from the kitchen to which Blondie scoffed and snapped back, "You wish, old man."

Crow ignored her comment as he came back over to say, "Let's head out now, better to get an early start of the day." He glanced at Winker as he grabbed his car keys. "And you better bring those with you."

~

Winker and Crow sat in the front seats, surprisingly talking about sports and normal things like what they planned on doing the rest of the weekend. To hear such mundane conversations after going on and on about death and murder was refreshing to a point that if I continued to listen, I would reach forward and take the steering wheel into my own hands and do something dangerous.

I guess you could say I was a little on edge.

Blondie was trying to engage with me but when I ended up being practically useless the longer we were in the car, she settled for a soft, reassuring smile and then joined in with the boys. My mind was in a completely different space.

One that was imagining what Marshall Hollins looked like and if he would be in school on Monday, or he was with friends and procrastinating on homework like most teens did over the weekend. I pictured him a scrawny looking kid with a mousy face and even mousier hair. He'd be tall for his age, a growing spurt right out of middle school because he's a freshman. At least he was when Cage made the list.

He would be smart, excellent at science and math, mostly because those were the courses I lacked in. He'd have a lot of friends, people he could go to for anything, and a loving family. He'd never have gone to a funeral, he'd never had to see someone dead. He'd see the ghosts but he wouldn't see the corpses.

He was better than that in my mind. More pure and free.

He'd have a best friend, someone bubbly and loud and excited by the little things. They'd be inseparable, unmarked by the world. There was no fear, nothing scary or frightening watching over him like a predatory force of evil. He would be a happy kid and when he'd get older, he'd marry someone who matched him and kept him on his toes, complimenting the other even with their differences. He'd have three kids, two boys and a little girl, and he'd even have a big yellow dog.

Marshall Hollins would not die today.

A fifteen year old kid would not die in my place, it was settled.

The gods will not pluck you up from your sweet living. You will continue to live and breathe and marry.

But what of you? Little ghost girl, this is your calling and you know it. You can't escape fate.

I glanced out the window, watching the passing trees and thinking of Pandora, like I usually did when I had nothing else to worry about and I couldn't keep stressing about Marshall even though I wanted to.

There was the frightening chance that if I did die, I'd fall back into that limbo heaven with her. That she would be the one to guide me out but did I know that for sure? Would she even be there? Or was this her last chance?

Would it be really worth it to drive my knife through my own gut and have the chance to speak to her? Or was I just another fool?

I was a fool, of course.

Little Water was a small town. It had a diner with a flashing sign of a young child in a cowboy hat of all things. It was advertising homemade chicken pot pie and Happy Hour starting at four. There was even a little strip mall with a nail and hair salon and a little boutique I had never heard the name of. All in all, the town was quaint and I don't use that word often.

Lots of blooming trees with little white and pink flowers, like spring had sprung in the quiet town.

When we arrived at the house, I wasn't shocked to find it completely normal. Normal neighborhood with normal houses and normal people walking dogs. I wasn't sure what I was expecting since my own home was just as mundane, but I was hoping for something more definite to show us that this was it. That this was the home of a fellow necromancer.

Instead, it was a brick home with a half circle driveway which we didn't park in and had freshly trimmed grass and a large blooming tree in the front yard. A little swing hung from one of the large branches. This was the home to children.

"I can't go up there," I said, not even realizing I was speaking.

Crow had turned the car off, the atmosphere horrifically silent. Crow turned in his seat, as did Winker. The demon was the first to speak.

"I can stay with you, in the car."

"No." I shook my head. "Go up there, all of you. It'll look better if you all go."

"Are you sure?" whispered Blondie, her hand resting on my arm.

I nodded, urging them to go. They gave me one last look, one of pity perhaps, before getting out of the car. I did the same, resting against the side and watching them cross the street and towards the home.

The air was thick and I knew later we'd get a storm. It was brewing in the wind, slightly humid with a nice chill that runs up bare arms and cheeks. Goosebumps puckered up against pale skin, the sun disappearing behind heavy clouds on the cusp of turning gray.

I watched Crow ring the doorbell and a little man opened the door. I couldn't hear them but I didn't want to. My heart was already lodged in my throat, beating so rapidly I thought I could pass out at any given chance. If I saw a boy come to stand in the doorway next to his father, I'd surely throw up or go blind with fear.

I'd been stressed before but this was different. This was sitting at your desk waiting for your test to be handed out. This wasn't going to the doctors or the dentist's office. Hell, this wasn't standing up in front of an assembly and speaking. This was something cruel. Something foul and rotten, something beautiful that was now rancid.

If they came back to me and said he was here, I would know my fate instantly. No matter how hard they begged, if they would at all, for me to change my mind. I would die in his place in a heartbeat. I was only four years older but it felt as if I were thirty. I had gotten the chance to live more thoroughly than he and I would not allow myself to walk away and let Crow finish it for me. I would never forgive myself if I did that.

To kill a child would be a crime worse than all combined. To kill a boy so unaware would be punishable by hell fire and something far more evil than a demon or devil.

I looked away, trying to rid my mind of a young boy looking to me for help but I couldn't stop seeing his face. Cheeks streaked with tears, blood coating his lips and dribbling down his chin, my knife stuck in his gut like a ritual. A sacrifice that had to be made.

Looking back, I watched them enter the home and the door shut behind them and I wanted to lose my mind. I wanted to heave my guts up, I wanted to tear into my own flesh, I wanted to scream and scream and scream.

I couldn't kill him, I couldn't, I wouldn't–

Will you die for him or will you do what the fates wish upon you? To shed blood and gore and glory? Will you forfeit all that you've strived for? For a child?

Yes. Yes, I would.

Him or me. Him or me. Him or me–me–me–me

The door opened again and my three companions came out. They didn't look grim but they didn't look happy, either. They walked down the steps and back across the street where I pushed away from the car, arms crossed and my nails digging into my skin like a stress ball.

"Did we get the house right?" I asked, looking from one face to the other.

Crow nodded, walking around to the driver's side and rubbing his mouth. He wouldn't speak.

"What happened?" I asked, refusing to get inside. If he was in that house somewhere, I needed to know. I needed to know if I needed to drive a knife into my own gut. I needed to see his face, to look into his eyes and know what I was giving up.

"He wasn't home," Blondie said in a small voice. "But his dad told us where we can find him."

"And we're what?" I breathed. "Just going to go find this kid and tell him it's either me or him?"

Blondie looked to Crow but he didn't meet her eye. When she turned back to me, she said in a soft voice, "Come on, Blaire, we'll take you to him."

~

I rested in the grass on my knees, my heart racing and pulsing rapidly against my ribcage like an angry, flapping bird. The grass was slightly damp, soaking into the legs of my jeans but I couldn't focus on that, not with what was in front of me.

It was colder now. The clouds a darker gray, throbbing with the need to release the storm beginning to thunder within its coat. I let the wind pull and drag my hair across my neck and face, my hands shaking in my lap.

Marshall Hollins' headstone was new and it was inscribed with the words 'beloved son and friend.' He had killed himself two months ago. Got a hold of his father's pistol he kept in the family safe and placed it in his mouth after writing a note detailing why.

I'm sorry I'm doing this to you. It wasn't you guys. You were good to me. I loved you. Things are just complicated and you wouldn't understand but I had to do this. Please know it wasn't what I wanted but it was what had to happen.

I love you.

His mother found him when she got home from work that evening, his father coming home to flashing lights and weeping children, two younger siblings both in middle school.

I didn't realize I was crying until the tears slid off my jaw and down my neck, sickly slow and warm. I was crying for the boy who thought this was his only choice, that because of the genes he'd been passed on from ancestors long before us, he thought he was cursed. He thought he needed to rid himself of this earth in order for someone else to rise.

Two months ago I discovered a ghost in the tunnel. Two months ago I saw my first ghost, one not held back by the childish whimsies of a baby. Two months ago, Marshall Hollins, just a fifteen year old kid, took his own life and I saw my first ghost.

It's cruel the way fate works. And it only gets crueler as time goes on.

ok ok ok uhhhh......rip blaire. she's finally realizing that it's all on her now ..... poor baby will NOT be handling it well in the future

in the next few chapters you're going to be seeing tobias again hehe and im EXCITED for yall to read it eeeee alsooooo there will b some .... revelations towards the end of this act which is going to be ending in the next few chapters too!!!!! act III is going to be.....brutal

vote/comment and maybe....maybe someone we miss will come back in the next few chaps....