Page 8 of Mayhem and Ember

Yes, they would, and they should. “If Mom and Cinder were here, they’d know exactly what to do. They don’t make mistakes like I do.”

Ash gave me a WTF look, lifting one hand and dropping it at her side. “All of this is happening because of Mom and Cinder’s mistakes. Mom messed with the wrong demon. Cinder acted alone when we could have helped her. They screwed up too.”

I fought to keep my lower lip from pouting. Why did my little sister always make such good points?

“And we won’t have to tell them everything.” She shook her head, drumming her fingers on the canister. “It’s almost Halloween, so some thinning is natural. We’ll say the rest is Chrys’s fault. That she summoned a demon to take over the coven, but you stopped her.”

I laughed dryly. “You mean you stopped her. You performed the exorcism and the vanquishing.”

“Which I couldn’t have done without you. I don’t need any of the credit.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “You might have to stop me soon if we can’t get to Cinder and Discord before I…”

“Hey. Stop that.” I clutched her shoulders, dipping my head to catch her gaze. “We’re going to break the curse.”

“Or die trying.” She smiled sadly and shrugged out of my grasp. “I don’t know, Em. Some of the thoughts I have aren’t very light-witch-like. Here.” She handed me the salt and tugged her phone from her pocket.

I looked at the canister, the little girl with her umbrella and yellow dress taunting me, and put it next to the skull. These witches were my responsibility. Mom and Cinder might have started the trouble, but I was to blame for the ones who had died. “We won’t lose anyone else.”

“Not if we can help it.” She handed the phone to me and offered a piece of chalk. “Draw Mayhem’s sigil in the center of the circle, and we’ll be ready to activate the containment when the others get back.”

“Me?” I held the phone and chalk toward her. “You’re the artist. This is your wheelhouse.”

She raised her hands, refusing to accept them. “It doesn’t feel right for me to do it. He’s not my demon.”

“Well, he’s not mine either. I’d rather not have anything to do with him.” I set the items next to the skull and crossed my arms. “And you better get whatever romance novel trope you’re thinking of out of your head. Just because you like getting it on with a demon doesn’t mean I want to.”

She laughed. “I’m not trying to set you up with Chaos’s brother, but one Prince of Hell is all I can handle. Mayhem will owe whoever draws his sigil a favor, and I would rather it not be me.”

“But you’re good at handling demons.”

“I’m good with my demon. It’s someone else’s turn, and that someone is you.”

I glared at Ash and picked up the chalk. “Fine. But don’t even think about putting his mark anywhere on my skin. The faster we break the curse and send the demons back to hell, the better.”

A shadow crossed her features, her gaze drifting to the floor as she drew her shoulders upward. She straightened, looking at me as if my third eye were suddenly visible, and shook her head. “Do you even hear yourself when you speak?”

“What kind of a question is that?” I squinted at the sigil on the phone and kneeled at the edge of the ring.

“Guess not.” She bumped her fist onto the salt canister, closing the little metal spout. “Tell me what you said.”

I sighed and sat back on my heels, searching my brain for whatever wrong thing I might have uttered. “I told you I don’t want his mark on my skin.”

She crossed her arms. “After that.”

The tension in my neck increased, causing an ache at the base of my skull. You’d think, after unlocking her full power and getting her brains banged out nightly by the supposed love of her life, she’d be less emotional… Oh.

Well, feck. “I’m sorry, Ash. I didn’t mean?—”

“You didn’t mean the sooner I lost my soulmate the better?”

“No, I didn’t.” I glanced at the sigil again and pressed the chalk to the wooden floor, dragging it downward before looping back up. “I wasn’t thinking about that part of our predicament.”

“You never do,” she mumbled under her breath.

I pretended not to hear. Goddess knew I wasn’t the best when it came to peopling. Tiptoeing around emotions and sugar-coating words had never been my strong suit; that was no secret. It wasn’t often I thought to ask a ghoul how its day was before lobbing off its head.

“It goes left.” Ash squatted next to me and pointed at the design.

I compared what I’d drawn to the image on the screen. “Damn, you’re right. Do I need to start over?”

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