Page 21 of The Shadows of Excess

As she left the room, I noticed deep lines of worry creasing Damon’s forehead. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Great, just what we needed. More complications. It’s like we’re juggling dynamite here,” he muttered.

Damon’s fingers moved swiftly over his phone, finding Tim’s number almost by muscle memory. He put the phone to his ear, pacing the room as he waited for Tim to pick up.

“Tim, it’s Damon,” he fired out the moment the call connected. His voice was tense, edged with urgency. “We’ve got a situation here. Sawyer’s been clawed up pretty bad. Looks like demonic work, but we’re not sure.”

He paused, listening to Tim’s gruff voice on the other end. “Yeah, I know, I know. We’re attracting too much attention. But listen, it’s not just any demon. There’s something else at play here.”

Damon glanced at me, his expression softening before he continued. “And before you ask, no, we didn’t bring this on ourselves. Well, not entirely, anyway. Look, we could use some of your old-school wisdom here. Got any lore about demons leaving golden coins?”

He listened, and a smirk appeared on his face as Tim took on a lecturing tone. “Yeah, Tim, I get it. We’re being careful. As careful as you can be when you’re walking on the edge of a knife.”

Damon’s expression turned serious again as he listened, nodding to Tim’s advice. “All right, we’ll keep our eyes peeled for anything else out of the ordinary. Thanks, Tim. Yeah, I’ll keep you posted. And hey, try not to worry too much, old man.”

He asked about Dad. His eyes darkened, then he ended the call and looked back at us, a determined glint in his eye. “Unfortunately, nothing’s changed with Dad.” He flashed Justice an accusing stare. “Still asleep.”

A lump of misery lodged in my throat. Dad wasn’t dead, but he was still in a coma. Tim was too far away. I really could have used their support.

Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm.

My heart thumped violently, and I took several deep breaths to keep from panicking. I’d learned as a hunter that panicking could quicken poison, but I had never dealt with demonic poison. I had no idea how it would work. I was definitely cursed, and I didn’t want to do anything to make it a hundred times worse.

Justice rubbed his forehead. “We know they want Lisa and Aurora?—”

“You know who Aurora is,” I blurted.

Justice brushed my hair back with a thoughtful expression. “Don’t you remember? Aurora is Lisa’s phoenix. That’s what the demons want.”

I stared at him. “Why would he or they want her?”

Justice’s gaze darted between me and Damon. “Phoenixes are powerful. They have control over life and death. The demons must want to harvest this power and use it for some dark purpose.”

His words sent a chill through me, freezing my blood.

Damon’s jaw clenched. “All this supernatural crap is one thing, but why the hell are they singling out Sawyer? Why are they threatening to steal her soul if we don’t find this goony bird?”

Justice looked puzzled. “I don’t get what you mean.”

“The demons. They’ve been messing with Sawyer specifically,” Damon shot back. “The voices, that freaky dream, and now these damn scratches? Why her? They could’ve targeted you, me, or any of us. There’s something else going on here, and we need to figure it out fast.”

Before I could respond to Damon’s comment, the door opened, and an older male doctor entered the room. He had a kind but professional demeanor. “Good morning, Sawyer. I’m Dr. Ward. You seem to be looking much better today. How are you feeling?”

I looked questioningly at Damon, unsure what had transpired.

“You were admitted last night after you passed out.” He gave Justice a look that clearly said this is your fault.

Justice remained seated and seemed unaffected by the accusation in Damon’s stare.

I cleared my throat, trying to sound more confident than I felt as I covered my arm. “I’m feeling better.” Except that I’m freaking cursed.

Dr. Ward checked the beeping board above my bed, then gently picked up my wrist, examining it. “Your vitals seem to be improving. If you continue to respond well, we can consider discharging you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? I have to get out today.” I couldn’t hide the desperation in my voice. The last thing I wanted to do was stay in bed with the clock ticking.

The doctor shut my chart with a decisive snap. “I said you were improving, not that you’re ready to leave. We don’t want you fainting again and ending up right back here, do we? Rest and observation are key for now.”

“She’ll do what it takes to get better,” Damon insisted, but he wasn’t looking at the doc. He was looking at me.

Dr. Ward smiled and put the clipboard back. “Good. Make sure you eat protein. I’ll see you tomorrow, and hopefully, you’ll be ready for release.”

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