I nodded and held out my arm.
Sean wrapped the belt around my arm above my elbow and pulled it tight. Then, Wyatt took the knife, pressed its sharp edge against my skin, and sliced my forearm open. The pain was instantaneous and severe enough to make me gasp. As my blood spilled over, Sean moved the bowl underneath to catch it all.
I watched as the lifeforce I didn’t even know I had drained from me. Besides the pain in my arm, nausea roiled in my stomach and sweat beaded on my forehead. I swayed on my feet.
“Whoa.” Sean was quick to steady me. “Don’t go down on us, Jade.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to force myself to stay awake and focused on what we needed to do. But when I glanced at the bowl again, now halfway full, my head fogged.
“She’s going to pass out.” Laurence’s voice was a distant hum. “Surely we have enough by now?”
“A little more,” Wyatt whispered gruffly.
The seconds felt like hours, but finally, the belt loosened on my arm and pressure was applied to my wound with a towel. Something pressed against my lips, and when cool liquid splashed against my tongue, I realized it was water.
“Drink,” Sean said gently, and I did.
It was as if the water flushed away the haze. Not completely. I was still woozy from the blood loss, but things were becoming clearer.
Sean had the first aid kit ready and began stitching me back together.
After having my forearm slashed open, the stitches were a breeze. I barely felt them at all. Sean was quick and efficient with his care, and it wasn’t long before I was sewed back up and bandaged.
While Sean had been working on me, Wyatt was preparing his makeshift altar. He sprinkled the dirt he had collected earlier from his yard into the bowl of my blood.
“Xaver, demon of the underworld,” he began, talking directly to the mixture, “we call you to the earth with this blood offering.”
The wind picked up around us, turning up the dirt and whipping through the tall grass. The trees farther back on the property, though, didn’t rustle. The mysterious, unnatural breeze only touched the area around us.
Wyatt dunked his hand into the bowl and threw a handful of the blood and dirt onto the ground in front of the table as he spoke. “Rise, Xaver. Rise!” His voice grew more aggressive with every command and wave of his hand. “Rise! RISE! RISE!”
The ground underneath our feet trembled violently, causing the items on the table to teeter. Wyatt and Sean scrambled to hold the things down. Laurence struggled to keep his footing.
Despite the pain in my arm, I pulled off my gloves and readied the gun Wyatt had let me borrow for this special occasion—ironically, the same one I had grabbed during our first encounter with the Halflings. At least it felt familiar in my hands. I’d also loaded it with Holy Water bullets for a bigger punch.
Sean had a similar gun, and he wore a sheathed machete on his hip for backup. Laurence was relying on his defense spells mostly, but just in case that didn’t work, I had slipped a hunting knife I’d found amongst Wyatt’s mess into his back pocket.
“RISE!” Wyatt continued to yell into the darkness. “RISE!”
The air crackled and snapped with power, and the wind became an unruly tornado, throwing up my hair and tossing dirt into the air. I squinted as it smacked against my face and bit my exposed arms and shoulders.
Laurence yelled against the torrent, hands up to block the gale, “Is it working?”
“Oh, he’s coming,” Wyatt called back and grabbed his shotgun. “Get ready, everyone! The bastard’s not going to be too happy we ripped him from his home.”
Then, everything stopped. As if on cue, the blustering winds, the charged energy in the air, the tremors underneath our feet, all stopped, followed by nothing but complete stillness.
It was as if the world itself was holding its breath. The sudden silence after such a flurry of noise and activity was eerie.
A strange prickling sensation rocketed up and down my spine, and when I looked up, I was staring into the glowing red eyes of the full-blooded Hell demon Xaver.