Page 18 of Death Match

Oh, for the love of God and all that is flying, glowing, and holy, I hoped not.

Cautiously, I approached it. The air shimmered and flashed angrily around the edges of the trailer.

Yikes.

The closer I got, the louder Angel’s barking became. The trailer was so clear, it was as if I could step right through and touch it.

Wait, could I?

Holding my breath, I held out my hand. I was instantly met with the same strange goo substance I’d felt when Eli, Lisa, and I, had escaped Hell the first time, through the thinned-out part of the veil Monnie had showed me. Where demons had been getting through.

Following the same idea as that time, I pushed through what was left of the veil, hating the way it slid across my skin. Like I was stepping through a wall of cold Jell-O. Every hair on my arms stood on end.

When I finally broke free of it, I stood in front of Sean’s trailer. As real as day. Angel rushed off the porch, missing most of the steps, and jumped up on me. Her massive weight almost toppled me over, but if she was on me, that meant I was solid again.

I glanced over my shoulder. Through a hazy fog, the afterlife could still be seen. There was Arrogant Bastard’s neon sign and the dirt path leading to the street.

This was bad. If I hadn’t caused the hole—and I was starting to suspect it hadn’t been me—then that meant things were only getting worse. The barrier was almost no more. Completely gone, with the living and the dead worlds fully meshing together. And if that happened, then it would be disastrous.

Uneasiness skated through me. No wonder Eli had been pushing me to see Michael and get these Trials started. Things weren’t looking good.

With her giant paws resting on my shoulders, Angel whined. She sensed something was up, too.

“I’m going to get it fixed,” I whispered to her. “I’m going to try, at least.”

Her head tilted to the side, and her ears perked up.

I rubbed the spot between them. “That’s from Wyatt.”

Her tail wagged happily as if she knew exactly what I was saying, and she hopped down. I smiled.

“Is Sean home?”

Another head tilt.

“Why am I asking you? I’ll just go check.”

Walking around Angel, I climbed up the steps of the porch and knocked on the crooked storm door to the trailer. The old, tin thing shook on its rusted hinges with every rap of my fist.

Footsteps sounded from inside. I peered up at the low roof and noticed a small domed thing pointed my way, its lens watching my every move. A camera.

Looked like Sean had taken even extra, more modern, precautions on top of his father’s ideas of covering the house and property in ancient symbols of defense and protection.

“Uh, Sean?” I called out toward the camera, unsure if he could hear me through the thing, too. I gave it a hesitant wave. “It’s me.”

“Jade?” Sean’s voice came back through the device all scratchy and muffled by static. His voice echoed from the inside of the trailer, too. “What are you doing here?”

I glanced at the door, wondering how long he was going to keep me waiting outside. I made sure I was standing on the faded Christmas doormat that secretly hid a demon trap underneath to show him it was really me.

“Nothing bad, I promise,” I began. It was weird talking to this piece of hardware. “Just wanted to check in on you and tell you some good news about your mom and dad.”

There was a second of silence on the other end. Then the static came back and he said, “Hold on a second.”

His footsteps grew louder as he approached the door. There were a few clicking and sliding sounds, as if he was undoing a bunch of newly installed locks on the other side, and then the inner door opened, revealing Sean, Wyatt’s son, in his normal baggy jeans and a long plaid shirt combo.

He held up a finger to tell me to wait one more second. Rising on his tiptoes, he pulled his sleeve over his palm and rubbed something above the doorframe. When he deemed it good enough, he pushed the slab of tin and glass separating us open.

“What the heck was that all about?” I asked, about to step inside. His held-out hand stopped me.

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