Page 69 of Filthy Little Witch
Funny, I’d always thought it would be some bloodsucking monster or rabid shifter that would take me out. But no. My soul would be an appetizer for Hell’s most fucked-up reject. All the shit I’d done. All the cruel ways fate had screwed with me. And this was it. What a way to go.
My dad’s mysterious words came back to me.
Don’t let him go.
Could this be what he meant? Was it the demon I wasn’t supposed to let go of? If my dying meant they were saved, I wouldn’t fight it. As long as they were safe.
“Atlas!” Marta screamed inside my head.
“Go! Get to safety!” I tried to tell her, but my consciousness was giving out on me, and the thick swell of red liquid burned my eyes. Blood. I must have banged myself up pretty good if the shit was getting all over the place.
I fought as much as I could, struggling against the beast’s hold, but the more I moved, the tighter its vise grew around me. I tried to aim my pistol in its direction, but I couldn’t move my body around to the right angle. The evil energy radiated from the demon into my skin, permeating my blood, soaking down to my marrow. My body boiled from the inside out, like every atom, every microparticle, had been set on fire. I was an inferno, ready to implode.
Heart pounding and blood rushing to my head, I almost gave up. Marta and Wes were safe in the church and?—
Loud gunshots rang out, the zing of bullets buzzing by my ears. Marta stood on my left, her hands in the air, bright white light emanating from her palms. Wes was on the other side, raining lead and salt down on the demon until it was forced to retreat. The grip on my ankles loosened, and I dropped six feet, landing hard on my back.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t move. But Wes put his arms under my shoulders and lifted me, practically dragging me into the church. Once we were inside, I collapsed on the floor, gasping for oxygen and holding my insides together.
“Atlas.” Marta scrambled to kneel next to me. “Are you okay? Let me see.”
“Is it working?” I wheezed, rolling onto my side to look around at the rows of pews, culminating in the enormous crucifix at the head of the altar. “Are we safe?”
“I don’t know,” Marta said, wrapping her arm under my back to help me sit up. “I think so.”
“It’s keeping him out.” Wes glanced up at the stained glass above the organ pipes, where the smoke hit the wall and cascaded up the building and over the roof. It covered the rest of the windows and spread out until it blocked the sun, effectively trapping us inside.
“But we’re stuck,” Marta added. She prodded at the wound on the back of my head, but that felt like a paper cut compared to the burn in my veins. I wanted to tear my clothes off. I wanted to flay my skin from my muscles. I could barely stand her touch.
“What happened to you?” Wes squatted down so he could get on my level, but I still couldn’t focus. Their bodies danced in front of me, morphing into two and then three of them before combining into one again.
“It’s inside me,” I sputtered. The words tasted like venom, and my throat ached to say them.
“What?” Marta hissed.
“It’s…inside me. I’m burning. I’m…I’m dying.” I scratched at my neck, tearing my shirt away to get at my skin.
“Stop it,” Marta said as Wes grabbed my arms to hold me still. “Stop. It’s not inside you. It’s outside. You’re safe.”
Trembling and sobbing, I tried to catch my breath, but every movement hurt. I thought I’d never feel good again.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Marta said, bringing her brown eyes level with mine, cupping my jaw the same way I’d done to her at Tita’s house. “Breathe with me.”
I focused on her inhales, sucking air in even though it sliced open my lungs, and I pushed it out when he did, shaking with the force of the exertion.
“Good,” she said. “Again.”
Together, we breathed down the adrenaline and the lasting demonic effects ringing in my blood. And once the pain started to fade, I relaxed against Marta’s body.
“Fuck,” I said and lifted my arms to rub over my face. I was covered in scrapes, bruises, and blood. My ankles were the worst of it. Deep searing welts wrapped around my legs just above my socks, blistered and furious. I wasn’t even sure I could walk.
“You’ll be okay,” Marta said. “I’ve got some herbs and my magic and…” Her voice cracked as she tried, and failed, to hold it together. “You’re gonna be okay.”
“Don’t fret over me, little witch,” I managed to string together even though my teeth were chattering. “You still hate me, remember?”
She laughed and pressed a kiss to my temple. “Yeah. That’s right.”
“Good,” I said, patting her arm. “Good. All’s right in the world.”
