My brain was stuck in a loop. I leaned back against the inside of my motel room door, clutching the room key to my chest.

 How had I been this stupid? Things I’d just… ignored came back to smack me in the face – Bradley’s uncanny appearances, Gregory’s seemingly magical supply of quills and parchment scrolls, even Chloe’s otherworldly beauty. It wasn’t coincidence. 

Things had gotten weird underground. First, Archie’s strange fade out. I thought perhaps he’d had a stroke, and searched my brain for the appropriate first aid acronym. Was it ABCD? No, FAST. Face, arms, something something…

Then a glittering cavern had opened out of nowhere, and the three strode confidently into it, inspecting the rainbow flecked walls as though they were scoping out a building site. Gregory had let out a low whistle as Owen had turned, his eyes locking on to mine.

They were no longer the inky black I’d grown used to. Not even the pinkish reflection of the headlamps. His irises had become a deep, flaming crimson. Only the pupils were still dark, but black, vertical slits. 

Christ! Or rather, Antichrist? I wasn’t quite up on my bible study. 

I’d read the Hellblazer comics. There was not a doubt in my mind. Demons. They were actual, bona fide demons. Bent on… opal mining? 

In the cavern, Owen’s gaze had faltered as he stared at my face. He crossed the shimmering floor and grabbed me by the shoulders, and I realised the ragged gasping sound I could hear was coming from my own mouth. Owen shook me gently and said something, but all I heard were bubbles.

Please don’t kill me.

“Sorry.” When I spoke, there was nothing but a watery echo.

More bubbling sounds, then Owen had hauled me from beneath the armpits like a front-line nurse. Gregory followed after some complicated hand gestures that sealed the cavern into a shrinking point of light.

Someone buckled me into the jeep. The conversation around me had slowly returned to normal. Then Gregory had said something about a plane crash?

In the darkened motel room, I took a shaky breath. Everything after that had been a pleasant, hazy dream. There had been… pinkness.

Shit. Holy, holy crap. Was that what they did to Archie?  

There was a booming knock the door, and I lurched forward. “Wh-who is it?” Please be housekeeping, with some nice fresh towels. Or room service. Not more hellspawn!

It was Gregory. He seemed pissed.

“Come and have dinner.” He turned on his heel and stalked off.

Resisting the urge to dive under the bed, I followed him. I’d just watched them open a portal in solid rock, an aging motel door wasn’t going to stand much of a chance. Best to cooperate, Braith.

After all, this was my hometown. My turf. I’d stumbled home drunk from Shelby’s place dozens of times. I would play along and slip away later.

On our way to the jeep, Owen wore a troubled expression. I looked away hastily, but my breath caught at the sight of that face creased into a gentle frown. 

Was he worried about me?