“Our lives rest in the hands of Bloodworth?”  Repulsion laced Gwyneira’s tone, and she curled her lips like she’d sucked on a sour lemon. She looked up toward the vaulted ceiling, signing the cross over her heart. “Goddesses, protect our souls because we are royally screwed.”

“Have more faith in the vamp.” Merritt never thought the night would come where he’d utter such a thing. 

“Do you know how many interns that bloodsucker blows through?” Gwyneira asked.  “Because I do.  We place bets on how long they last.  You’re the fourth one this month alone.  He’ll think you just bailed on him like the others have.  He won’t care what happened to you.”

Those words burned against Merritt’s skin because he should’ve believed them.  He was merely a new intern, nobody of importance.  Yet he’d accomplished far beyond any of his prior employees could ever do.  Bloodworth was in awe of his skills, but was that enough to warrant his concerns for him? 

That monstrous wail came again, with far more power.  The building itself rumbled at the creature’s outcry, and Merritt feared it wouldn’t take much longer until it found them. They’d locked themselves up in the courtroom they’d originally entered, where Merritt had waited for his boss before realizing what had happened.  Gwyneira used her magic to cast a locking spell over it, but Merritt knew such magic was futile in a demon’s domain.  

Merritt wandered over to the table he’d sat at, tracing his fingers along the wood.  “I remember when I was little, it was me and my mom trapped in a demon’s domain like this.  She got a message out to my father, but I can’t remember how she did it.  I was so young.” He groaned in frustration.  

“At least you’re familiar with this demon crap.” Gwyneira squeezed her winged cat tightly in her arms.  “I wouldn’t have even known what this place is.”

“I guess it’s a good thing I have demon hunters for parents.” Merritt chuckled.  “Who would have thought those skills would come in handy for court?”

How in the hells could he communicate with his boss from a different realm?  Merritt planted both hands on the table, channeling as much energy as possible into the wood.  Powers fluctuated very differently in demon realms.  What he thought was a lot of energy could equate to about a minimum amount here.

Once the exhaustion settled into Merritt’s veins, he let go with a soft groan.  “I don’t think anyone’s up there in our world.”

“Your boss likely went back to his office.” Gwyneira shook her head, lips quivering with each word.  “We’re trapped here.  Whatever’s out there looking for us is going to find us and make a snack out of us.”

“His office…  Gwyneira, you’re brilliant!” Merritt rushed toward the door, beckoning for her and Bandit to follow.

With a gentle coaxing of magic, he eased the door to peek out into the vacant hallway.  Silver embers slithered out at his feet.  When none shifted to a dangerous shade of black, he cracked it open just enough to slip out.  Bandit trailed close behind him with Gwyneira and her familiar, all casting a silencing spell on their footsteps too prevent whatever was out there from hearing them.

It was only a matter of time before that demon found them.  Merritt wracked his brain for those old memories, but it was like sifting through a stranger’s dusty basement trying to find them.  He had no idea how his mother had gotten help for them all those years ago.  There had to be a spell of some sorts, right?

By the time they reached Bloodworth’s private courthouse office, Merritt still had no clue how he’d communicate with his boss.  He cracked open the door and peeked inside to ensure no demons awaited them inside.  The room smelled of sulfur and foul rotten fruits.  Nothing like the pristine office his boss maintained.

Were such smells an indication of how they could escape?  Or were they present because the demon had made the space its hideout? 

With how someone had intentionally tried to set loose a demon on his boss once already, he wouldn’t be surprised if one remained so close to him in another dimension.  Just watching and waiting for the day it could finally escape.

“Look.” Gwyneira pointed toward Bloodworth’s desk, where a shadowy figure hunched over it.  “That has to be him in our world, right?” She squinted her eyes.  “Or is it the demon playing tricks with us?”

“It’s him.” Merritt’s voice hitched.  

“How can you be sure?” Gwyneira asked.

Merritt approached the desk, hoping by some miracle his boss could see beyond the veil of their world and into the demon’s domain.  He knew how unlikely that was, especially with the charm he’d given him, but he would try regardless.  Perhaps he should’ve regretted ever buying the thing.  Or wished he’d kept it for himself.  But he didn’t.

No part of him wanted Bloodworth to endure a fate so ghastly as a demon’s domain. Merritt had fought tooth and nail to get where he was today, but he’d been trapped in a hellish mind-prison all too similar to the demon’s domain once before.  There was a time he thought he’d never escape it.  Not unless death claimed him and dragged him away.  He’d never wish for anyone to experience such a cruel and dark place.

“Bloodworth?” Merritt called out his boss' name, but he knew it wouldn’t be that easy.  

Not even when he approached the desk and planted both hands atop it, his shadow didn’t acknowledge him.  Magic poured out of his fingertips in undulated embers.  And then his gaze landed on the new untouched crystal ball.  If that ghost could trap herself within one, could he use it to his own advantage and convey a message?

Merritt could not even fathom how the spirit had floated into the crystal ball or remained trapped inside it until forcefully expelling herself.  He doubted he could even do such a thing, as he still retained a human form.  

However, he wondered if it were possible to get a message across as he planted both hands on the orb, channeling more magic into the glass with soft prayers to any goddesses that could hear him.

“Please, hear me.  I need your help, Bloodworth.” Merritt gripped the crystal ball so tightly, his knuckles whitened.  When the shadowy figure at the desk still made no indication of acknowledging him, frustration built up amid his panic-stricken soul.  “Don’t be a stupid bat on me now, dammit!  Open your ears!”

“I’m sorry, Merritt. I don’t think he’ll respond.” Gwyneira shook her head behind him with a pained look in her eyes.

“Come on, Bloodworth.” Defeat weighed heavily on his heart, and he flinched at the sound of how close the beast wailed again.  In a softer, more pained voice, he said, “Don’t leave me here to die like they once did.  Prove to me you’re a better vamp than those bloodsuckers were.”

In a twisted way, the shadow had angled his head to make it appear like Bloodworth was staring right at him.  Merritt reached out for him, fingers going through the hazy figure like it were nothing but an illusion, and perhaps it was.  Demons loved to mess with their victims’ minds.  What better way to do that than to torment them with the possibility of help?

“I need you, dammit.”

What else could he do?  He had always been so diligent with his studies and memorizing everything that pertained to ghosts and demons.  So why in the hells could he not remember how one could reach the real world when trapped in a devil’s hellish pit?  

It wasn’t fair.  

Why was the world so against him?  He’d move three steps ahead only to be pushed down a flight of stairs at the least expected moment.  Merritt had escaped death before, but he wasn’t sure he’d be so lucky again.  Regardless, he wouldn’t go down without a fight.  If that demon wanted them so badly, then Merritt would give it all he had.  

In a last effort to alert Bloodworth, Merritt ripped the crystal ball off his desk and flung it across the floor.  He wasn’t sure if destroying objects in the demon’s domain did anything to those back in their world, but he hoped it did something. 

Seeing all the glittering shards on the floor gave him an idea. Merritt reached for one of the glass pieces and pressed it to his index finger, until it drew blood.  He silently prayed to any Goddesses able to watch over them that it would work.

Blood magic was his final effort in reaching out for Bloodworth.  Power rippled through his veins as he allowed his blood to flow freely across the desk, spelling out how he needed help and to meet him in the courtroom.  It probably wouldn’t work.  Hope had already drained from Merritt’s heart, until the shadowy figure behind the desk abruptly slipped away from behind the desk and out the door.

“What did you do?” Gwyneria asked, following after the shadow out into the hall.

“I think I got to him.” Hope blossomed like a moonflower in his pounding heart.  “I told him to meet us back in the courtroom.  We need to try reaching for the door the same time he does, and hopefully, it’ll yank us back into our world.”

Gwyneira didn’t hesitate to chase after the shadowy figure with him, but doubt still painted her weary features.  “Are you sure this will work?  It’s Bloodworth.”

“It has to work. He can’t lose his best intern.” 

“You better hope it does.” Gwyneira’s expression shifted into something Merritt couldn’t quite read.  Doubt, perhaps?  Sadness and fear all rolled into one?

Merritt knew he should’ve shared her fears and doubts, but as they chased after that shadow, only thoughts of freedom crossed his mind.  Perhaps he was casting the spell before summoning the magic, yet something deep within him insisted they’d be safe and Bloodworth would pull through for them.  

“There he is.” Gwyneira hissed under her breath, pointing ahead. 

“Hurry!” Merritt’s footsteps echoed in sync to his frantic heartbeat as Gwyneria raced ahead of him, her fingers wrapped around the door handle together with Bloodworth’s on the other side. He planted his own hand atop of hers just as he pulled it open, and Merritt plunged inside the courtroom. 

All he could imagine was pulling Bloodworth into a tight embrace once they returned, but Merritt found himself all alone in the courtroom. The door slammed behind him, causing poor Bandit to hiss at his feet. She stood up on both legs, pawing at his legs so he’d pick her up. Merritt squeezed her tightly to his chest, anxiety clawing at his throat as he took in the familiar vacant courtroom. 

Gwyneira must’ve crossed back into their world. 

He did not. 

“Hello?” Merritt called out into the void. His voice carried like an echo down a deep tunnel, reverberating off the suffocating walls. 

Why didn’t it work?  Could only one person return at a time? 

Tightness welled in Merritt’s throat, but he suppressed the urge to scream.  It would do nothing but alert the demon of his location.  With Gwyneira on the other side, perhaps they had a chance to try it again.  Merritt just needed to wait outside the courtroom for either Bloodworth or Gwyneira to open him a portal back through.  

Despite the fear nestled deep within his bones, Merritt swung the courtroom door with all the force he could muster within his body.  The demon wailed down the hallway, and when he turned to look in its direction, color drained from his face.  For it was no demon that crept upon him with four pairs of devilish, hungry eyes and a mouthful of razor sharp teeth.

It was a two-headed bloodhound.