I’m not sure what to think about that, I thought back.
But it’s not going to happen for a while still, came Allison’s reply.
Oh? Is that a psychic hit? I silently asked my friend, whose own psychic abilities were getting scarily strong.
Scary?
Scary as in unknown.
Nice catch, thought Allison. And, yes, that is a psychic hit. I do, after all, work for a prestigious Psychic Hotline.
I grinned. In fact, Allison was one of the few legit psychics who worked at the Hotline, as she called it. Recently, her cases had become...interesting, to say the least.
Only if you consider removing a demon from the world’s most haunted house as interesting, she thought.
Oh, I do, I thought. And you can quit bragging.
Yes, my friend was growing more and more powerful. And apparently, her head was growing bigger, too.
I heard that, she shot back. And it’s not. I still have nightmares about that night.
As she thought those words, I saw the image that flashed through her mind, the image of a man killing himself before her, a man who had been demon-possessed himself.
I should have shuddered at watching the image of the knife being drawn across the man’s own throat. I should have been horrified by the blood that spilled down like a crimson waterfall. I should have been shocked, revolted and scared. But I was none of that.
I was intrigued.
I was interested.
I was...excited.
You scare me sometimes, Sam, came Allison’s words. I mean, really scare me sometimes.
I scare myself, too.
“Oh my God,” said Mary Lou. “You two are so rude. I’m right here, you know.”
“We’re not talking about you, Mary Lou,” I said.
“Well, then, how about talk to me? As in, include me in your conversation. It’s seriously rude to think behind someone’s back. Or whatever. You know what I mean!”
I looked at Allison and she looked at me and we both snorted.
“It’s not funny, you guys,” said Mary Lou, slowing down. As she slowed down, her massively heaving chest slowed down, too. And so did the bouncing eyeballs of any and all guys that we passed. “It’s rude to us immortals.”
“Mortals,” I corrected, and did all I could to stifle a giggle. I heard Allison giggling in my head. “I’m immortal. You’re mortal.”
“Well, whatever. You’re still my sister and you’re still being rude.”
“You’re right,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“I mean, I’ve gone through just as much shit as you guys. Maybe more so. I think I deserve, at this point, to be let in on all your secrets.”
“Some of our secrets,” I said. “Trust me, there are some things you don’t want to know.”
“Well, let me be the judge of that.”
I shook my head as we continued to jog. Yes, Mary Lou had had a rough time a few months ago, of that there was no doubt. She’d been kidnapped by Rachel Hanner, a homicidal vampire who happened to be a Fullerton PD homicide cop—a vampire who had been my one-time friend. Although Mary Lou had been threatened, and Fang had held a knife to her throat, she hadn’t been hurt. Still, I could only imagine her fear when she’d been attacked and taken hostage. Yes, it had been a bad day for my sister. But that didn’t mean she should know every deep, dark secret that I had.