Hi, all!

Sometimes, things get hard and you have to make changes is all. And the hardest things to change are the ones that require you to go from the

Inside Out

The long drive back to the rental company was quiet, save for the classical music playing on the radio. Jenny would hum along sometimes, which was a bit unnerving because it came out of the car speakers. Once Ingrid turned the vehicle back in, she crossed the street to a local hotel and let out a sigh of relief when the cool air of the lobby kissed her skin. It was now dark outside, and the air had felt like it was trying to smother her with heat and humidity.

The hotel had a bistro off the lobby. Ingrid briefly contemplated dropping Jenny off in the room and coming back down for a bite to eat, or perhaps to sit around in the hopes that a hot stranger might chat her up. However, she caught her reflection in the polished chrome of the elevator doors and immediately ditched that plan. Her hair was a sweaty mess, and she had pit stains on her shirt.

That, and nobody wants to fuck you, Jenny added.

"Don't be a cunt about it," Ingrid replied out loud, causing an older woman with cotton-white hair standing nearby to let out an indignant squeak.

Now there's someone who needs to get laid. Jenny cackled maniacally. It would be like fucking a sandy Q-tip.

"Shush," Ingrid whispered, then jammed her finger against the Up button. "And stop being rude to strangers."

No. The door of the elevator opened and Ingrid got on. Just as the doors began to close, a young woman with a stroller rushed to get on, but all the lights started flashing as if the elevator had malfunctioned.

"Um, we'll wait," the woman said, backing away from the door. Once it shut, Ingrid opened her bag and pulled Jenny out.

"That wasn't nice, either," Ingrid said. "And why be mean to her? I thought you liked kids."

Kids, yes. Babies, no. They drool on me.

"You've got psychokinetic powers and can't just push it away?" Ingrid stared the doll in the eyes. "I don't believe you."

The lights in the elevator flickered menacingly, but Ingrid maintained eye contact. Eventually, the doors opened, revealing the long hallway that would take her to the small, shitty room at the back. It wasn't until they were inside again that Jenny spoke.

It scares them, she said.

"Scares who? Babies?" Ingrid set Jenny down on the chair by the bed and did a quick sweep of the room to make sure it hadn't been disturbed in her absence. It's not that she expected an ambush. Ingrid was relying heavily on her former training. Someone had sent a demon for her after all.

Babies are very sensitive to everything, Jenny said. They can sense that my powers are...unnatural.

"And? If you don't like them, then why do you care that they're sensitive to your powers?" Satisfied that the room was clean of interference, Ingrid sat on the bed and looked at the doll. "You don't strike me as someone who gives a shit about anything."

The phone attached to the wall ripped itself free and was thrown across the room. Ingrid shifted back about a foot so that it whizzed past her face.

"See? This is a perfect example. We're having a conversation and you just shut down."

I do care. Jenny's voice was quiet, but sounded angry. I have never once hurt a child.

"So you do have a line." Ingrid leaned forward with interest. "Is it because you're trapped in a child's toy?"

I'm not technically trapped anymore.

"So why stay? Why not wander off and do...well, whatever the hell you want?"

The doll was quiet for a moment, and Ingrid wondered if the conversation had ended. She stood to pick Jenny up, then flinched when the spirit spoke just as they touched.

I want my own body, she said. I want to live again, and die like I should have. In the moment, Jenny no longer sounded like the barely restrained psychopath she usually did. This was Janey, the version Ingrid had met on the oil rig.

"I guess you want to be an official Radley."

Yessssss. Jenny stretched the word out like a snake might.

"Is that why you're nice to babies, then? Because you're trying to show them you can behave?"

"I love children." The temperature in the room dropped, and Janey appeared, hugging herself in the corner of the room. "They remind me of my sisters and brothers."

"You had siblings?"

Janey nodded. "I don't remember their names anymore. They died a long time ago."

"I know what that's like." Ingrid thought back to her own sibling, Ricky. "My family died in a plane crash. I had a brother."

Janey flickered. It's not a competition.

"I know that. I'm not trying to compete, I just...identify with what you're going through. You know, empathy and all that shit." Ingrid sighed as the mattress beneath her shook. "Look, I'm trying to be better, okay?"

The mattress stopped bouncing, and the spirit stared at her. Well, maybe she did. Janey's hair covered her face. If not for the ghost's knees, Ingrid would have no idea what direction she was even facing. But this definitely wasn't the typical Jenny she usually saw or heard from.

I miss Grace, was what Janey finally said.

"What's she like?" Ingrid asked. In response, the door rattled as if someone was trying to force their way in. "Hey, you brought her up. I retract my question."

The spirit flickered like an old television. That's not me, she said, then disappeared. Ingrid leapt to her feet and snapped a wand out just as the door ripped free of the lock to reveal a figure in black. From head to toe, every inch of the creature's body was covered.

Ingrid sent out a wave of force intended to push the intruder back. The figure froze in place, straining against the spell. Ingrid grunted as she poured more of her willpower into the wand, then let out a gasp when the doorframe itself buckled outward.

Demon, Jenny declared.

"Help me, then!"

Can't against demons.

"Fuck me." Ingrid grabbed Jenny and moved back toward the closet while the figure in black pursued, its limbs stretching like taffy as it reached for her.

The closet could only hold a robe and a few suit jackets. However, it was big enough for a portal, which Ingrid stepped through. She lashed out with her foot and snapped the structural support just as the arms reached through and seized her by the neck. Supernatural strength surged through those hands as she was strangled, but the portal finally collapsed with a loud bang, which severed the demon's arms.

Down by her feet, a trio of rats scurried about in a panic as Ingrid fought the arms and eventually burned them with some holy water from her pocket. Gasping, she looked around and saw that Jenny was on the floor.

"Sorry I dropped you," she rasped, then picked up the doll and stepped through the next portal. The rats ran ahead of her as she kicked out the emergency closure device and looked back to see the limbs flopping on the floor as they slowly grew back into a pale, white torso. The demon was transporting its severed mass across the world to rebuild itself.

"What in the actual Hell?" Ingrid took a step back as the portal collapsed, causing her ears to pop. Frowning, she looked down at the rats. "Did you see that thing around my room?"

Two of the rodents ignored her, but the third stood and shook its head side to side.

"How did that thing find me?" she wondered out loud. Ingrid looked down at the doll in her hand. "And how come you can't fight demons?"

Don't want their attention, Jenny replied.

"Good to know." Ingrid saw that the rats were motioning to her from the corner of the room. An additional portal awaited. Ingrid and Jenny stepped through and found themselves in the Library.

Letting out a long sigh, she scanned the lobby. Platforms zoomed up above and a squad of rats were busy running around the main entryway. Tink was sitting behind the information desk and wearing a top hat.

"Tink help check in books!" she shouted, then picked up a stamp and slammed it against the inside cover of a book in front of her. "Make good time, get pretty island girl caught up!" She shoved the book off the counter where a pair of rats caught it and scurried off. The goblin looked up at Ingrid and grinded. "Pretty mage has late fees. Rub Tink's feet."

"She's not rubbing your feet." Kisa, who had been sitting nearby on the desk, appeared as she dropped her natural invisibility. "Quit trying to get people and rats to rub your feet."

"Tink miss husband." The goblin pouted. "Husband rub Tink's feet."

"I rubbed your feet an hour ago, you pest." Kisa swatted the hat off of Tink's head, then turned her attention to Ingrid. "Don't mind us. She's just trying to keep busy."

"I just got attacked by a demon," Ingrid said. "In Texas."

"YES!" Tink picked up her crossbow and tried to slide out of her chair. "Tink shoot demon in stupid fucking face!"

"Nope!" Kisa snatched the crossbow away from her. "Did the demon follow you here?"

Ingrid shook her head. "No, the portal airlocks did their job. But Eulalie needs to know that we were compromised somehow."

"Fuck." Tink slumped in her chair. "Tink bored."

"Then go read a book. You don't have to be physically doing something all the damned time." Kisa slid off the desk and set the crossbow out of reach. "Are you hurt?"

Ingrid shook her head and held up Jenny. "We're both fine. I didn't get a good enough look at the demon, though. It was wearing all black. The demon tried to grab me through a portal and lost its arms."

"Demons are demons." Kisa shrugged. "I'm guessing the person who sent the Glutton sent this one as well."

"But how did they find us so fast?"

"Bad magic," Tink said, her voice muffled. The goblin was reclined in her chair and had covered her face with the top hat. Ingrid heard her blow a raspberry inside of it. "Pretty mage being tracked."

Kisa frowned. "That means that whoever sent the first demon knows that it failed. The second one ambushed you in your room?"

"Yeah. At the hotel." Ingrid moved toward the hallway that went to the rooms. "If you can let Eulalie know, I need to go take a shower and get a bite to eat."

"This is the place for it." Kisa looked at a pair of empty platters on the information desk. "Though we're more like a restaurant than a Library these days."

Tink belched inside of her top hat and quickly moved it onto the desk, trapping the fumes inside. "Tink make trap," she declared.

Kisa gave the goblin a dirty look. "That's nasty."

"Yep." Tink looked at the hat, then up at Ingrid. "Pretty mage want hat?"

"No thanks." Ingrid snorted as she walked away. It wasn't until she was in her room that she realized that Jenny was still in her arms. Or Janey. Whoever.

Ingrid set the doll on the table by the bed and shed her shirt and pants. "So do you think a witch sent that demon after me?"

Probably. Jenny giggled. I can take apart a witch like a rotisserie chicken.

"If we come across this bitch, you don't just have my permission, but also my blessing." Ingrid was down to her underwear now as she walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

I don't need your permission! When Jenny shouted, the steam coming out of the shower briefly disappeared.

"Stop being the grouch, you'll use up all the hot water." In truth, Ingrid wondered if the hot water was also stolen. Was there some poor bastard in the world wondering why their shower was no longer hot?

Or maybe the correct word was borrowed, she pondered. After all, you borrowed things from the Library. Maybe it was just borrowing things from everywhere else.

The shower helped her mood immensely. She laid down in bed to stretch out and relax for a bit, but exhaustion claimed her instead, and she sank into a blissful slumber.

The first hour alone in the witch's office felt like an entire lifetime to Dana. Unable to move, she wasn't sure if it would be better to look around and try to find something to watch, or if closing her eyes and limiting input would make the time go faster.

At some point, she realized that she could hear a ticking clock somewhere in the house. If her head had been attached to her body, she would have sighed with relief. The most important thing for long nights spent all by herself was to find something to keep her brain occupied. Left alone with her own thoughts was always a bad idea, and time would stretch like a piece of taffy in one of those fancy machines inside the candy store.

She had seen nine of those since dying. Replaying her memories, all of them had been spotted out of the corner of her eye, most of them while hunting down SoS members. Traveling across the globe took them to more than a few tourist destinations, and salt water taffy was sold almost everywhere, especially near the ocean.

Dana started counting the distant ticks of the clock, picturing the numbers in her head. Between ticks, she tried to fill in the blanks in her memory, and was rewarded with intense visuals of electrodes being jammed into her head. The witch had made her laugh, cry hysterically, and even made her climax by accident while adjusting a probe. Having a massive orgasm without a body was sort of like having a sneeze disappear right before doing it.

With each tick of the clock, Dana was no closer to figuring out a way to get out of this mess. At 5000 ticks, she felt the inkling of hunger, but it was a strange, muted sensation. She wanted to eat, but had no stomach.

Around 8000 ticks, she experienced a phantom itch where her left breast would have been. The itch moved across her torso in slow motion like a crawling insect, then disappeared around 8400 ticks.

At 13000 ticks, she was openly salivating, hungry from her body's failed attempts to regenerate. Where was her body, anyway? Was it behind her? Stored in jars somewhere else? If she was left this way for too long, would she just become a head?

Maybe Suly would wear her around as a spare.

At tick 13763, she felt that phantom itch again. Her eyelid twitched as she willed the itch to vanish, then tried to scratch it with hands that were no longer attached.

Somewhere else in the house, she actually felt her fingertips move. Curious, she focused on that sensation, closing her eyes and trying to move her hands. Whether this was a delusion or some innate ability she was experiencing for the first time, it was at least something to do.

Even chasing delusions was better than slowly going mad in a witch's study. Dana gritted her teeth and flexed her hands, trying to move one finger at a time. After a while, she was able to feel her feet, too. They were kept in a similar location to her hands. If the weird itch on her tit was any indication, her whole body was in a semi-circle one floor down from where her head was.

While stretching her fingers, she was able to twist her left hand about and discover the clamps holding it in place. That made sense if she was being studied. You just didn't toss zombie body parts on a table somewhere if you wanted to study them.

The situation was bad, but this was worlds better than having her limbs tossed into an incinerator. It also begged the question how such a mechanism worked, but she would worry about that later.

At 20,430 ticks, she heard the window click open followed by a loud whoosh of air as the witch returned. The woman casually hopped off her broomstick and pointed to a corner of the room.

"Sit," she commanded, and the broom obeyed. The witch pulled a satchel over her head and set it on a nearby seat, then paused when she saw Dana. "The gray matter still functioning?"

Dana blinked once, then scowled.

"Lovely. I don't often get the opportunity for such a rapt audience. Most of the creatures in my collection are...sub-sapient." The witch frowned. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to make some tea. Would you care for some?"

Dana blinked twice.

"Good. 'Cause you weren't getting any." The witch smirked and stepped out of the room. A few minutes passed and she came back with a cup of tea in one hand and a tablet in the other. "So this has been an unusually interesting week, and I would love to hear your thoughts on the matter."

When Dana rolled her eyes, the witch continued. "So earlier this week, some absolute cunt crushes the only basilisk eggs in my possession, potentially the last ones on Earth." The woman shook her head and sipped at her tea, then made a face. "Needs honey."

She made a twisting motion with her hand, and a small honey pot floated over to her and poured a dab into her mug.

"Where was I? Ah, right. Basilisk eggs." The witch sat across from Dana and studied her. "Now, I tell myself this is what I get for loaning out my basilisks to the auction. If you can't afford to lose a part of your collection, don't loan it out. It's the first rule, really. Do you collect anything, child?"

Dana tried to spit, but her mouth was too dry.

"So uncivilized." The witch grinned. "Now, something of this magnitude would typically be the highlight of my year. Or lowlight, however you wish to define it. I sent a demon after the bitch who broke my eggs, and was very surprised to learn through a little basic divination that my demon had failed. They don't usually do that. So I try to summon the little beasty back, and can't get a hold of it. That means it's been sent back to Hell.

"Then there's the fact that someone breaks into my home, a werewolf and a zombie. I can't help but wonder if these two things are related. A break in at the data center and my house? So bizarre. Especially when I recognized you from the oil rig."

Dana kept her face expressionless, but the witch saw right through it.

"Don't bother denying it, child. I was on that rig and you saw me. Such pretty things on an oil rig is an unusual sight, but I was in a hurry so didn't waste my time. If I had known about your condition, well...it would have been worth a small detour." The witch stirred her tea absent-mindedly and stared into the air, clearly lost in thought. "Where was I?"

Dana waited. Other than making faces, it was all she had.

"Oh, right. A werewolf and a zombie try to rob me, probably tried to steal my auction prize before I could retrieve it, and some bitch cracks my eggs. There are no coincidences, child. That's something you should learn if you hope to live as long as I do. So when a demon breaks into one of my buildings, I go personally."

The witch leaned over and held up her tablet. It was a video clip of a stairwell, and Lily had shoved her head between the metal railing and was frantically fucking herself with her tail. "Now this is a very unusual sight. A succubus may be the personification of lust, but they don't typically do something like this unless they're trying to attract prey. So either I've got a simple-minded demon trapped in my satchel, or I have something different."

The witch's eyes lit up and she grinned to herself, then took a sip of her tea. "So what is it, zombie? Daft or delightful? I have a feeling that all these events are related."

Dana made sure not to blink, to not give the witch the satisfaction of conversing with her in any manner.

The witch pulled a snowglobe out of her satchel and held it up. Inside was a small office building. She gave it a little shake and watched the snowflakes spin.

"What I find particularly interesting is that the trap itself triggered for both a demon and a mortal," she said. "Yet I only sense one entity inside. Isn't that interesting?"

No, Dana blinked.

"Oh, of course not. I should just toss this in with the others." The witch cackled and set the snowglobe on a nearby table. "That's a puzzle for another day. Whether all these things are connected will come out eventually. For now, let's talk about what I'm going to do with you. You aren't just some automaton, nor a homunculus made out of flesh. Even now, I can sense your soul, stretched thin as it may be."

The witch leaned in close and sniffed. "There's something else, too. You smell of damp earth and...frost. Petrichor?" The woman inhaled deeply, then nodded. "Carrion. What have you been eating?"

She said nothing for several minutes as she quietly sipped her tea and watched the full video clip of Lily. There wasn't any sound, but Dana recognized the demon's orgasm face.

"Interesting." The witch sighed and leaned back in her seat. "A succubus without their master. I can only assume she was sent to do their dirty work. Welp. No time like the present."

She stood from her seat and grabbed Dana by the hair. The zombie experienced brutal vertigo as her head swung back and forth in time with the woman's gait. They descended a spiral staircase and came out in a room that looked like a fancy laboratory.

Strapped to a surgical table was Dana's torso. One arm and one leg were in liquid-filled tubes while the other limbs had been partially dissected on a large metal screed. Dana noticed that what she had thought was a clamp on her wrist was essentially a needle the size of a chopstick pinning her wrist in place while others held her flesh open to reveal the tendons inside.

"You really are an impressive specimen," the witch said as she set Dana's head on a table. "If you weren't intelligent, I could spend all week figuring out what makes you tick. Here, look at this." She picked up a small metal rod and poked Dana's hand. The hand flinched. "Whatever magic sustains you isn't limited to the core of your body. It's like every cell contains its own power."

Good for me, Dana thought.

"Also, I find this part really fascinating. If you look here, you can actually see the tendrils of your soul connecting your head to your torso." The witch pointed at something that Dana was unable to see. "Did you know scientists used to argue about where the soul resides? Is it the head, the heart? If you cut off somebody's arm, does your soul still have an arm, etc. etc." The woman put on a pair of thick gloves and adjusted them. "They have good ideas from time to time, but matters of the soul aren't always so...three dimensional. In your case, it's been spread across your entire body like a big glob of butter. That's what really fascinates me. Souls can't be created from nothing, you see, and magic that manipulates them directly is extremely rare. I would kill to get my hands on someone who could do it for me. There's an old project of mine that I would simply love to saddle with the burden of the afterlife."

The witch produced a surgical needle along with some thread. She moved to Dana's nude torso and studied it for a moment.

"Damn," she muttered, then flicked something off of Dana's stomach and stomped on it. "Spider got in somehow. Excuse me, I need to redo my wards before I end up with a pest issue. Spiders are a bit more complex than other insects, you see. Flies are easy, you just have to convince that little nerve cluster that there's better shit to eat somewhere else. Spiders though, they're a lot like cats. Wards that are supposed to spook them off come across as mere suggestions. I tried setting up a spell that vaporized the little shits, and all it did was draw in more spiders to see what the fuss was about. There was a man I knew once upon a time that absolutely terrified spiders. When he entered a building, you'd watch them actively flee. Maybe they knew his blood was poison, or recognized him as a true apex predator, I never could be sure. Despite my best efforts, spiders never deigned to speak with me, and making them smart enough to do so just results in a lot of back talk."

The witch took off her gloves again and left. While she was gone, Dana stared at her body for a few minutes, then closed her eyes and concentrated. It took a bit, but she was able to once again dimly feel where her body was.

The witch had said that her soul was connecting all the pieces of her together. Was that how she had felt her body from a distance earlier? Dana opened her eyes and thought on the witch's words.

Scientists were stuck thinking in three-dimensional terms, and so was Dana. Did souls even recognize distance? From her soul's perspective, had she even been dismembered?

Focusing on this idea, Dana tried to move her body again. While she was looking, it was almost impossible. But if she closed her eyes and tried to feel the connection instead of just seeing it, that yielded far better results.

As long as her body was intact, she could use this to escape somehow. She just needed to think outside the box. Dana studied how her body was arranged. The arm and the leg inside the tubes were a lost cause. The whole setup required the preservative liquid to be drained, and there was a pressurized seal that could only be opened from the outside. All she really needed was an arm, preferably reattached to her body.

The witch came back as Dana schemed.

"There," she said, sliding her gloves back on. The witch picked up Dana's head and walked over to her torso. "Old world magic really does work better. I contracted a demon to eat all the bugs around here once, and learned a very valuable lesson from it. The contract stated that the demon would consume them, but I never verified that it would actually digest them. Little fucker disappeared in my living room after fifty years of service and I got five decades worth of masticated insects and rats dumped in the middle of the floor. Had to rip out the floor boards and everything. I tracked that little monster down again and contractually bound him to a hundred years of servitude inside the holding tank of a concert festival outhouse. I think most people call them a...porta-potty? It's amazing how many words people have for toilets these days. Anyway, one of my contacts in the US makes sure it stays in rotation, especially in hot places that serve a lot of greasy food."

The needle and thread moved on its own, connecting muscles and veins back together. The witch paused more than once to study her handiwork.

"Interesting. The blood vessels seek themselves out. Let's see if I can get them to connect to something that isn't their counterpart."

Dana coughed and gurgled as fingers messed with the interior of her throat. The witch did something with the needle and thread inside her neck and took a step back.

"Oh, now that's nice. I stitched your carotid artery to an outgoing vein, and now it's ripping itself apart in order to connect itself to the proper location. Whoever created you was an artist. They really thought of everything."

Dana scowled at the woman, but her anger went unnoticed.

"So we've got regeneration on a cellular level, but it's incomplete based on the scarring on your epidermis. You don't really have scar tissue on the inside. Maybe that's a blood flow issue? Oh, the questions I have. Is your creator still around? I would love to pick their brain, figuratively speaking. If they're recently deceased, I could do it literally. I have a refrigerated room here full of some of the most amazing brains, actually. There's one in particular that I'm hoping to complete someday, but it was cut into over 200 pieces and I fear there's a quality issue between the pieces I have and the ones being kept in museums."

The witch took a step back to study her handiwork. Over her shoulders, Dana noticed a collection of glass cages along the back wall. In all of them, rodents were busy going mad and trying to escape.

"What are you looking...oh! Yes, one of the first things I did was feed a bit of your flesh to each of them. One got an injection of blood, which turned it so violent that it ate its own feet. Your condition is quite contagious." The witch turned to watch the rodents. "They don't share your regenerative properties, which is a shame. They're all bound for the incinerator in a day or so. I can't risk them getting out. Those cages have been magically sealed so not even air can get in. I wonder if I could encase one in resin and use it as a paper weight?" The woman chuckled. "Bad decisions like that is how disaster movies start, right? Hubris makes for...oh drat. Would you look at the time? My servant will have breakfast ready for me. I'll be back in a few minutes."

The gloves came off once again, and Dana watched the woman go. She closed her eyes and felt the stitched muscles and bones fully connect between her head and torso. The witch hadn't stitched enough muscle together for her head to remain upright, so she just stared at the floor.

It was far longer than a few minutes, but Dana didn't mind too much. During the wait, her hyper fixation on trying to feel her body allowed her to actually feel the extremely slow beat of her own heart. If her timing was right, it was beating once every five to six minutes. Despite being all chopped up, her torso still had plenty of magical energy, which meant--

"That took longer than expected," the witch said as she entered the laboratory. "The second demon I sent after the bitch who broke my eggs returned to inform me that she took a magical portal to escape. Can you believe that? Magical portals are extremely rare, especially ones that can be configured for different places. The Fae use them sometimes, but they pretty much do what they want, little chaos gremlins that they are. I can make one, but it takes hours to do and isn't worth the time or resources. They're too easy to disrupt, and I've seen a witch or two get turned inside out passing through them. Far prefer the broom. Many years ago, I was actually trying to get a colony of magical rats to make them for me, but I didn't see eye-to-eye with their monarchy. Neither bribery nor blackmail worked. Their king refused to take orders or follow directions from a woman. I've seen a lot of things, but misogyny in rodents takes the...oh, right, I'm being quite rude."

Dana's head was yanked up so that she could see the witch had changed clothes and maybe even taken a shower. The hint of sulfur clung to the woman's skin, and when Dana's nostrils flared to pull in her scent, she got a combination of vanilla cookies and cloves. She was wearing her thick, rubber gloves again.

"I don't suppose you can speak yet?" The witch flicked Dana in the throat. "Hmm. It would seem that only part of your trachea has reattached itself. You're unable to properly pull in or distribute air through your vocal cords. Let me see if I can fix that."

The witch held Dana's head back as the needle and thread did its work. Eventually, a proper amount of air flowed through Dana's throat as she took a deep breath in with her lungs. Before she could cough up all the fluid that had accumulated there, a motorcycle helmet was slapped over her head.

"Just in case you were planning to spit your contaminated fluids all over me." The witch flipped open Dana's visor so that she could see better. "Unless you can shoot blood out of your eyes, that is. Can you shoot blood out of your eyes?"

Dana tried to shoot blood out of her eyes, just in case. She shook her head and let out a grunt of frustration.

"Oh, c'mon, be a big girl, use your words." The witch took a step back and picked up a large knife from a surgical tray that had been outside of Dana's field of view.

"What are you going to do? Stab me?" Dana spoke loudly to be heard through the helmet.

"Yes, actually. I want to check the contents of your stomach. Clearly your body is subsisting off of something you ate recently, and I want to know what it is." The witch spun the knife in her fingers casually, like a student flipping a pencil. "I would be rather disappointed to discover something so banal as human flesh, and you have failed to disappoint me yet."

Dana grunted as the wind was forced from her lungs when the knife penetrated her belly. There was an uncomfortable pressure for several seconds before the witch pulled and lifted Dana's stomach out.

"Very interesting," she declared as she set the organ on a nearby scale to weigh it. Turning back toward Dana, she tapped the tip of the knife on the edge of the table. "While I'm in there, may as well see how the rest of you works."

Dana didn't bother screaming. It's not like she was in pain, or even truly afraid. Already, her emotions were becoming muddy as the magic drained out of her.

Besides, the witch wouldn't have cared, anyway.

Ingrid was in the middle of an incredibly vivid sex dream when she felt someone jab her in the shoulder with what felt like a knife. She opened her eyes to see a shadow looming over her bed, the dim light unable to properly reveal whoever had come into her room. She had fallen asleep on top of her covers with just a bathrobe for warmth, her hair still partially wrapped in a towel.

"Hey!" The object that had poked her was, in fact, the tip of a massive spider leg. Eulalie was standing over Ingrid's bed, her legs splayed wide as she jabbed the mage repeatedly. "Wake up!"

Ingrid's stomach jumped into her throat as she attempted to squirm out from beneath the Arachne. While she had managed to come to terms with who and what Eulalie was, the girl still had a massive spider body that absolutely freaked her out.

"What's wrong?" Ingrid asked as the towel slipped from her head. She pulled it over her face for a moment, shutting out the sight of all those legs.

"It's the others," Eulalie replied. "They're missing!"

"What now?" Ingrid yawned and turned sideways, hoping that she wasn't about to ram her knee into one of Eulalie's other legs. Her brain slowly processed what Eulalie had just told her. "And how do you know that they're missing?"

"They haven't checked in," Eulalie replied. "It's been several hours since I heard from any of them!"

"Lights," Ingrid said, speaking to the room itself. Understanding her intent, the dim lights brightened, allowing Ingrid to properly see. On her nightstand, Jenny was silent with a washrag wrapped around her own head as if mocking Ingrid. "Some partner you are."

The spirit didn't respond. Ingrid turned her attention to Eulalie, who was busy fidgeting nearby.

"We had protocols," Eulalie said. "For checking in. Not hearing from one of them is bad, but all three?"

"Did they meet up?" Ingrid asked.

"No! That's why I'm worried."

Ingrid thought back to the demon that had ambushed her. What if she hadn't been the only target? It was her assumption that a demon was after her, but maybe it was the entire group. Tasia and Dana should be able to handle most demons on their own, and Lily, well...

She doubted there was a demon on Earth who could hurt Lily. "Where were they last seen?" Ingrid asked as she moved to the dresser where she had put her clothes.

"Lily is in the Cayman Islands and the girls are in Kensington."

"Technically they're all girls," Ingrid mumbled.

"Yes, you're very clever. Shut up." Eulalie pulled at her hair in frustration. "I just know something happened to them. I've been checking traffic cameras for an hour. They all made it to their destinations, but they never left."

"Do you think they got ambushed like I did?"

"They must have. I have Aurora pulling reference materials on demons right now."

"Okay, that's a good start. What about the Radleys? Can they send somebody to assist?"

Eulalie shook her head. "They're still on lockdown. We've seen multiple signs of the Fae here in the Library, so we can't open a portal or bookshelf to get there."

"How does one open a bookshelf?"

Eulalie stood up a little bit straighter and fidgeted with her hair. "Technically, you get teleported here by a magic book, but we don't want the Fae trying to use that either. The geas protecting the Radley house might not function if they're allowed to utilize a doorway that a Caretaker himself established. We can't risk it."

"Can't you just kick them out of the Library?" asked Ingrid.

"I don't think so," Eulalie replied. "If the Head Librarian's magical staff does that kind of thing, it's beyond me."

She's just mad that you interrupted her dream, Jenny added. Don't mind her.

"You were not watching my dreams," Ingrid replied, the color draining from her face.

You were leaning over a headstone having your back blown out by--

Ingrid threw her towel over Jenny, knowing full well it wouldn't silence her. However, it did cause the doll to cackle. Having Lily in her head had been bad enough, but at least the succubus had hooked her up. How much had the spirit seen? She could feel her cheeks burning at the idea that Jenny now knew that she was crushing a bit on Mike.

"Okay, so you're sending me out. Where do I go first?"

Eulalie pouted. "Um...I don't know."

"I'll go to the Cayman location first. Lily is probably hanging out on the beach and avoiding your calls."

"She wouldn't do that," Eulalie said. "Not to me."

Ingrid shrugged. "It would be nice to assume that she wouldn't, but Lily is a succubus. Demons do what demons are going to do. Unless Mike told her to obey--"

"He never does," Eulalie said. "Lily is free to make her own choices."

"And you don't think she chose a mini-vacation?" Ingrid dug through her dresser and found a pair of shorts and a lightweight top. After how hot Texas was, she didn't need to sweat through her clothes again.

"You don't know her like I do," Eulalie replied.

"I feel like I know her enough." Ingrid tossed her robe aside and got dressed with her back to the Arachne. "I bet she's just hanging in a lounge chair by the sea, sipping on some poor bastard's soul that--"

Sensing danger, Ingrid turned to see that Eulalie was standing only inches away, her eyes open wide with anger. Gone was any nervousness from before.

"She's crass, rude, and often irritating," Eulalie said. "Lily's personality is like a mask, and until you've actually seen what she hides underneath it, you don't get to make assumptions about the person she is."

Ingrid took a deep breath to collect her thoughts before speaking. She hadn't meant to upset the Arachne. "You have to understand my position, though. In the last year, I have had absolutely everything I know and believe turned upside down on its head. A year ago, I would have blasted you with a fireball and not thought twice about the kind of person I was killing. Hell, I wouldn't even have considered you a person. I am still busy adjusting to a new mindset in a world that doesn't seem to have a place for me. So if I have some misgivings over a woman who deliberately went out of her way to antagonize me on multiple occasions recently, you can't just tell me she's different and expect me to trust your word on the matter."

"Have I ever given you cause to doubt my word?" Eulalie asked.

"No," Ingrid admitted. "But I barely know you. After spending most of my life with the Order and trusting what they told me, I've learned that trust can be meaningless. I need to form my own opinions and doubt those who tell me what they should be."

The Arachne's features softened and her abdomen lowered to the floor as Eulalie relaxed her legs. "Your argument is valid. I apologize if I intimidated you."

"Um...apology accepted." Ingrid was a little shocked by the sudden shift in mood. She had expected this to become an argument.

Now kiss, Jenny added.

"No," said Ingrid and Eulalie at the same time.

I'm so bored. The doll started rocking. Less talking, more killing.

"Is that the outfit you want to wear to the Cayman Isles?" asked Ingrid, who let out a laugh. "Holy shit, this is my life now, isn't it? I'm playing dress-up with my haunted dolly before going on away missions."

When Jenny failed to provide an answer, Ingrid picked the doll up and stuffed her in the bag, then turned to Eulalie. "Do you have a portal ready for me?"

"I do," she replied. "I can have an Uber or whatever pick you up and take you to the office complex. But I want you to stay in constant contact with me." Eulalie pulled earbuds out of her pocket. "So no turning off your cellphone."

"Even to pee?" Ingrid took the earbuds and put them in.

"I want to hear it hit the bowl."

The mage snorted and gestured toward the door. "Lead the way."

She followed Eulalie to the lobby where a pair of rats were busy cleaning Tink's mess off of the Information Desk. The rats paused what they were doing to watch Eulalie and Ingrid get on a floating platform. As it lifted into the air, Ingrid watched with some amusement as the top hat sitting on the desk was picked up. Both rats flinched and bolted for safety.

The platform carried them to a secluded doorway roughly a hundred feet above the main floor. Inside the room, a portal had been opened through which Ingrid could already smell the faint tang of salty air. She moved through the portal airlock and soon found herself in a crappy hotel room with the portal hidden inside of a closet, as usual. When she stepped out, there was a trio of rats on the bed waiting for her.

"I've definitely been to nicer places," she said.

"I rent them at random," Eulalie said in her ear. "To avoid establishing a pattern of luxury. Your driver should be outside in five minutes."

Ingrid stood outside for nearly fifteen minutes as Eulalie cancelled and rebooked another driver. Apparently even the Arachne couldn't account for a driver who just didn't give a shit.

A woman with a thick accent and dreadlocks picked Ingrid up in a grey sedan. The air conditioner made a whistling sound that seemed to resonate in the back of Ingrid's neck, and she almost had the woman drop her off early so that she could walk instead.

It was nearly twenty more minutes from Ingrid's hotel to the edge of the business district. She barely got to see the ocean, which was fine, since it was still a painful reminder of her family's doomed flight. It didn't really excite her like it did the succubus.

Lily. Ingrid tapped her fingers on the handle of the door while contemplating the demon and what Eulalie had said. Was her perception of Lily due to being stuck in her ways? Or was it something else entirely?

It's jealousy, Jenny whispered in her head.

"What?" The doll's comment caught her so off-guard that she responded out loud. The driver looked in the rearview mirror at Ingrid.

"I didn't say anything," said both the driver and Eulalie at the same time.

"My mistake." Ingrid put her face in her hands.

It's hard not being the prettiest girl at school, Jenny continued. Or the smartest, or the most popular. You're upset because you're the wallflower, the nobody, the ugly duckling, the--

Ingrid threw her bag onto the floor of the car and gave it a kick. The temperature in the cab dropped and the whole car shifted as if struck by a guest of wind. The driver swore under her breath as she attempted to regain control of the vehicle. "Sorry, so sorry," she said into the rearview, waving a hand. "I think we hit a pothole."

"It's fine," Ingrid replied, then nudged the bag with her toe before lowering her voice. "If it was a pothole, I can think of the perfect thing to fill it with."

The car lurched again, followed by the stereo turning on and the AC ran full blast. The driver scowled and swatted at the controls as the stations changed rapidly. After a few seconds, there was a burst of static followed by someone shouting the word BITCH.

"I, uh..." The driver cleared her throat. "This doesn't usually happen."

"Don't worry about it," Ingrid said. "Probably just a ghost in the machine."

"Huh?" The woman seemed confused, but Ingrid had already turned her attention back out the window. Jenny's words had actually stung, and it was more than a little embarrassing to acknowledge that the twisted spirit was correct on some level. Ingrid really was jealous of Lily, and Tasia, and Dana, hell, even Aurora.

Filled with more than a little self loathing, Ingrid didn't even realize when the car stopped. The driver cleared her throat again to get her attention.

"We're here," she said.

"Yeah, great. Thanks. Will tip in the app," she muttered and got out.

"How much am I tipping?" asked Eulalie.

"Don't care," Ingrid replied, nearly forgetting her bag in the cab. If Jenny got left behind, the ghost would probably crumple the car like a can or haunt the poor driver.

They were a couple of blocks away from Lily's last known location. Ingrid walked at an unhurried pace, hoping to maintain the illusion that she was just a regular tourist who had wandered too far from the beach. She took the long way, circling the area as if taking in the sights, versus walking straight to the office complex.

By the time she arrived, she had regained most of her composure from the car. She opened her bag and felt around inside to make sure that Jenny was sitting upright.

You kicked me.

"You were being a bitch."

"Huh?" asked Eulalie.

"Jenny." Ingrid pulled her phone out of her pocket so that people would assume that she was on a phone call.

"Okay, then. Looks like you're close to where Lily was going. Have you noticed anything yet?"

Ingrid shook her head, then remembered Eulalie couldn't see her. "Not yet. I'm almost...there."

She turned the corner and spotted her target. From the outside, there was nothing to be seen. The building was unmarked with no features that particularly stood out. It sort of blended into the background along with the other buildings. In fact, the building next door was far more interesting with a splash of green trim along the--

Ingrid narrowed her eyes. She walked by the structure and pretended to stare at her phone. With her eyes fighting the urge to look away from the building she studied the spell that had been laid on it.

The spell was recently cast, that much she could tell. Various scents assailed her, an olfactory onslaught meant to trigger sense memories, to distract her from her task: fresh baked bread, cookies, grass after it rains, barbecued meat assaulted her nose. That last one actually seemed to be carrying up from the direction of the beach, maybe there was a restaurant overlooking the water, and...

Ingrid blinked, then stuck her free hand in a pocket and pinched her thigh. Whoever had laid down this ward had done so in the last two days, maybe sooner. The fresh sting of reality warping magic was like a harsh chemical in her nose, like someone had recently scrubbed the walls with bleach.

"What's going on?" asked Eulalie. "You're humming."

"So I am," Ingrid muttered, unaware that she had been doing it. She looked around to make sure nobody was nearby. The few locals in the area were walking on the other side of the street. "Place is recently warded with a spell of distraction. They don't want anybody paying attention to this place."

"How recent?"

"Lily probably would have mentioned it," Ingrid said, unsure if that was actually true. "The spell is strong enough that I...um..." She had lost her train of thought. What had they been talking about?

She pinched her leg again, which snapped her thoughts back into focus. "Yeah, it's really that strong," she added.

"Understood," Eulalie said. "Can you get a look inside? If the situation is bad, we can send someone to help you."

Ingrid blanched, Jenny's words still on her mind. "Like who?" she asked.

"Uh..." There was a long pause. "Mercenaries, maybe."

"You think they'd be any good against magic?" Ingrid briefly wondered if she should get in touch with Alexandros. The man did have a private militia trained by the Fae themselves. However, calling in a favor would absolutely expose his side projects to the Order. Maybe she'd hold off on doing that unless Tasia was in serious danger.

"No," Eulalie admitted. "So it would be me."

Now that was an interesting thought. The Arachne could likely get in and out without being spotted, and take anybody down who got in her way. However, it would also risk revealing her existence, which could bite them in the ass big time. That was the high-risk option for sure.

"I can handle it," Ingrid replied, then put her cellphone in her bag and dug around for her wand. She felt a tiny pair of phantom teeth sink fangs into the flesh of her wrist, but did her best to ignore Jenny. The doll was clearly pissed at her.

The bag contained two wands, a rod, a piece of chalk and a water bottle full of holy water. Ingrid identified the force wand by feel and casually withdrew it, keeping it held casually by her wrist to obscure it from anyone who may be watching. She spun on her heels and looked around as if lost. The distraction spell was strong enough that she nearly missed the door of the office building, but she bit the tip of her tongue and pushed the front door open.

The marble lobby was so much colder than the outside world that goose pimples rose all along her arms. As she walked across the empty lobby toward the front desk, she heard someone muttering with a gruff voice.

"Fucking bitch got it all underneath the cabinets, too. Fuck." There was a rattling sound, like somebody kicking a metal cabinet. "Stupid fucking whore."

"Hello?" Ingrid held her bag in front of her stomach, allowing her to ready the wand behind it. "Is someone there? I'm a bit lost."

There was a faint buzzing sensation in the air that Ingrid recognized was a magic spell centered on the figure behind the counter. A man in a short-sleeved button down stood, his lips pressed together in disapproval.

"This is private property," he said in an accent-heavy voice that sounded nothing like what she had just heard. "I must ask you to leave."

"Oh, I plan on leaving," she said. "I just got turned around is all, and...hey, is that an espresso machine? Can I have some?"

The figure turned to look at the machine, allowing her to casually close the distance. By the time he returned his gaze, her wand was extended to cast. A bubble of pure force ripped through the air to hit the man in the chest.

Ingrid expected the man to go flying backward. Instead, the top part of his body stretched away from him like a large piece of taffy, then popped like a bubble. Through the shimmering motes of light, what she thought was a man nearly six feet tall was actually a four-and-a-half-foot tall gray-skinned figure with a wide set jaw and many teeth.

It was a goblin, or some variation of one. The two of them stared at each other in shock as the goblin frantically grabbed at an amulet on his chest. The moment he touched it, there was a ripple of light as the man from before re-appeared.

"Oh, no you don't," she said as she leapt over the counter. The man let out a cry of alarm and tried to run away, but tripped over a bucket full of soapy water and went slipping across the floor. Ingrid hopped back on top of the counter to avoid the soapy mess and watched as the illusory man pinwheeled his limbs in a rather cartoonish manner in order to escape.

"There's a goblin manning the front desk." Ingrid moved ahead of the goblin and fired her wand again, sending him sliding back the way he came and into a corner. "There was a woman in here yesterday with black and red hair. What happened to her?"

The illusion popped again when the goblin collided with the desk. He rubbed at his head and then bared his teeth.

"Fuck you, you fucking fuck."

Ingrid frowned and swapped the force wand out for the fire wand. She fired a warning shot, a tiny bolt of flame that singed the goblin's hair.

"Who else is here with you right now?"

The goblin pantomimed jerking off. Ingrid sighed and lit him on fire just a little bit. The creature shrieked and rolled around in the soapy water to extinguish the flames. After flopping about for a good minute, he went limp and stared at the ceiling, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

Ingrid regretted not bringing a wand with electrical capabilities. A few good shocks were usually enough to loosen the tongue.

"Well?" She crouched on the desk and pointed the wand at him. "Talk."

She received another lewd gesture. Rolling her eyes in frustration, she pulled Jenny out of the bag and tossed the doll to the goblin and turned to sit with her back to whatever happened next.

There was a series of shrieks, and the goblin was soon begging to answer her questions. Ingrid ignored the little bastard for about a minute before she turned around and saw that Jenny was sitting on the counter across from her. Down below, the goblin was covered in blood and what may have been coffee grounds. She tried not to think about it.

"All by myself," he shrieked. "All by myself!"

"And the woman from yesterday?"

The goblin made a face, his lower lip quivering. "Can't tell, will--"

Jenny hopped down and Ingrid looked away again. There was a series of thuds, followed by more shrieking.

"Big boss takes!" he finally screamed. "Big boss--"

There was a loud bang, and Ingrid's back was covered in something wet. Turning in horror, she discovered that the floor and her backside were covered in blood, bone bits, and gray matter.

"What the absolute fuck, Jenny!" She looked up at the doll, who was lying in a puddle of blood and soapy water.

Wasn't me, she replied. Pinky promise.

Frowning, Ingrid hopped into the mess and tried to avoid the sight of the dead goblin. Everything from his shoulders up was simply gone. On the goblin's chest lay the shattered amulet that had cloaked him in illusion. She picked up the doll and gave her a shake before tucking her into the messenger bag.

"We both need a shower," she said as she ran for the front door. Once outside, she heard a burst of static in her ears.

"Are you there, hello?" Eulalie sounded like she was in a complete panic.

"Yeah, we're here." It only now occurred to Ingrid that she hadn't heard anything from the Arachne after entering.

"What happened?"

"Hold on." Ingrid realized that people on the street were staring at her. "I'm covered in blood and need an escape plan. Ideas?"

"There are showers at the beach," Eulalie said. "If you can get rinsed off, I can get you a ride back to the hotel."

"Can you have it take us somewhere else?" Already, Ingrid was thinking of Texas. The demon had found her on the way back to her starting location. Going somewhere else may be a good idea, if she was being tracked. Especially if it was trying to avoid getting spotted in public.

"Consider it done. Now get a move-on, I'm already seeing chatter with the local authorities about a crazy woman covered in blood."

"Crap." Ingrid jogged down toward the beach, doing her best to ignore the wide-eyed stares of passersby. Inevitably, she did find beach access and a shower that rinsed off the worst of it. After giving herself and Jenny a good shower, she ran back up the road and only had to wait a minute before a bright white sedan pulled up.

"Your ride is there," said Eulalie.

When Ingrid got in, a black man with cornrows turned to frown at her.

"You're wet!"

"I got pushed into a pool," she said.

The man made a face as if trying to figure out how to tell her to get out.

"I tip very well," she added. "And it's just water."

The man shrugged, and turned his attention to the road. They were less than a minute out when Ingrid watched a pair of flashing lights going in the opposite direction to where she had been.

"Hopefully it'll take them too long to figure out where you went," said Eulalie. Ingrid could hear keys clacking frantically in the background. "You're about twelve minutes out from an AirBNB I rented. It's on a boat."

"You rented me a boat?"

"Boat house, technically. It's very nice."

Ingrid rolled her eyes, then saw the man watching her in the rearview. "It's my mom," she said. "You know how they can be."

The man chuckled and said something with his thick, Creole accent that she couldn't quite place. She just nodded and double-checked that Jenny was inside her bag.

"Do you have a flight home ready for me?" she asked Eulalie.

"In about twenty more minutes," the Arachne replied. "Rats are chewing as we speak."

She let out a sigh of relief. Sitting in a boat of all places and waiting for her portal already had her nerves pulled tight. By the time she got dropped off, it took everything she had not to run to the place that Eulalie had rented for her. Once inside, she promptly locked the door and found the small closet where she could hear rats chewing on it from the other side.

"Fucking hell," she muttered, and flopped on a nearby bed.

"So what happened?" Eulalie asked.

"Oh. Right." Ingrid gave the Arachne a quick rundown of the situation, which was severely lacking in details. They had no idea what had happened to Lily, other than that the big boss had taken her and saying so had promptly killed the goblin.

"Okay, okay," Eulalie muttered over the line. "I think we have to assume that the person we're dealing with is the witch from the oil rig. Ergo, the Collector."

Ingrid nodded. "I suppose that makes sense," she said. "But does that get us any closer to finding Lily?"

"Occam's Razor. All things being equal, the simplest solution is the best one. We'll find more information in Kensington."

"I need a shower first." Ingrid reached down her shirt and gave her bra a shake. "I've got goblin skull in my bra."

"I'll put together--" there was a loud burst of static in the earbuds, and the call abruptly ended.

"Hello? Eulalie?" Ingrid took out an earbud and examined it. "Did it die?"

Jenny didn't answer. The houseboat banged hard against the dock as if somebody had yanked on it.

Moving fast, Ingrid grabbed her bag and pulled out the chalk and the holy water. She took a mouthful of holy water and rapidly inscribed a protective sigil on the door. By the time she completed it, the sigil was already glowing with arcane energy as it tried to force away the demonic presence on the other side.

The demon had found her again, this time much faster than before. She took a step back from the door and jumped when she heard a window somewhere in the houseboat shatter. Looking around the corner, she watched as the entity poured itself through a porthole style window no more than a few inches wide.

The chalk went behind one ear as Ingrid sprayed the demon with holy water. She was very surprised when the thing didn't back down. Instead, it tried to shift around the water, as if aware she was dealing with a limited supply.

The mage tucked Jenny into the waistband of her shorts, then drew both wands and the rod. She cracked the rod like a glowstick, causing the magic to release all at once, then threw it at the shapeshifting demon.

Frost grew along the walls as ice magic escaped, encapsulating everything. The demon struggled to assume a humanoid shape as holy water froze against it, the malformed creature now stumbling around the room. A wave of force sent it crashing against a couch, which tipped over with the demon and broke apart.

Growling, the demon rose up, brittle ice snapping away from its flesh as its arms elongated and reached for Ingrid. She sprayed what was left of the holy water onto it, then used the force wand to get some more room. With the fire wand, she flash-boiled the holy water and filled the room with steam.

Shrieking in rage, the demon stumbled around blindly, unable to see as the holy-water steam promptly boiled away its eyes. Ingrid moved to the closet and squeezed inside, then used the chalk to inscribe another sigil on the door. She turned on the little LED light puck on the ceiling to see better.

This bought her nearly a minute as the demon eventually regrew its eyes and tried to sniff her out. Holy water rarely lasted long without a certified priest. It was like spraying bug spray on a wasp's nest. It would only piss them off in the long run, and Ingrid could hear the demon trashing the place as she crouched down to draw another sigil on the floor.

Behind her, the wall vibrated with the rhythm of teeth on metal. A dark liquid briefly seeped under the door, then recoiled when it came into contact with her sigil. How long had it been already? Would the rats make it to her before the demon did?

Breathing hard through her nostrils, Ingrid readied both wands. The whole point of holding holy water in her mouth was to trick the demon into thinking it was out. She could also swallow the water if the demon tried to possess her. If the demon found a way to break down the door, she could buy herself another minute, two if she was lucky.

The whole houseboat rocked violently. Startled, Ingrid actually inhaled some water and started coughing through her nose, desperate to hold that last little bit of water in her mouth. The boat rocked again, and she heard the sound of shrieking metal and something that cracked and splintered. There was an odd burbling sound, followed by the sight of water under her door.

Oh shit. The demon was sinking her boat!

She tried to reach for the handle of the door, and realized that the demon was likely waiting for this moment. Casting a quick look back, she could see the faint outline of a rat portal appearing in the wall behind her.

Something grabbed her foot. Ingrid looked down to see that the water under the door had washed away the chalk, and a scaly hand now clutched her ankle. Pain raced up her calf as the demon squeezed, so she spat the holy water out on the offending hand. The demon's claws flexed as the hand flattened and was yanked back out.

Knowing it was just a matter of time, Ingrid spread her hands and legs apart to wedge them against the walls and shimmy herself up and away from the floor. By the time the hand came back, there was almost an inch of water on the floor, and it was rising fast.

Tilting her body, she waited until the hand was almost to her leg before firing the force wand. The blast sprayed water everywhere, but also mangled the hand. The demon was working hard to slide beneath the quarter inch gap, but Ingrid fired the wand over and over again. Her stamina was rapidly failing, and the muscles of her limbs burned with exertion.

The houseboat tilted suddenly, and the water flow increased. Wondering how in the hell a demon had managed to sink the boat so fast, Ingrid started taking deep breaths in preparation for going under the water. If she didn't exert herself too much, she could make it around two minutes, three if she could hold perfectly still.

The closet door was starting to buckle from the weight of the water when the portal popped open behind her. Ingrid launched herself backward, clutching Jenny tight as she landed on her back.

"Close it!" she screamed as water followed her through. The rats, momentarily stunned by this development, were caught up in the water and swept away.

Ingrid fired both wands at the temporary wall. When it burst, she let out a gasp and just stared at the ceiling for a moment.

"Where are we?" she asked, noting the cool temperature.

"Souths of America," a wet rat replied, rubbing at its face.

"That's..." she bit back the sarcastic remark. "Good timing," she amended. "Demon almost got me. Are you all okay?"

A quartet of rats assembled, then checked each other over. Ingrid got to her feet and stumbled twice before standing fully. She made sure that Jenny was still with her before going through the next set of portals that would take her back to the Library.

Eulalie was waiting for her, mouth open in shock. She moved forward with uncanny speed and threw her arms around Ingrid in a bonecrushing embrace.

"I thought you were going to die," she said.

"Same," Ingrid muttered, then pushed Eulalie back and pulled Jenny out of the waistband of her pants. "Shower first, then Kensington."

Eulalie nodded. "I'll be ready when you are."

Ingrid let out a dry laugh. "I don't think I'll ever be ready," she said. "There's a demon after me, Eulalie. It found me again. This mission is already compromised."

The Arachne winced. "So tell me what to do."

"I wish I knew what that was." She studied the Arachne. They needed a plan, and she may have just come up with one. "Where's Aurora?"

"Running things in my absence."

Ingrid sighed. "Send her my way, please. We need to speak about our inventory."

"Okay." Eulalie hesitated, like she was going to say something, but couldn't find the words. Eventually, she spoke. "You'll still go, right?"

"Of course I'm going." It might be the death of her, but there was nobody else. Maybe she was shit at her job and possibly the worst person to do it, but it still needed to be done. She looked down at the doll and fought the temptation to give Jenny grief for being useless in a fight against demons.

After all, the person she was really the most mad at was herself.

The witch hummed quietly to herself as she pulled out Dana's organs one at a time to study them. She was meticulous in her methods, recording her findings on a phone and occasionally a notepad. The woman pulled over a dry erase board at some point and made notes in a language Dana didn't recognize.

She would occasionally ask questions. Sometimes it was about diet, other times exercise and bodily functions. Dana gave her whatever info she figured would be deduced anyway. She didn't want to draw the woman's ire. The only thing she kept to herself was personal things, like where she lived or who she worked for. The witch didn't argue with Dana whenever she clammed up, but that didn't make the zombie feel any better.

Truthfully, she felt very little right now. A gnawing void had formed in the pit of her stomach as her body desperately tried to repair the damage that was being done. For the hour her stomach had been outside her body, her own thoughts had become hazy as she gnashed her teeth futilely at the air.

"Fascinating," the witch had muttered. "Subject requires sustenance for higher level brain processes, which indicates that zombie-ism likely resides in the brainstem. This unique case has maintained the quality of cerebellum, excuse me, cerebrum through magical means. Tell me, when you revert to this feral state, how is balance and coordination? Oh, right. You're in no state to talk."

The witch emptied the contents of Dana's stomach for later study, then had shoved an entire piece of vampyr jerky inside that she had gotten from Dana's pockets. After some more unknown tests, the witch shoved the stomach back inside Dana's torso. The sudden burst of energy Dana received once her stomach was in place snapped her thoughts back into focus.

The witch paused for another tea break and had a servant bring her a table and chair. The servant wore cloth wraps around their entire body, and Dana suspected by their movements that they might not be human. When the witch sat for tea, she studied Dana with the sort of curiosity one might give an ugly child.

"While I've been working on you, I've noticed that internal trauma seems to heal completely." The woman sipped at her tea and then picked up a scone. "Your organs are particularly well connected to the magic that sustains you, and I suspect it may be temporal in nature."

"I don't know anything about that," Dana replied.

"Right, right. You were killed and revived." The woman bit into the scone and chewed slowly. "Have you ever endured massive brain trauma?"

"Had some crazy bitch shove probes in it recently."

The woman chuckled. "If you think you'll get a rise out of me, you're wrong. I'm talking about something more massive than that."

"Why should I tell you?"

"Good question. How do I put this? You and I have the potential to advance our understanding of the zombie brain by miles. If I could take it apart and put it back together, then ask you questions about the experience, well...I would love to collect your thoughts on the matter. In fact, those probes were relatively non-invasive compared to some ideas that I have."

Dana scoffed. "You want to chop up my brain?"

"I'm considering it. Your body holds plenty of secrets, and I wonder what I could get away with without damaging you too badly. You're a very rare specimen, likely one of a kind."

The zombie snorted. "If this is a negotiation, it's not going well. It sounds like you are planning to do it regardless of what I tell you."

"That's also true. But I can't make you speak to the experience itself, which presents quite the dilemma. If I cut your brain in half, are there two separate entities inside? Could I remove the left half of your brain and speak only to the right, then swap them? Is the human consciousness singular or collective?"

"Those are philosophical questions."

The witch nodded. "Philosophy gives us a logical means to tackle impossible problems. You, my dear, are the solution to such a problem."

Dana frowned. "So you're going to torture me and want me to play along?"

"Yes."

"Will you let me go?"

The witch smiled, and Dana recognized that she had officially stepped into whatever trap had been set for her. "Naturally, there must be something in it for you." She snapped her fingers and the door to the laboratory opened. The servant from before pushed in another dry erase board covered with fabric. "The woman you came here with, the werewolf. I have questions for her of my own, namely how she maintained her humanity. The Order is looking for her, did you know that? She represents the culmination of what should have been a failed experiment, and yet, she isn't. You are the far more valuable specimen, but imagine what I could learn from her?"

"Where is she?" Dana asked.

The witch nodded, and the servant yanked the fabric away. Instead of a dry-erase board, it was just a piece of wood mounted on wheels. Hanging from the wood was a painting of a farm. An old man stood in a field, pleading with a woman who stood at the edge of the frame and appeared to be screaming.

It was Tasia.

"That's right," the witch said. "I've placed your companion somewhere safe. For now. Your cooperation will determine the sort of treatment she receives from me. If I'm in a good mood, I may even work out some sort of work release program for her. However, if I am frustrated by experiments that yield me no answers, well..."

The woman produced a scalpel from nowhere as if it were a magic trick. "Why, I may just decide to take her apart and see how she ticks instead."

Dana wanted to scream, beg, or even threaten. She leaned heavily on the dead side of her brain to squash these emotions and focus on the here and now.

"How do I know you'll keep your word?" she asked.

"You don't. However, you should know that I value honesty above all else when it comes to any sort of business arrangement, especially when it comes to my reputation as the Collector." The woman smiled, her eyes lighting from within. "After all, I've built this entire lifestyle on being a woman of my word."

Somewhere, a door slammed. The Collector frowned and turned toward the door of her lab just as it opened. Another figure swaddled in cloth came inside and knelt to whisper in her ear. Dana strained to hear what was being said, but couldn't make anything out.

"Huh." The Collector set down her tea and stood, brushing crumbs from her skirt. "Apparently, the owner of that succubus has attacked my facility in the Cayman Islands again, and then escaped through another portal. The authorities are now swarming my building. I don't suppose you know anything about that?"

Dana shook her head. "I can honestly say I have no idea what's going on with your island problem."

The Collector frowned. "I can see you're telling the truth, but I don't like how it smells. If you'll excuse me, I need to go look into this situation personally. I'll leave you here with your companion to consider my offer." The woman followed her servants out of the room, leaving Dana alone with the painting.

Dana stared at the painting for a while, wondering if Tasia was okay inside of it. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and extended her mind to the hand still mounted on the nearby display board and flexed her fingers. After a few attempts, she was able to touch the pin holding her wrist in place. Dana opened her eyes and saw her hand curled forward like a scorpion's tail, her fingertips pressed against the spike holding it in place.

The painting had changed. Tasia was now looking out at her.

"We're getting out of here," Dana said, then closed her eyes again to concentrate on freeing her hand. The Collector was going to regret leaving her alone.

Absolute mayhem is coming over the next four chapters! You certainly don't want to miss it.

I'll see you next time!