Magical Girl Exorcist Squad: Finals Week, Act IV (season 2, issue #4)

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And now, back to our regularly scheduled manic magical girl shenanigans!

***

Nicole fumbled through her purse for her cellphone. She needed to share her location right now to the team’s group chat- it needed to happen immediately. This was bad, this was bad, this was bad bad bad bad-

“Care to join us?” Astra said with a beckoning finger.

The entire Donahue clan sans Debbi and Cass were gathered around the living room coffee table. They sat on plush chairs and couches around the mahogany table, each with a mug in their respective hands.

“Yeah, I think you should,” Patrick said. Black coffee cut with what smelt like Irish Whiskey resided in his New England Patriots mug. He wore a crisp black suit over his lean, tight body, his green eyes burning with anger as he stared down Astra. He sat on the long couch pressed against the window, his wife and sons crowded around him. He gestured to the nook, where Damian pulled up his legs to make some space.

Nicole guided a silent, shaking Amy over to the nook and sat down with her, holding her tight around her arm as they sat together.

“Where are your sisters?” Victoria asked. She wore a silver-gray pantsuit and three-inch pump heels, her natural hair tied up and arranged in an almost bouffant style. Her UMass Amherst mug contained what appeared to be green tea, and she sipped it in a manner so delicate Nicole could tell she was exerting A LOT of self-control. It was impressive- Nicole knew her own mother would have thrown the first punch in this situation.

“At work,” Amy said, voice hollow, eyes aimed at the floor.

Jason silently grabbed a pitcher of hot coffee and two spare mugs off the table, pouring in the coffee and adding in a generous dollop of skim milk and sugar before handing them to Nicole and Amy. The fifteen-year-old seemingly had everyone’s drink orders memorized- Debbi had mentioned he’d just gotten his first job at a coffee house, and he was dressed in a green apron and hat over a black t-shirt. If Patrick had been glaring daggers at Astra, Jason looked like he was actively holding back a storm of adolescent rage behind his eyes.

“Good to hear,” Victoria said, drumming her fingers on the outside of her mug. “Do you girls know who this is?”

“Yes,” Amy whispered.

“Unfortunately,” Nicole said.

“Always a pleasure to see you, Nicholas,” Astra said.

Nicole gripped the hem of her skirt. “That isn’t my name!”

“Yeah!” Timothy said, voice cracking as he leaned forward. The boy wore a martial artist’s Gi with a blue belt tied around the waist. “Why are you calling her a boy’s name when she’s a girl? Are you stupid?”

“Tim,” Richard said, waving his hand for him to dial it back. The eldest of the Donahue boys wore a simple blue jeans and green Celtics’ shirt combination, his braided hair falling around his face, and he was the only person in the room who seemed even remotely calm.

“Oh do you not know?” Astra said.

“Don’t do this,” Amy whispered, her hands trembling again.

Nicole pressed send on the phone inside her purse- assuming any of the team or anyone at St. Joseph’s was able to steal a glance at the chat, they would know something was up. A worm of dread and outrage bore through her inner stomach lining as she looked up at Astra as she sipped black tea from a plain white mug.

“It’s because Nick here used to be a boy,” Astra said, leaning forward and grinning with a sadistic glee. “Did you know that? That our daughter’s partner is one of those transgenders? Because personally I don’t approve.”

“Wait, what?” Damian asked. He was six, so Nicole gave him a pass.

“That doesn’t matter to us!” Jason hissed.

“Yeah!” Tim shouted in tandem.

“Partner?” Victoria said, pursing her lips. She looked over at Amy and Nicole. “You two are dating?”

Amy gulped. Nicole answered, “Yes. We actually came here to tell you about that. And about… This. About her.”

“And they’re already cohabitating- I suppose this is the whole ‘U-Haul Lesbian’ phenomenon I’ve heard of?” Astra said. “Either way I don’t approve- not that either of you are really gay.”

“Yes, because we’re both bisexual,” Nicole snapped.

“No such thing. It’s just a stop on the one-way train to degeneracy,” Astra said with a dismissive wave of her hand, her long red lacquered nails like crimson talons matching her flaming hair. “Not that you’re really a girl, anyway-”

That was when Jason threw his drink at Astra.

She gasped, then laughed bitterly and took a sip of her own drink. “Honestly- is this how you’re raising our kids, Patrick? Unbelievable.”

“We’re not your kids,” Jason said, standing up. “And you can’t talk to my sister or to her girlfriend like that you stupid bitch!”

Patrick stomped his foot. Loudly. “Jason. Apologize to Astra.”

“But Dad-”

“Jason. Now.”

Jason grimaced and said, “Sorry. Ma’am.”

“Good. Richard, please take your brothers upstairs and don’t come out of your rooms until I say so,” Patrick continued.

“Yes sir,” Richard said, grabbing Damian by the hand and gesturing for Timothy and Jason to follow.

When they’d left, Patrick glared at Astra. “What the hell are you doing here? And why do you still look the same age as you did twenty years ago?”

“I came to check up on Amanda,” Astra said with a smug smile. “You’re letting the girl run wild, pal around with sinners like this thing-”

“You’re just always on, aren’t you?” Victoria muttered.

“She’s a demon,” Nicole said.

Amy’s head snapped around and she looked at Nicole with shock. This was going poorly, but the information needed to be out there- the Donahues were in danger as long as this monster was here.

Victoria laughed. “I mean, I don’t disagree-”

“That’s not a joke, I mean that literally,” Nicole said. Her hand throbbed with White Light and extended it towards Astra. “And I’ll prove it.”

“I think you’ve done enough, boy,” Astra said. “Why don’t you go now and let this family have a proper conversation-”

“You’re not her family,” Victoria said. “You’re not her mother.”

“I mean, technically speaking, I am, though I must say, Victoria, I have no designs on your husband if that’s what you’re concerned about. I just want to open up a dialogue, let everyone know that I’m here and I would love to be a part of Amanda’s life-”

Nicole lunged for Astra, reaching out a hand, but Astra jumped out of her chair and dodged the blow. Nicole landed face first on the floor.

“Seriously, this violent creature is something you want romancing our daughter?” Astra said to Patrick and Victoria. “He’s not even housebroken and he’s already living with Amanda-”

Patrick slammed his mug atop the coffee table and stood up. “You have no right. None whatsoever. I looked for you. Did you know that? I was a kid, barely old enough to drink, and then you came into my life like a damned hurricane. And I thought- how lucky am I? This gorgeous older woman wants to show me the ropes. But you left the second Amy was born- I was shopping for rings, dammit! And now you have the audacity to come back into my life, into my home, to insult my wife and my children and try to claim them as your own, to try to prey on my paternal instincts by acting like there’s something wrong with the woman Amy has chosen to make a life with?! What is wrong with you? At this point, I hope you are a demon because at least that would explain all of this shit!”

His shoulders slumped up and down as he screamed. Victoria patted her husband’s arm, and pulled him back down onto the couch. Amy started hyperventilating again, and Astra fixed her crooked sneer onto her.

Nicole took the shot and grabbed her by the ankle, channeling Holy Light into the succubus’ leg. Astra screamed as steam shot out of her skin. She glared at Nicole with solid purple eyes and hissed. Nicole hopped to her feet and wound up a glowing punch, only for Astra to fall away in a puff of purple smoke.

Nicole’s own shoulders slumped, her heart rate sprinting, her eyes wild.

She looked over and saw Victoria trying to calm down Patrick.

She looked over and saw Amy looking at her with fear in her eyes.

Shame stampeded through Nicole as she walked over to her girlfriend, and her girlfriend flinched when she tried to touch her.

Amy curled up into the fetal position and wept openly.

***

Iris’ eyes peeled wide as she took in the sight of her sister pinned to a gymnasium’s outside wall with a knife pressed to her throat by a demon. She wasn’t sure how long Morgan had been possessed, but that didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered now was keeping Monica safe and getting rid of this monster.

The question was… How?

Shit. How the fuck do I superhero?

Iris looked the demon straight in the eyes and said, “Let go of her.”

“Or what?” the demon said.

“Morgan,” Mark intoned, his gentle voice reaching out to her, taking a step forward. “Maybe you should-”

“Oh shut up you stupid fucking cloggy!” the demon spat.

“You bitch,” Mark said, inching forward further.

Iris put an arm in front of Mark’s chest and barred him from advancing. She scanned the scene before her eyes, and noticed something: beneath the demon’s feet was a rupture in the pavement, a tree root bursting from the ground and creating a slant beneath Morgan’s feet as she pinned Monica against a wall.

A prong of dread went down Iris’ throat. If she did this, she was committing. Nicole had told her that the more she used her powers, the more she would change. It would get harder and harder to boy-mode if she did this. And it could create a slippery slope: she might not be able to stop herself from using her powers again, changing further.

But as she hesitated, the edge of the blade pricked Monica’s skin and drew blood.

At that point, there was no choice.

Iris searched deep within her soul for God’s Song. She prayed silently, asking for help, for guidance, for power. Warmth and joy surged through her body, shining and sparkling as rapturous power engulfed her. It flowed from her hands into the ground below, and the rupture in the ground healed as if it were wet clay kneaded back into shape by a master sculptor.

Morgan lost her balance, tripping and falling, the knife falling with her.

Iris pounced on her before she could get back up. The blade cut through her shirt, grazing her left arm as she put a hand on Morgan’s face and channeled White Holy Light into the girl. Ecstasy sang through Iris as the demon poured out of Morgan and rushed into the air, dissolving in a waft of black smoke that left behind nothing but a faint odor of brimstone.

Morgan looked up at Iris, knife still in hand, Iris’ blood dripping onto her face.

Iris rolled over and fell onto her side, clutching the stinging, painful wound to stop the blood flow.

Morgan stared at them all. “I- I’m- I-”

“Go,” Iris said.

“I’m sorry-”

“Just GO!” Iris screamed.

Morgan nodded and obliged.

Monica slumped onto the ground and buried her face in her hands, and Iris, still clutching her wound, shimmied over to her sister and put her arm around her, held her as she wept. Poor girl was terrified, poor girl’s life had been in danger, and all Iris had been able to think about was how it affected her, how it might make her have to acknowledge who she really was-

But doesn’t this prove you don’t deserve it, she thought, if you’re really so cowardly as this, doesn’t that mean you’re not really a girl, that you don’t deserve to be one? That you’ll always be stuck as Zack at the end of the day?

The thought filled her with dread, even as she held her sister, even as the euphoria of using her powers kept echoing inside her mind and body and soul, even as Mark…

… Even as Mark stood over her and recognition was plain to see on his face.

“I can explain,” Iris said. This was it. This was when she lost her only remaining friend. This was when he stopped caring about her, when he found out she was just a filthy, disgusting freak and a liar and a doom magnet and she wouldn’t have him in her life anymore. She’d be deprived of his smile, of his stupid jokes, of his quiet and stolid charisma. She was about to lose him, and that… And that terrified her even more than the idea she was about to change further.

He knelt down and tore off a chunk of his sleeve, then reached over towards Iris’ bloody arm. “Hold still.”

“Mark, I-”

“We need to stop this from bleeding, hold still,” Mark said, taking Iris hand off her wound and tying the sleeve around it as a makeshift bandage. “So you are Magical Girl, ja?”

“... No, I’m not,” Iris said. “But I have powers, and they- gah!”

A spike of pain rammed through her skull, and Monica looked up at her in concern. Iris shook her head, trying to force the pain away.

Mark stood up and said, “We need to disinfect that. Does your mother know about this?”

“She doesn’t,” Monica said. “We can’t tell her.”

“Actually, maybe we should,” Iris said, slowly stumbling to her feet, head spinning. “A demon just possessed one of our classmates- we’re in real danger here.”

“But you took care of it,” Monica said.

“But there could be more,” Iris said.

“Come,” Mark said, tilting his head back. “We got to my house- only a block away.”

“Okay,” Iris nodded. “Monica, text Mom, tell her where we’re going.”

Monica obliged, and they walked off campus into the damp afternoon.

Mark’s house was less a house and more a massive brownstone in a block of similar buildings stretching out for several blocks in a residential neighborhood. They scurried up the stone steps to the darkened interior, Mark twisting his key in the lock and ushering them inside with a flourish of his hands.

Nobody was home. The lights were off, the furnishings were sparse, there were no pictures or paintings or posters on the walls. The only signs of life were in Mark’s green-painted bedroom, which was stuffed wall to wall with bookshelves. Mostly science fiction novels- Herbert, Reynolds, Kowal, Jemisin, Butler, Dick, Stephenson, Liu, and Corey were all names that lined the wall. Stacks of unread paperbacks sat on the floor, similar names and ones Iris didn’t recognize, all gathered around the bedframe with a navy-blue comforter draped over it. Mark had Iris and Monica sit on the bed while he went for supplies.

“Are you okay?” Iris asked.

“No,” Monica said. “Are you?”

“Not really.”

Silence for a moment.

“Look,” Iris said, “I get n-not wanting to tell Mom, but it’s either her or Nicole.”

“You can’t tell Nicole- she’s got to protect Boston. If she finds out about this she’ll want to come home-”

“Monica,” Iris said. “You almost d-died.”

“I… I know,” Monica said. “But you saved me. Thank you. That was wicked brave of you.”

“I d-d-don’t know how to use my powers,” Iris said. “And frankly, I’m scared to. I’m n-n-not brave. I d-did the right thing, and I’d do it again, but I’m so scared right now- I c-c-can already feel the change coming on- oh God!”

Iris clutched at her chest as a soreness erupted out from it. It passed in flash, but when it faded, her chest itched, and she squirmed at the sensation of her shirt on the bare skin. Her face twitched as if something were shifting around, and her arms and legs… Her arms and legs were compacting. So was her spine- she was shrinking.

She wanted to hate it.

She really, really wanted to be horrified by this.

But that didn’t change the fact that she wasn’t. That she wanted this, that she wanted…

She wanted to look like herself.

Mark walked back into the room and did a double-take. Finally, he looked at her, and said, “Hello, beautiful.”

Monica’s eyes darted back and forth between the two of them, and she stood up and said, “I’m gonna give you two a minute.”

“What?” Iris said. “Why?”

“You’ll thank me later,” Monica said as she made a hasty exit.

Mark sat on the bed next to Iris and untied her bandage. He held a bag of fluffy white cotton balls and a black plastic bottle of hydrogen peroxide. He wetted the cotton ball and pressed it into against Iris’ wound. It stung, and she flinched, and he… He brushed her hair out of her eyes. A warmth fluttered through her insides, massaging every knot and bump of anxiety inside her.

“This looks good,” Mark said. “Lighter.”

“It is?” Iris said. She pushed an errant lock back over eyes and saw that it had indeed lightened even further, going from dirty blonde to an almost sandy shade. Still not as light as Monica’s or Nicole’s buttery shade, but… Blonder than she was used to. Blonder than she’d been even before puberty, frankly. It was weird- how much blonder was she going to get? How much shorter? How much… How much girlier?

“You look good,” Mark said as he rubbed the peroxide into her wound, dabbing at the blood with a clean scrap of paper towel.

Iris blushed. This felt… He felt… She felt… Oh, shit. Oh, Holy Hannah, Iris thought. Fear and panic stampeded inside her brain like a herd of angry bison. D-do I like boys? Do I like… This boy?

… Maybe.

Does he like me?

But why on Earth would he? I’m terrible, I’m disgusting, I’m a freak, I’m an asshole-

Mark, for his part, hadn’t even flinched at anything that had happened. He touched her skin just outside the wound, and just to make sure he wasn’t a demon, just to make sure she wasn’t about to make a colossal mistake, she channeled a flash of Holy Light into her shoulder and watched it touch Mark’s fingers. She had to know, even if this changed her further still.

Nothing. Mark didn’t react. His eyes were still the same gentle shade of brown they’d been the whole time.

He was human.

And he was doing this because he…

“I have something to tell you,” Iris said.

“You are trans girl,” Mark said, wiping the peroxide off his hands with another sheet of paper towel. He tossed it, along with the damp cotton balls, into the wastebin next to his bed and his nightstand.

Iris blinked rapidly. “Y-you- how did you know? Is it that I got shorter? That I’m b-b-blonder?”

“You just always seemed more like a girl than a boy to me,” Mark shrugged as he put a fresh bandage on Iris’ cut. “When our ‘friends’ would run their mouths about women, specifically about trans ones, you would hesitate. You would join in, and you would agree a leetle too loudly with what they were saying. It felt forced. What is the word- ‘regurgitated?’ That is it. And then with your older sister… The way you reacted was telling. You were so angry with her, never shutting up about how she’d betrayed you, that I realized you were actually angrier with yourself. That you were jealous, and you were angry because you were jealous. Green, it is not flattering color on you; but it is illuminating, ja?”

Iris smiled in spite of herself. “You just… S-s-see right through m-me, d-don’t you?”

Mark leaned in and kissed the top of the bandage he’d just applied. “Ja. Like I said- I have good eyes. And you are beautiful.”

“No,” Iris said, leaning back against the green wall the bed was pressed into. “I’m really not. I’m fucking hideous.”

“Why?”

“I’m a horrible person is why!” Iris said, cringing. “I’m a coward and a selfish prick who only cares about herself. I treated my own family horribly, and I couldn’t stop until my own hypocrisy was thrown back in my face. I’m awful!”

Mark shrugged, and pulled his legs up onto the bed, shaking off his shoes and crossing his legs together. “No. You are flawed, ja, but so is everyone. You make mistakes. So do I. When I was a child, in Netherlands… I made mistakes. Horrible ones. I was a bully. I was vicious with words, but too cowardly to use fists. And I was tall for my age, so I nobody challenged me. But then I stopped getting taller by around fifth grade. I hit one hundred and seventy centimeters by eleven and that was that. Soon, everyone I harassed was taller than me, stronger than me. Then, when I was thirteen, one of those victims decided he wanted revenge. He beat me bloody, left me lying on the ground of the school football pitch. And everyone looked at me and did not help me. Not even the teachers- they hated me just as much; were glad I was being put in my place. And as I was laying there on my back, no companion but pain and guilt, I knew I had to be better. If I wanted better, I had to be a better person. So, I came to America to live with my father. And every day since I arrived here in the Land of Opportunity, I have seized the opportunity to be better. I do not fight or hurt anyone unless they hurt someone I care for. And I care for you very much.”

Iris blushed, her heart pounding, her chest and stomach flushed with warmth, her words struggling to get past the lump in her throat. “Th-thank you. I d-d-didn’t… I didn’t know that about you. I n…never even asked what your life was like b-b-b-before you met me. H…Holy H-Hannah, I’m an idiot.”

“But you have opportunity too,” Mark said. “To atone. To be better.”

“... You’re right,” Iris said. It sounded so simple when he said it. And he believed in her, and she… She wanted to be the person that he saw when he looked at her. The person Nicole and Monica saw. Someone better. “And I have an opportunity to be better. I have superpowers, dammit.”

“And there are villains afoot,” Mark said with a goofy smile. “And… What is expression? With great power-”

“Exactly,” Iris said. Show him, a voice in the back of her head begged her. She exhaled, then reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She pulled up a photo and said, “I’d like you t-to m-m-m-meet the real m-me.” She handed him the phone, the picture of herself in a long black dress with a red flannel button-up worn as a sweater, hair styled and makeup applied by Nicole and Amy. “My n-n-name, my real name… Is Iris.”

Mark looked at the photo, looked at Iris, then back and forth several times. He handed her back the phone. “Hello, beautiful.”

A fit of giggles exploded out of her, and her good shoulder brushed against Mark’s. He grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze, and he said, “Can I kiss you?”

“L-like this? Y-you w-w-wanna kiss me when I look like this?” Iris said, the disbelief ringing inside her like a gong. He wanted to kiss her- he saw the better version of her, the one underneath all the angst and bullshit and masculine posturing, and he wanted to kiss her. “I look ugly- I look like a boy. Wouldn’t you rather kiss me when I look like I do in that photo?”

“No. I just want to kiss you. How you look is immaterial.”

Iris gulped. I like boys, the realization lighting up her soul. I like this boy.

She started to lean in for this, but she flinched as a nauseous feeling, a splash of polluted water on the fire of her euphoria and attraction, washed over her. Dyshporia- that was it. That was what she’d been feeling lately. That was what she’d been feeling her entire life. And since that day when the Church fell on top of her and shit knit it back together, since she’d started going back and forth and pretending like she was still Zack, pretending like she’d ever been Zack, it had gotten worse and worse and worse. She hadn’t been herself. And right now, she still didn’t feel like herself. The moment wasn’t right, and she needed it to be right. Needed it to be perfect before she could go through with this.

Iris gulped and said, “N-no. I’m sorry, but it’s not immaterial. Not to me, anyway. I want to kiss you, but not when I look like this. This weekend, come with me and Monica to Boston. I’ll get myself p-prettied up, and then… Then I want you to plant a big, wet kiss on my lips. Is that okay?”

“Is more than okay,” Mark said with a big, dorky grin. God, he was adorable.

“Okay,” Iris smiled back, and she rested her head on his shoulder and listened to his heartbeat. Steady, calm, cool. Just like him. “For now, though… We still have some stuff to deal with at school.”

“Something is rotten in state of New Hampshire.”

“Yeah,” Iris said, racking her brain as to who had sent that demon and why. “It is.”

***

Nicole watched the waves collide with the shore as she stood atop the same beach where she and Amy had confessed their feelings to each other not so long ago. The sky was gray and the waves were massive and the air was cold and damp and salty. The wind pushed her jaw-length blonde hair out of her eyes as she clutched her phone desperately, waiting for one of their teammates to respond.

“How are you doing, kiddo?” a familiar voice sang out from behind her.

Nicole turned and saw Victoria approaching her, bare feet leaving dents in the sand. She mustered up a weak smile and said, “I’m fine. How is Amy?”

“She’s doing a bit better,” Victoria said, standing next to Nicole and facing the incoming tide. “Her dad is talking to her right now. She’s pretty shaken up by all this.”

“I’m sorry,” Nicole said, shoulders drooping, eyes falling. “I scared her, didn’t I?”

“You did, yeah,” Victoria said.

Ouch, Nicole thought, I probably deserve that.

“You remind me a lot of Patrick when he was your age,” Victoria said.

“I… I do?” Nicole said, bristling with dysphoria at being compared to a man. Where are we going with this?

“Vibrant, passionate, protective,” Victoria said. “All good things. In moderation, at least.”

“... Yeah, I see what you mean,” Nicole said, shuffling her foot in the sand, carving a small moat beneath her feet.

“I had my suspicions about you and Amy, to be completely honest with you,” Victoria said. “And I have no objection to your relationship, just to be clear. You seem to make her happy, most of the time.”

Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’ say it- “And what about the other thing? Do you have any objection to that?”

Victoria flinched. “Why would you say that?”

Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it- “Amy had some… Funny ideas about me, when I first came out to her.”

“And you’re wondering if she got that from somewhere?”

DON’T SAY IT- “Yes.” DANGIT!

Victoria sighed. “I’ll admit, Patrick and I… We both come from fairly traditional backgrounds. When I was growing up, men were men and women were women-”

“And what am I?” Nicole asked.

Victoria hesitated, chewing on her words for several moments before saying, “What would you like to be?”

“A woman,” Nicole said. “Because I am one.”

“Okay,” Victoria nodded. “And I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable- this is new to me.”

Nicole tried very, very, VERY hard not to take it personally. She was the first trans person most people she interacted with had met, their first exposure to what a transgender woman was like, what they looked like, how they acted. Even if she passed relatively well, even if she was able to go stealth more often than most of her trans sisters… There would always be that element of ‘you’re going to be people’s reference point’ when they found out what she was.

And yet…

“I’m sorry for the way I acted,” Nicole said, “But Astra is dangerous- she really is a demon.”

“Oh, I believe you,” Victoria said. “And I’m not upset about that per se- but you could have handled that a bit better.”

“... Yeah, I know.”

“Like I said, you remind of me Patrick,” Victoria said. “He’s in about the same state as you right now, even if he’s trying to be strong for our kids. But that’s also why I think Amy is in good hands with you- you want to be strong for her, don’t you?”

She really was determined to put Nicole in some sort of masculine-coded box, and that stung, but at the same time…, “Yeah, I do. I’ll protect her with everything I have. Every breath in my lungs.”

Victoria smiled. “That’s good. Like I said, she’s been happier lately, and you explain why. Though I’ll admit I’m not sure how I feel about you two already living together.”

“... Eheh… Yeah, yeah that’s fair,” Nicole said, scratching the back of her head. “My mom said the same thing, actually.”

“But right now, you’ve got bigger fish to fry, don’t you?” Victoria said.

“Yeah,” Nicole smiled. “Yeah, I do.”

***

Cass’ skull pounded as she and Matt approached the warehouse parking lot. A vision was coming on, she could feel it. And now was not the fucking time, dammit!

She and Matt both wore all black as they approached, Cass’ hands jammed into her hoody’s pockets. She gritted her teeth.

“What’s wrong?” Matt asked.

“That obvious?”

“Yeah,” Matt said.

“You know me so well,” she smiled in spite of herself. “I can feel a prophecy coming on. It’s drumming inside my skull like a pair of bongos. If it happens while we’re on the job, we’re fucked.”

“Good point,” Matt said. “You could fall back, regroup with Debbi and Heather for their part of the op?”

“No, Lyle will suspect something is off if we aren’t both here,” Cass said.

That was when Lyle came storming out of the warehouse, long knife in hand, his white tuxedo traded in for an all-black ensemble. “Where are they?!” he bellowed as he marched towards them.

“Then again, something might already be off,” Cass muttered. Nothing was ever simple, dammit!

“Where are what?” Matt asked, folding his arms together in front of his chest.

“Muh dragon eggs!” Lyle said. “Where the hell are they?!”

“We have no idea, jefe,” Cass said, the pounding inside her skull growing worse and worse with each passing second.

“Bullshit you don’t!” Lyle said, brandishing his knife in Cass’ direction. “Y’all two just show up here looking for work and suddenly my eggs are missing and all the money I stole is gone! Ahm supposed to believe that’s a blasted coincidence!”

“It is,” Matt said, putting himself between Lyle and Cass.

“Ah don’t believe a word you have to say!” Lyle said, pressing the point of the knife an inch from Matt’s heart.

That was when the images exploded behind Cass’ eyes. The screams of the damned reached up from Hell while a Heavenly Choir sang above her. The machinery of Hell grinded and screeched as a swirling outline of fire coalesced into the shape of the withered old woman she’d seen in the first vision standing above it all.

“BEWARE THE LONE DRAGONSLAYER!” the old woman screamed. “HE IS UPON YOU!”

And then it was gone, in sight and sound and sensation. The absence of all it had been, the sudden vanishing of the pain, shook Cass as she registered what was happening around her.

Namely that Matt had transformed and was shooting the signal flare Father Gonzalez had given them up into the sky.

Lyle jabbed at him with his long knife, but Cass shot forth a telekinetic burst that sent Lyle and his cursed blade flying back towards the warehouse.

Green and purple streaks closed in on them, and Debbi and Heather descended from the eastern sky as Lyle leaped into the air and began bounding over buildings, heading west towards the city as the others started to follow.

“You okay?” Cass said, transforming as she ran up to Matt.

“Fine, just so long as you are,” Matt said.

“You could have died just now,” Cass said as she got onto her broomstick. “You should have waited to send up the flare- what if he’d stabbed you before you could pull the trigger?”

“If it bought you an extra second, an extra layer of protection, it would be worth it,” Matt shrugged as he climbed onto the broom.

Cass rolled her eyes. She didn’t know whether to be flattered or offended. “C’mon then, pendejo, let’s fly.”

They shot into the air, the question posed by Cass’ vision echoing inside her mind: who was the Lone Dragonslayer? And was he the one responsible for stealing the eggs?

***

Nicole knocked on Amy’s bedroom door.

“Come in,” she heard from the other side.

Nicole opened the door and stepped inside. Amy laid flat on her back atop her bed in her yellow room, eyes half-opened. “Hey,” Nicole said gently. A storm of emotions went through Nicole as she looked at Amy: hope, pain, desperation, affection, love-

Love?! She thought somewhere back in the recesses of her mind.“Hey,” Amy said, mustering a faint smile.

An awkward silence sat between them, until finally, simultaneously, they both said, “I’m sorry! Wait, you’re sorry? What are you sorry for?!”

They both paused and looked at each other, another moment of silence passing before they both started giggling. “You go first,” Amy said.

“I’m sorry for losing my cool,” Nicole said. “I made the situation with Astra worse, and I scared you. And I… I hate myself for that.”

“It’s okay,” Amy said, sitting up and crossing her legs. “I mean, maybe don’t do that again without running it by me, but I get why you did it. I’m just… I’m tired of being victimized. How many freaking stalkers do I have at this point? How many more do you think there are?”

“I don’t know,” Nicole sighed as she sat down next to Amy on the mattress.

“I’m sorry too,” Amy said. “For falling apart like that.”

“You’re allowed to fall apart sometimes, ya’ know,” Nicole said. “Please don’t beat yourself up over this.”

“I know, I know, and I’ll try not to. I just… I feel off my game. I’m failing all my classes, and my grades have been on a downward spiral since last year anyway. I lost a fight to someone I should have been able to beat. And everything going on with Astra, and Winona writing me letters from jail, and the fact there’s at least three more Diabolical factions we haven’t even run into yet waiting out there… It’s been making it hard for me to sleep. Really hard, honestly.”

Nicole put an arm around Amy. “I understand. And I see you.”

Amy gave another faint smile. “Thank you. You… You’re amazing, you know that. You always worry about other people. You’re the… You’re one of the only parts of my life that makes sense.”

Nicole pressed her forehead against Amy’s. “Thank you. And I’ll be here for you, no matter what. We’re in this together. And as far as I’m concerned, we’re in this for the long haul. Okay?”

“Okay,” Amy said, her smile growing bigger and bigger.

Nicole gave her a kiss, close-mouthed at first, but then starting to include tongue…

Until finally, her phone went off.

If anybody was inquiring as to why Nicole had shared her location, they didn’t say so. What was happening, however, was Heather sharing her location, with the caption of ‘dealing with Lyle! Need help!!!’

Nicole showed it to Amy, and a look of grim determination settled over her face.

“You ready to go to work?” Amy said, standing up and offering Nicole a hand.

Nicole took it and rose to her feet as she and Amy both transformed. “Always.”

They said their good-byes to the Donahues, and they shot out the door and took flight together, hand in hand to keep themselves pushing faster and faster.

Love, Nicole thought to herself. Is this what it feels like?