Jamie kept prodding at Avery, but he wouldn't give the full details of his encounter with Jessamine until Ada came back.

"I'm not repeating this more than once..." Avery shuddered, dreading having to recite the story at all. "I can't. I'm already dealing with too much on the inside, and you all make me repeatedly tell this tale..."

Jamie tucked his hands behind his head and angled back in his seat. "Fine, fine. We'll wait." He'd switched on some music on his phone, and closed his eyes as he bobbed to the beat. "We'll chill until Ada's done doing whatever the fuck she's doing."

Avery rubbed his hands together, hoping to infuse them with warmth.

I don't think I'll ever "chill" again.

He'd been fighting actual chills since he'd come up from the basement, but the eerie heat in his core wasn't helping, wasn't settling him. Torn between sweating and shivering, he didn't know how to get comfortable. The air-conditioning soothed over his face, and yet it didn't seem to truly cool him down.

The sky grew darker, plaguing the clearance with obscurity. Like a blanket was thrown over them, concealing them from the outside world. Further implying that this area, this place was its own dimension, protected from humans, magical and sinister all at once. Further isolated from the world Avery sought to save.

The heat remained in his core. It wouldn't spread up his arms nor down his legs, and concentrated inside his stomach and churned it, upset it. He hadn't eaten anything to justify the nausea, and he didn't get nauseous easily. Which meant it was completely caused by the demonic realm, Jessamine's interference, and the overall anxiety of everything going on.

And of course, the music coming from Jamie's phone wasn't helping, either. He'd opted for a playlist that featured indie singers that Avery had no doubt Jessamine listened to. So every lyric, every beat reminded him of her. Every shiver, every thread of cold slicing down his back, every jolt of warmth in his belly, reminded him of her.

Not just the demonic her that he'd been strangely attracted to, but her. The real Jessamine, the one he'd spent a night with, wrapped up in her blankets, basking in her scent. The one he'd been hesitant to get too close to, still nursing his pain at Amy's disappearance, but he'd gotten too drunk to resist. Jessamine, the beautiful, mysterious barista whose touch had sent sparks up his arm and jump-started his heart.

Fuck.

He definitely had feelings for her. More than what he'd thought, much more than what he'd intended. If he hadn't realized it yet, that had changed, with quite the smack to the face to make him see it.

But had it been her reappearance as an evil entity that had caused him to come to the conclusion? Or had he always known deep down and been unwilling to admit it?

Did Jessamine have feelings for him, too? She'd implied it, even the demons had implied it, earlier, but how could he know for sure? And what difference did it make?

I need to get rid of her, regardless. She has to be stopped, and the only way to stop her...

If she did have feelings, how were those feelings strong enough to evade the thousands of demons cramped up inside her? She'd pushed through them and kissed Avery; and with more reflection on it, Avery had an inkling she'd been the one to do that, not the monsters in her head. They wouldn't have wanted to kiss him, would they? They were demons, they were ruthless and bloodthirsty—they didn't experience lust. If they did, it was likely a violent kind of lust, that would have resulted in Avery's death.

And yet, their presence had created lust, and it was, to a point, brutal. The way they'd transformed Jessamine had animated parts of Avery that he hadn't experienced in ages. The desire he'd had for her, for her growling, her darkness... he didn't understand it. He had no means to prevent it, to shove it down and pretend it wasn't happening. Was he attracted to evil? Or was it a simple coincidence that the woman he'd been developing feelings for was becoming evil?

Maybe it was more than lust. Sure, his body had responded to her attacks in weird, lustful ways, but maybe it was because he had more than desire towards her. Maybe that night they'd spent together had started something else between them—more than a physical bond, but a deeply emotional one.

And if that was the case, the demons would be livid. They were creatures of negativity, of hatred; to possess a woman who was possibly falling in love? Who had deep feelings for the man they wanted out of their way? That had to be deterring for them.

So how was Jessamine's soul still alive in there? How had they not smothered her, torn into her for using her emotions against them? They could evict her soul from her body with one snap, right? And soon, if that was the plan. Maybe they weren't strong enough yet; maybe they had a specific timeline to follow. There were too many maybes to go off of.

He couldn't let them continue to cramp up inside her, not if she was still inside, too, and still fighting. But if Avery wanted to find an alternative to saving her—not killing her and not dooming her to a demonic realm forever—he'd have to act fast. Which meant he'd have to speak with her again, before her soul left her body.

But she'll kill me if she sees me again...

How long would Jessamine's soul survive in such a hostile environment? And was it possible for her to expel the demons?

"She has to," he said out loud, quickly clamping his mouth shut to stop himself from saying any more.

Jamie jerked in his seat, snorting. "Hm?" He smacked his lips. "Huh?"

Avery stared at him, incredulous. "Were you asleep?"

"Huh? I..." Jamie scrunched his nose and scratched his cheek. "Well, yeah, I guess I was." He stretched out his arms and let out a chuckle. "How the fuck did I fall asleep?" He paused, turned, then blinked at Avery. "Wait; how did you not?"

Avery glared at him, sensing his neck cords start to spasm. "How can you think I'd even want to sleep right now? I unleashed chaos on the world, and that chaos will fucking murder me if I cross its path again. There's no way I'm sleeping. If I close my eyes, all I see is death."

Jamie yawned. "We haven't slept in what feels like days, though, have we? I guess that's why I passed out."

"Good for you," said Avery, snickering at him. Oh, he wanted to sleep—his muscles were in agony and the insides of his eyelids burned, begging to close and not open for a while. "I won't be passing out any time soon."

"Right, well, this was a fluke," said Jamie, pausing the melodies coming from his phone. "Because real sleep? I have a feeling we won't be getting that ever again, not if we can't block Jessamine from what she's doing."

"What the demons are doing," reminded Avery, narrowing his gaze. "She's not responsible for it. Her soul is... it's trapped, and she has no choice."

"Well, it's her body, and they're controlling it, so it is her, on the surface, at least." Yesterday's bitterness had left Jamie's voice, but he still sounded troubled, disappointed. He still harbored that grudge against Jessamine, that aggression whenever last night's mistakes were brought up. "I wish you'd killed her, dude. Heck, I wish I had. Women just keep fucking us up, don't they?"

Avery winced; he knew Jamie referred to Jessamine, but also to Amy. Avery's tryst with her had almost ruined his friendship with Jamie, and he often counted his lucky stars that Jamie had chosen their friendship over his own feelings. Had he pursued what he felt for Amy, their show would have ended and they'd no longer be roommates.

And Amy might be alive.

After this blip—Jessamine's transformation—Avery worried once more that their friendship would take a dip. That Jamie would hold another grudge against Avery for listening to his heart—and to some extent, his dick—and dump him in his shit, unwilling to help him. And Avery deserved that. Had he listened, had he gone against his emotions, like he usually did... demons wouldn't be out in the world, seeking to take it over.

But Jamie was still there. He was still Avery's friend. A pissed-off one, an annoyed and annoying one, one who pushed all the wrong buttons and often got on Avery's nerves, but he was there. And to top that all off, he was helping. And he didn't need to.

"You don't have to be here, man," Avery said, looking towards the shrubbery concealing the clearance's exit. He gripped the steering wheel. "You can go home. You can leave all this crap to me, okay? It's my fault, anyway. My responsibility."

Jamie shook his head. "Avery—"

"—no, I'm serious." He twisted to his friend, eyebrows bunched. "You... were right. From the beginning, too. I should have listened to you, I should have said fuck it and ended all this last night, before she walked into that house. No, better—I should have stopped it after we touched and I felt that jolt. I should have dismissed it. Take my coffee, leave the shop, get on with our life. We'd never... we wouldn't be sitting here, debating how to kill her, how to save the world, how to—"

"—bro," Jamie patted Avery's shoulder and smirked, "are you actually admitting you were wrong? Like, out loud?" He chortled. "Where the fuck is my camera? I need to get this recorded and posted on our channel immediately."

Avery nudged him hard with his elbow. "Fuck you, man."

Jamie's chortle grew more intense. "For real, can you imagine it? Smart-ass jerk Avery Boomer has admitted he was wrong, for the first time in his life—"

"For real though, Jamie." Avery nudged him again, but also grabbed his arm and squeezed it. "Regardless of my admitting this, you should go. Get the fuck out of all this mess before it's too late. This..." Avery gestured at the clearing. "It isn't any of your doing. You don't need to be here to fix my mistakes."

"Fix your mistakes?" Jamie scoffed. "Bro, I always fix your mistakes." He picked up his phone and waved it about. "Who do you think puts all our footage together, because it's always a damn mess since you never investigate according to our plans? I'm the one bleeping out all your bullshit in our videos, because you cuss so damn much, and even YouTube can only handle so much of it. I edit out your tantrums—"

"—I don't have tantrums," Avery muttered, crossing his arms and huffing like a fit-throwing child, basically proving Jamie's point.

"Ha," Jamie laughed, "this proves that you do. And like I said, I edit those out. I even re-record my own voice over yours sometimes."

"What?" Avery's eyebrows reached upward and his jaw dropped. "You do what?"

"You didn't know?" Jamie grinned. "I've had to do that a few times. When you were in the background of a shot, or near the camera, and saying some pervy shit about Amy or fucking around with her—"

"—I don't say pervy shit!" Avery fidgeted, smashing his knee into the steering wheel. "Ah, fuck, you're getting me all flustered, man! I don't need this right now."

Jamie shrugged. "Sorry, it's the truth."

"Is there a point you're trying to make by shitting on me like this?" Avery kneaded his knee, hissing at the pain filtering up and down his leg.

"There is. What I'm getting at is I'll be here, to help you correct this mistake. This mess." Jamie sighed, deflating into his seat. He didn't look at Avery, instead focusing out on the obscurity ahead of them, the forest trees swaying in the outdoor breeze. "Jessamine has to be stopped."

Avery grumbled. "But you can't—"

"—the demons need to be stopped, and yes, I can't do much to stop them, but you can't do it alone, Avery." Jamie side-glanced at him. "Ada's prophecy makes it sound like you're on your own in the world and this is your role, bla bla bla... but I say all heroes need a side-kick. Because the side-kick is the one that really does all the work, like with me on our show—"

Avery growled and full-on shoved Jamie this time. But both smiled, both relaxed with their playfulness.

"Seriously," Jamie continued, "you need me. And you know I can't leave you on your own. You'll butcher it." He ducked before Avery could hit him. "You need someone to help, man. Don't refuse me, okay? You don't have a choice, anyway."

Grateful as he was for Jamie's friendship, Avery grimaced as he turned away from him. He didn't want help, and didn't think he needed it. Jessamine was his problem, and she had a link with him, not Jamie. There was nothing Jamie could do but stand on the sidelines and cheer him on.

Cheer me on to kill a woman I have feelings for.

A blur of blue whooshed past Avery's window. Ada—she zoomed over to hover over the windshield, her eyes slanted as she scowled at them. Her figure showered the car in an eerie blue glow, as if the car were about to be teleported via some magical tunnel to another world.

"What did we do now?" Jamie groaned.

"Get out of the car," she said, raising her voice so they'd hear her. Her hands were on her hips, and her silvery hair blew behind her as she darted sideways, pointing a finger at Avery's car door. She gritted her teeth, and a burst of energy shot over and yanked the door open. "We need to talk."

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