"No."

Avery wanted to get up, but his legs wouldn't seem to cooperate. A cold chill crawled up the back of his neck, and he was glued to the seat, being swallowed by the cushions.

"No, she's dead. She has to be. The house exploded, Louise. With her inside. We didn't see her get out—I didn't see her get out. Did you, Jamie?" He stared at Jamie, who froze, as if having to think about it; he then slitted his eyes and shook his head. "Right, so there's no way she's alive. No way."

"There is a way," said Louise, walking around the coffee table to sit where Jamie had been sitting previously. "Because she caused that explosion, and I'm willing to bet my life on that. She caused it by unleashing the demons, as planned. Since you, idiot boy," she glowered at Avery, "let her inside, remember? You never confirmed it, but that's what happened, isn't it?"

Jamie grunted, heaving himself up onto the couch. "Yeah, he did. He wouldn't let me kill her to stop her from getting inside."

Louise winced. "Well, Jamie, your impulsiveness—killing her—would have worsened the situation, actually."

Jamie raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean? It would have rid us of the problem."

Avery growled. "Jessamine isn't a problem, you back-stabbing—"

"—Didn't the prophecy say something about killing her in front of the door?" Louise jut her finger at Avery, shushing him, while keeping her gaze focused on Jamie. "Or pushing her in? That it had to be the one specific man to do it—meaning Avery? No," she tutted, reaching over the coffee table to fetch her mug, "nothing else would have worked. You were both idiots."

Jamie's eyes widened and his mouth gaped open in offense, but he said nothing. He also knew that to defy Louise, to tell her she was wrong, was a bad move.

Avery, however, wouldn't let Louise's insult be the last of their discussion. He didn't growl again, but a suppressed irritation began to flow through him. "She wouldn't let us stop her, Louise. Wouldn't let us go back in with her, either. We'd been in there, we could have accompanied her... but she used some weird energy magic shit to shove us out of her way." His fists bunched as he recalled the power Jessamine had exuded, how easily she'd tossed him and Jamie aside, as if they were light as feathers.

Louise sat back in her seat and held her mug close to her chest. "So she was already enticed by them, then." She sucked her lips in and peered into the still scalding liquid coating her chin with steam. "Those things were already calling to her. They'd been calling to her, I could tell when I held her hand. Her aura was distant, polluted. Something beyond her grasp, beyond my grasp was reaching out to her, beckoning her. I... heard them too, inside her mind, though at the time I wasn't sure what I was hearing."

"Fuck," said Avery, getting to his feet to start pacing by the couch. There was little room, but he needed the exercise, needed to get blood flowing in his legs again. His fingers were trembling, his spine tingling, and every time Louise spoke, he wanted to scream.

Because she was about to hurl some truths at him and Jamie, and it was going to hurt, he knew it. She was always right, and there was never any way to understand how or why.

Her gaze went to the ceiling. "You never should have gone there, either of you. And you never should have brought her, dragging her into danger like that. This," she gaped at Jamie, then Avery, "is on you, boys. Whatever happens now is a direct result of what you've done. Or what you failed to do."

"What he did." Jamie groaned, folding his arms and huffing like a spoiled child. "Because I had nothing to do with it. It was his plan, he was the one who brought Jessamine into it. I didn't want her to go, I didn't want to go to that house. But when Avery decides," he rolled his eyes, "Avery gets whatever he wants."

Avery gave Jamie the finger, but Jamie ignored him, continuing to throw his little tantrum. It was a common occurrence; some of their shared friends said they fought like a married couple, though they were in fact more like brothers.

Amy—she was the one who said that.

Avery shuddered, then refocused on Louise. "Fine, we fucked up. So what the heck do we do now, then, to fix it?" He set his hands on his hips, stopping his pacing. "Do we go around the country and hunt Jessamine down? She'll be possessed by tons of demons by now, right?" He scrubbed the top of his scalp, sensing his buzzed hair growing back, prickling his palm. "Where will she go? What will she do? If we caused this, then we have to stop it, don't we?"

"No." Jamie shivered and swiped a hand across the air. "No, fuck that, dude. She'll probably rip our throats out if we go near her. We did mess up, you messed up, but we can't go after her."

Louise wagged a finger in the air and pinched her lips. "You're right, you can't go after her... yet. You might have to, eventually, but you need to approach this delicately. With some planning—don't go running in head-first like you did when you brought her to the house with you."

Avery refrained from kicking at the coffee-table. "How?"

He was all ears, open to almost any option, but if Jessamine was indeed alive and he was responsible for having let her guzzle up all the demons in that basement, how was he supposed to redeem himself? How was he supposed to confront her, and then kill her, since he hadn't had the gall to do it before?

"There must be a way, there always is. Prophecies..." Louise grabbed at her chin, kneading her fingertips into her dark skin. "They can be undone. Or sometimes there's a different prophecy that accompanies the original one. One that would allow the opportunity to fix what's been mishandled by the first."

Avery squinted at her, sensing his eyebrows bunching. "Huh? Since when do you know so much about prophecies?"

Louise placed her mug back on the coffee table and stood up. She smiled; a sly, sneaky smile that Avery knew she reserved for when she knew something he didn't. Which happened quite often, of course.

"The paranormal and the weird are my specialty, kid. Don't forget that." She shimmied over to a bookcase near the fireplace, and tapped the edges of a few book spines before pulling one large, burgundy covered tome out. She blew a film of dust off its front and wrinkled her nose, likely holding in a sneeze. From where he stood, Avery couldn't tell what the title was, but the font was in an ancient-looking cursive. "And I read a lot."

She kept the book under her arm as she bustled over to her bedroom, then returned with another similarly sized book, and deposited both on the table. She then busied herself in the kitchen, seemingly fixing something to eat for all of them. It smelled like eggs and potatoes, and Avery wondered why she'd cook them breakfast when they'd likely unleashed a shit-ton of evil on the world. Didn't she hate them? Wasn't she disappointed?

Of course, she was, but that was Louise—nurturing, motherly, and authoritative. If they refused to eat her offered meal, they'd incur her wrath, and that wasn't something Avery would ever want to do. Louise was a fierce ally, and likely their best shot of rectifying their error of letting Jessamine go free.

So he stayed in his spot, sulking in silence, avoiding Jamie's glares and mumbles of how he'd been right and Avery had been wrong.

Twenty or so minutes later, Avery noticed a faint light pouring in from behind the curtains. Day was rising, and with it, their responsibilities. Yet there they were, waiting to be served a full service breakfast by the only woman who had answers for them.

Louise summoned them to the kitchen table, and neither Avery nor Jamie dared refuse her. Once they were seated in front of steaming plates of, as Avery had predicted, eggs and potatoes, with a side of sausage, Louise poured them some coffee. That, Avery hadn't smelled, which told him something was up with his senses. He loved coffee, especially Louise's earthy, cinnamon blend that she got from some unknown destination; how hadn't he caught the scent of it brewing?

"Yeah, you're distraught, I know," said Louise, seeing his surprise as she set the mug of java before him. "That's why I did this; made you food, made you coffee. You fucked up, like you said, but there will be a way to redeem yourself. It'll be hard, gruesome, even. So you need to be prepared."

Jamie started shoveling eggs into his mouth as if he hadn't eaten in days. "How?"

"And what would you possibly have read that can help us, Louise? This isn't some everyday situation that you'd see in most books, is it?" Avery brought the cup to his nose and took in the aroma with a slight grin.

"Look, kid." She dropped into the seat beside him, and deflated as if she'd been pricked by a needle after years of being swelled up with air. "I live out here in a cabin in apparently haunted woods, so when the FBI isn't calling on me, what else can I do but read and research? I've watched never before released documentaries and footage, I've gotten a hold of some of the most obscure books that you wouldn't even know existed. The FBI has given me access to some pretty screwed up files, too, and I've scoured them for hours on end. So trust me when I tell you I know my shit, boy. And you'd do better to sit back and listen to me from time to time."

Avery gulped, then took a few gulps of the fresh coffee, letting its warmth trickle down his throat. "Okay," he swallowed, sighed, then set the mug down, "so then, all-knowing one, what next? What do your books and knowledge tell us?"

Louise gave him a pointed look. She didn't like being mocked, and Avery had definitely implied as much by calling her all-knowing one.

She put her elbows on the table, joining her hands under her chin. "You need to start by going back to that house, to that portal." Avery gasped, and Jamie paused in his meal-devouring to stare at her in disbelief. "Yes, I know, it sounds dangerous, but I actually expect you'd be safer there than you think. I doubt Jessamine would return to the scene of her crime any time soon."

"Okay. Okay, let's say you're right." Avery picked at his food, unsure where to start, and unsure if his stomach would settle long enough for him to eat any of it. He still ached internally from processing Amy's death, then Jessamine's, then finding out Jessamine wasn't dead, but she'd likely make him dead if she found him. "What are we supposed to do there? Search for clues? What clues can you find in a burnt down house?"

Louise snapped at him. "Stop being a smart-ass." She took Avery by the wrist, directing his fork deeper into the food. "You need to seek the one who told you of the prophecy."

"The Guide?" Jamie swallowed his bite. "Ada, I think her name was?"

"Whatever her name is, yes." Louise peeked at Jamie's already half-empty plate and looked ready to chuckle, but she held in her amusement. "Speak with her, if she's still active. Alive. She'll be the one to provide you with the most information, since she created the prophecy, hm? You'll have to offer your help to her, confess to her that you're part of the reason those demons were able to get out. Together, you'll have to come up with a game plan."

Avery wrinkled his nose. "Team up with her? That's unlikely. She wasn't friendly. I doubt she'd let us help her. More so if she knows we had something to do with all this."

"You don't have a choice," said Louise, placing a warm hand over Avery's. Her touch was gentle, but there was still a firmness to how she pinned his palm to the table, ensuring he wouldn't dare remove himself from her grasp. His other hand still gripped the fork, still submerged in the eggs. "She must already be aware of what you did. And she'll know the demons best, right? So she'll know what they want, how to locate them, and if there's any way to stop them. She's who you need to talk to, so finish eating, then put on your big boy panties and assume the consequences of your actions. I want you out of here as soon as the sun is fully risen."

Louise didn't give either of the men a chance to protest, and disappeared into her room while they finished eating. Well, Jamie finished; Avery barely managed five bites before he had to put his fork down and pat his belly as pain roared within it. Pain from anxiety or anguish or sorrow, he couldn't tell, but he didn't like it, and doubted eating would make it any better.

Jamie took his plate and dropped it into the sink, then looked at Avery's with disapproval. "She's going to yell at you," he said, softly, glancing towards her bedroom. "And you do need your strength, man. We don't know what's ahead of us."

Avery grimaced. "I can't eat." He pushed his dish of food away, trying not to gag. "Too much shit going on in my head, man. If I force it down, it'll come back up."

Jamie shrugged, then meandered back to the living room. Avery stayed at the table, drinking the coffee, which was the only thing not worsening his stomach ache. With every sip, he pictured Jessamine sitting across from him, praising him for not adding anything to his java, smiling as she sniffed up the delicate aroma. Her dark hair cascading in waves around her face as she scowled at him, which she'd done a lot of when they'd first met.

She'd loathed him, that much was certain from the start. And yet, he'd caught her ogling him more than once, thinking to be discreet, thinking to hide her curiosity and attraction for him behind a mask of disgust. Avery knew better; he was used to inspiring hatred in others, especially women who thought he wasn't their type.

He always was. That wasn't him being cocky, it was the simple truth that he'd learned in his years of actively flirting with women. Blue eyes that contrasted his dark skin—always a winning combination. A body he worked on with seriousness, wanting to stay in the best possible shape. And a wit to his demeanor, a charm to his voice—anyone caved, including the hard-headed ones like Jessamine.

But he'd lost her. He'd lost, period. Instead of being reasonable, rational, he'd stepped aside and been controlled by his growing feelings for her. He knew he should have followed her into the house, but he'd been so dazed after she'd pushed him that he hadn't reacted fast enough. Neither had Jamie—he could point fingers all he wanted, but he was liable for this mess, too.

"Idiot," said Louise, flurrying back into the kitchen, changed from her robe to a flowy galaxy-colored dress that covered her from neck to toes. "Your loss," she motioned at the food he'd left, "because you needed that."

"Will they even be there?" Avery scraped the remnants of his plate into the trash and put the dish atop Jamie's in the sink. "The Guides? They were inside the house, too. They're not human, not corporeal, but... what if they're gone? What do we do then?"

Louise approached him and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. "One step at a time, Avery. If they're gone, or don't respond to your arrival, then you come back to me and we'll brainstorm."

He cringed, his arms and legs tensing as flashes of the burning house came to mind. "Do we really have to return to that wreckage. Is it safe?"

Louise patted his cheek. "You must return. Safe or not. You unleashed a monster, and now you need to figure out how to lock it up again."

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