Suzi steadied herself, standing in the middle of her living room with Darcy still sprawled on the couch, cradling her bloody finger. The sting of their recent brawl seemed to hang in the air. Suzi swallowed against the metallic taste of blood, marched to the bathroom, grabbed a couple of damp towels and gauze, and headed back. She tossed one of the towels and the roll of gauze to Darcy, careful to keep some distance. Ygritte, back from wherever Darcy had blinked her off to, sat next to Darcy, tail wagging but visibly uneasy.

After mopping her own face clean, Suzi rifled through her fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. She hesitated—Darcy’s gaze was still cold and angry—but then tossed the bottle toward her. Darcy snatched it, wincing as she wrapped gauze around her mashed finger.

“Darcy…” Suzi began, voice low and uncertain. “I don’t know—”

Darcy sliced through the attempted apology with a dark glare. “Here’s what I do know,” she snapped. “You’re hiding something. And this?” She flicked her other hand, retrieving the Dagger of Roanove. “This doesn’t work. I should’ve seen your mortal death, but I saw nothing.” Her furious energy hummed as she flicked small knife into the floorboards. “Your eyes changed just before you attacked me—flashed gold. Then you turned into a whole different person. And I know you did something with Jo. She showed up, you both disappeared, then you came back without her. You put her in a pocket to punish me? That it?”

“No—Darcy, I—”

“How the fuck do you even have my Limbo Skipping ability? Bear said you got Everett’s Death Reading from the ring, but then you skipped out on them?”

“I don’t know!” Suzi’s voice went taut, frustration pooling in her chest. “I’m clueless here, just winging it. Jo was here, now she’s in my head, and some fucking Abhorrence demon has her body. It took the ring from me. It must’ve also stolen your ability.”

Darcy’s face flickered with confusion. “That doesn’t make any sense. Jo is in your head?”

“I warned you that you wouldn’t understand,” Suzi ground out.

“Fuck.” Darcy let out a ragged exhale. “Did that demon attack Jo?”

“No, I… I was fighting him. Thought I had him. Then Jo turned up and…” She flailed a hand, feeling the memory hit hard. “It got fucked.”

“Are you sure it’s an Abhorrence Demon?”

Suzi nodded. “That’s what it said. I can’t confirm, but it was a lot stronger than anything I’ve dealt with before.”

Darcy frowned, glaring at the dagger in the floor. “Abhorrence demons are next-level strong. You struggled with a Nightmare Demon—there’s no way you managed to beat one of these assholes alone.”

Suzi inhaled slowly. “We were in the Ether. I was losing, so I yanked it into the Prime Plane. Figured it’d cost him more energy to maintain form here.”

Darcy’s brow lifted, grudging admiration flickering across her face. “Smart. But once you possessed him, you started losing again, right?”

“Pretty much.” Suzi shrugged. “Didn’t occur to me to pocket him. I only realized I could skip on my own after I left Bear and Everett. I’m still figuring it out.”

Darcy rubbed the back of her neck in frustration. “How’d Jo end up in your head, and the demon in Jo’s body?”

“Fuck if I know,” Suzi admitted, voice going hoarse. “I need to… do some mental housekeeping, I guess.”

“Meaning more secrets,” Darcy said flatly, her tone biting. “Did you skip after Jo once she vanished?”

“No,” Suzi murmured. “I closed the door and cried. Then Ellie showed up. Maybe that had some effect?”

“Ellie? The artist’s wife? Did she tell you why she was here?”

“Yeah. She wanted me to watch over Ricky, since she can’t come back now that people suspect she’s not human.”

“No—why she was on the Prime Plane. Who was she working for? What was her end goal?”

“I don’t think she had any ulterior motives other than being with Ricky. She said that it wasn't safe now that people might suspect she’s something other than human.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “So she was only here because she was ‘in love.’ That’s fucking stupid.”

“Darcy.” Suzi leveled a look. “Why are you here?”

That seemed to poke at Darcy’s conscience. Her lips parted—ready to retort—then she stopped, deflating. Finally, she spoke again. “Fine,” she said gruffly. “You do your ‘meditation,’ figure out whatever. Then meet me at HQ, and we’ll get Jo back.”

Before Suzi could respond, Darcy flexed her jaw and vanished in a crisp skip. The apartment felt bigger and emptier without her. Suzi let out a long sigh, then flopped onto the couch. Ygritte nuzzled up, letting Suzi lean on her for a moment. Gently, Suzi extricated the Dagger of Roanove from the floor, mumbled its name, and pulled it back into her body in a golden shimmer.

That was done. She dragged herself to her bedroom and collapsed on top of the sheets, mind spinning. She’d rather just pass out, but the need for answers pressed her. She propped herself against the headboard, pillows on either side, and closed her eyes, focusing on slowing her breathing.

Guillermo was in chaos: Suzanne and Annie hovered around a tiny, curly-haired girl, who sobbed wretchedly. Judith and James stood a few feet away, trying to referee a screaming match between J and Judas. Meanwhile, Ralph and Spike glided around, cleaning up scattered debris Suzi didn’t even recognize.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“—he would’ve taken us over, and we’d all be fucked!” J’s voice boomed, eyes flashing.

“We could’ve fought him together,” Judas snarled back.

“And lost, together.”

Suzi pushed through the swirling madness. “Hey,” she said, raising her voice. “Stop it. Jo’s safe here for now. We’ll get her body back.”

“And Judy?” Judas demanded. Silence rushed in, oppressive and unsettling.

Suzi looked around, feeling a hot pang of worry. “What about her? Where is she?”

The memories flickered: Judy was in the demon’s grip right as Suzi pushed the demon into Jo’s body. The plan had succeeded—kind of—but the demon had taken Judy along for the ride.

“Okay,” Suzi said slowly, “so Judy’s with the demon in Jo’s body, and Jo’s consciousness is here. She’s safe, right?”

“Theoretically,” Judas said. “But if the demon stays in her body too long, it’ll get harder to remove, and Jo might lose her connection.”

“How long do we have?” Suzi asked, anxiety twisting her gut.

“No clue,” Judas replied with bleak honesty. “But we’re talking days at best.”

J shot Judas a furious look. “If we didn’t cut her loose, he would’ve possessed us.”

“That’s enough,” Suzi said firmly. “No one’s blaming anyone. We made a call. Now Darcy’s blaming me, but she’ll help us if it means saving Jo and getting Judy back.” She rubbed her temples in frustration. “I guess it’s time to come clean and tell them about you guys.”

Judith’s voice softened. “You’ve never told anyone but Aiden, and…that was half-lost in the shuffle.”

“I know,” Suzi murmured. “But we need all the help we can get. Dr. Everett, Bear, Darcy—they need to know.”

She watched the flurry of personas drift to their shattered rooms, exhaustion on their faces. Then Suzi let go, spiraling out of Guillermo back into the real world.

Her phone was buzzing—a text from Nick. She swiped it open. ‘Suzi- This is Nick. There’s been an accident. A VIP. I know you are not on call, but I need you to come in. It’s urgent.’

“Fuck,” she muttered. “I have to keep up appearances and ensure he knows he can rely on me.”

She understood Nick’s code: VIP meant the deceased was someone influential. She typed back a quick response: ‘10-4. BRT.’

She rubbed her face, glanced at her immaculate clothes. Ellie’s magical cleaning still held, but Suzi needed to rinse off the lingering heaviness in her bones. A short but scalding shower later, she tugged on fresh-pressed slacks and a blouse—thank you, Ellie—and grabbed her purse, phone, and keys.

On the way out, she paused in the hallway, reconsidering just jumping through limbo to the funeral home though Nick would wonder why her truck was missing if she beat him there. Better to drive.

She hopped into the pickup and let the engine idle, checking her phone. Another text from Nick: ‘What? LOL.’

A small grin tugged at her lips, because of course he didn’t know BRT. He might text like a champ, but half the acronyms still baffled him. Still, for a man who practically refused to keep up with modern technology, Nick was doing better than she ever would’ve guessed. As she typed out a smiley face and “Be Right There,” a pang of worry flickered in her mind—if he wouldn’t let her save him, the least she could do was make sure he knew he mattered before time ran out.

Pulling into the funeral home’s lot, she immediately noticed an unfamiliar sedan parked in employee territory. It could be the VIP’s family, but it looked weirdly out of place. She cut the ignition, grabbed her bag, and stepped out, halfway lost in speculation—could Nick have splurged on a new car?

The ping of an incoming text yanked her attention, freezing her with one foot on the pavement and one in the cab. She leaned in to check: ‘Yes, but be right where?’ The message from Nick made her chuckle an ironic laugh—one of them was clueless.

Her heart skipped, though, at a sudden, stinging pinch on her upper arm. She whirled, confusion sparking into alarm, and found herself staring at a man in a Guy Fawkes mask. His gloved hand clutched a syringe, its needle dripping. She opened her mouth, maybe to scream or curse, but a warm, woozy wave crashed over her vision. The world blurred, and then she slumped, passing the fuck out before any sound could escape.

* * * * *

Suzi’s skull felt like it was splitting down the middle. A muffled groan escaped her lips as she realized she was lying down, enveloped in darkness and noise. Something about the cramped space felt wrong. Dim red light glowed near her feet, painting everything in a hazy, ominous tint. Instinct told her to sit up, but the instant she tried, her head cracked painfully against a slab of metal.

“Fuck!” she gasped, hand flying to her forehead. Another wave of nausea hit, compounding the throbbing already racking her skull.

A sudden jolt rocked her body backward. I’m moving? she realized belatedly. The jolting eased into a stop, and she felt the car shift into park. Her heart thumped; whoever had her was getting out. Footsteps crunched on gravel, moving toward the trunk. No ropes held her wrists or ankles, no gag in her mouth—still, she knew she’d been kidnapped.

Think fast. She groped blindly around the trunk for any weapon. Nothing. The latch clicked, and she braced herself. This fucker was about to open the decklid; if she was free, she could at least try to run or fight. Judas once took down a cop in handcuffs—how bad could this guy be?

“Judas?” she tried, voice slurred, searching for her inner warrioress. Silence. The drug in her system must’ve muffled the entire realm of her mind.

Light split her vision as the trunk opened, making her squint. A figure loomed above—Guy Fawkes mask, same as she remembered before blacking out. “I’m surprised you’re awake,” said a voice, distorted by an electronic modulator. “That was horse tranquilizer. Then again, you also lasted longer than expected from the spiked champagne last night. Must have a high tolera—”

Suzi lunged. Fuck subtlety. Her legs coiled, launching her out of the trunk. She pictured a badass movie move: tumbling smoothly to her feet, ready to bolt or brawl. Reality was far clumsier, however. Her face smacked gravel as her legs still hung half in the trunk. Grit stung her palms. Hissing in frustration, she scrambled free, flailing to her knees, arms wobbling under her own weight.

All the while, the masked man just stood there, watching, unimpressed.

Still determined, she pulled her feet free and scrambled to her knees. Suzi felt this was quicker, but in reality, it took about five seconds as she skated and skittered, trying to find her footing.

But find her footing, she did. The man was still standing beside the car, with a blank expression on his masked face. He hadn’t moved.

“Ha ha, fucker! You weren’t expecting that!” she thought confidently to herself.

She thought she was running. She felt like she should have been running. Air was definitely moving, but as she looked down, her right foot was caught behind her left ankle, and gravity was doing the rest of the work for her. She face-planted again.

Her vision pinwheeled. Exhaustion chewed at her muscles.

“Please, don’t fight,” the voice said calmly, stepping around the open trunk. “The tranquilizer is still in your system. You’ve probably used all the adrenaline you had left.”

“Who are you?” she managed to shout, half slurring. “What do you want?”

She wanted to fight. Her mind screamed to run, but her body felt heavy. She’d barely made it ten feet from the trunk. Every breath felt heavier than the last. And then she felt another sting in her shoulder. This time, she didn’t even see the syringe—just the sting, then the warmth creeping into her veins.

She vaguely felt his arms slip around her waist as her legs collapsed. Darkness beckoned, and she sank into it, unconscious.