Jessie pulled onto a narrow gravel road that led to a cemetery three miles away from Walt and Tillie’s house. She drove west, watching the last of the sun’s rays extinguish, her fingers tightening on the steering wheel. Once dusk fell, she would summon the archdemon.

For so long, she’d wanted to fully embrace her JBlaze persona. To not feel so damn self-conscious all the time. She’d thought that when she finally managed to feel that way—on the clock and off—she would have ‘arrived.’ Then, life would be perfect because she’d never have to wonder if she measured up. Would never feel insecure or unlovable again.

And that she might actually be worth the love of an intelligent, charismatic man like Nate.

Jessie squinted at the cemetery’s shadowy headstones as they came into view. Those markers were all that was left of individuals. Young or old, rich or poor, extroverted or shy. No matter when or how they’d died, they’d probably all wanted the same things as their life slipped away.

Love. Understanding. A sense of belonging. The knowledge that their life mattered.

Maybe she’d been looking at all of this through the wrong lens.

No one was immune to insecurity. No one walked through life completely confident or without fear. It just wasn’t possible.

Perhaps how one chose to fight that insecurity was what made the difference. Her mother had chosen chemical remedies. Her uncle had gone with an evil antidote. Nate’s original panacea was aggression, dominance, and manipulation.

But he’d been overcoming that. Not perfectly, of course, but God, no one was perfect.

Not even Heaven’s chosen Guardians.

What redress should she seek to overcome her insecurities? She needed to believe in her own self-worth. Nate did. Even though he’d never said the words, all of his actions told her that he loved her unconditionally. He accepted her and all her faults. All her darkness.

I’m so scared. She looked across the acres of headstones and wished she was anywhere but here. What if Asmodeus had already killed her grandparents, and she’d only be playing right into the Hell Prince’s hands? The look on Nate’s face back at the club had suggested this was highly probable.

Still, she couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t at least try to do this. She’d return the relic after her grandparents were safe. And it would work. After all, she had the relic, and Nate had assured her that no death could come to whomever possessed it.

She shoved the relic in her zebra duffel bag, which already held a vial of holy oil and a container of salt. She unlocked her car door and stepped out into the still eventide, the duffel bag firmly in hand. Her sounds of movement amplified in the hushed dusk, the rising moon smaller than what it had been a week ago when Hell had literally broken loose.

She’d picked this cemetery to summon Asmodeus almost without thought. She’d been here in high school with half a dozen friends on a dare. Rumors said the place was haunted. It had been a cool fall night much like this one. Semi-cloudy. Perfectly spooky. When she and her friends had first arrived, they were too wound up to notice anything. Girls and their endless noise. Finally, she’d told them they were going to play the quiet game, and as they complied, Jessie had first noticed it. The sound of a heavy, blunt object striking something metallic and hollow. It wasn’t overly loud, but persistent. It originated next to the twenty-foot, white statue of Christ on Calvary. The sculptor had carved three mourners at the foot of the cross. The one on her knees, most likely Jesus’s mother, Mary.

The Veil of Veronica had been there the day of the statue’s depiction.

Jessie’s friends had linked arms, giggling and utterly oblivious to her alertness. She hadn’t joined their chain, instead walking ahead toward the statue, not because she wasn’t scared, but because something was drawing her there. A deep, yawning chasm of pain that seemed to echo with a cry of despair.

As it was again tonight.

And similar to that night so many years ago, as her footsteps crunched on the gravel path as she approached the large statue, the ambient air temperature warmed. The flagpole next to the statue was still there. Only tonight, there was no spirit banging on it.

She’d never actually seen the figure that had used the pole to reach out across the dimensions to share her pain, but Jessie had felt her back then. Had sensed that the energy was feminine, and had felt an overwhelming sadness for whomever she was. Jessie had been about to reach out and touch the pole when one of her friends saw a bat and screamed, cuing group hysteria. The girls had fled to their loaner minivan before Jessie could tell them they had nothing to fear from the nocturnal animals.

Jessie grasped the duffel to her chest, her fingers numbing with cold in spite of the unexplained warmth near the statue. She stared into the thick wall of forest, wondering if the sad spirit had finally been able to move on. Her car’s headlights cast eerie shadows beyond the numerous small, white cross grave markers that fanned out around the statue in a forty-foot diameter. Some crosses bore no names, but numbers of anonymous patients of a mental institution long ago shut down. She’d researched the hospital after leaving the cemetery that first night, speculating that the young woman banging on the flagpole had probably been a patient there. But her research had unearthed no clues, only more questions.

A soft breeze sifted through the trees, lifting their branches in a subtle wave—a sound that would soothe during the day. At night, yeah, not so much. Especially in light of the fact that a few significant things had changed since high school.

Like witnessing demon possession. Yay.

Funny how fearless youth was. A good thing, she supposed.

Unless you were a parent.

The trees quivered again, and she shivered.

Fight your fear. She had the relic, and by now she knew enough about demons to ensure she wasn’t an easy target for possession.

Still, she couldn’t help glancing back at her car, grateful that the headlights still worked, and praying that they wouldn’t drain the battery. She’d only leave them on for twenty minutes. If she couldn’t do this in that amount of time, she’d find another way to get her grandparents back.

Too bad the relic didn’t give three wishes.

Jessie set the duffel bag in front of the statue and brought out the chrism oil. She kept the duffel within reach, dragging it around as she began sprinkling the oil around the perimeter of the statue, the closest of the white crosses, as well as the flagpole to protect the woman’s spirit if she happened to suddenly return. As Jessie enclosed the final portion of the makeshift circle, the temperature raised considerably, providing relief to her cold, achy fingers. The wind picked up in earnest now, fluttering the American flag on the pole.

She cleared her throat and spoke forcefully into the night, looking up at the image of the man on the cross. “I ask everything that is good and right in the universe to guard me as I face this evil tonight.” The duffel bag vibrated at her feet.

Alright, shit’s gettin’ real.

Next she pulled out the salt and scattered it in the grass within her circle. Please let this work. A banging started, the wind pulling the flag taut. Goosebumps broke out across her arms. She squinted into the shadows near the flag pole. “I mean no harm to anyone or anything. All I want is my grandparents’ safe return.”

An echoing howl eased through the atmosphere as though filtered through a long tunnel. Her heart squeezed like it only ever had in Nate’s presence. What did that mean? She turned in a rapid circle looking for him. But no, it was only forest beyond the statues, crosses, and larger headstones.

How she wished he was here.

She dashed at her eyes and picked up her duffel bag, holding it across her chest.

Now what? Was she supposed to call his name? She exhaled heavily, looking up at the gauzy night sky, wondering if she should be looking downward instead. “Asmodeus, Prince of Hell, I have a deal for you.”

Nice, Jess. That sounded like a script for a class B melodrama. She was about to open her mouth with a better summons when her car headlamps went dark, and the wind suddenly ceased.