Our Demonic Hearts - The Craven Pact Book 1

Chapter 24: Crescendo

Another slash into the wood, and the spellwork started to fizzle.

Ana stepped away from the porch as it started to spark. It glowed for just a moment like a cheap, underwhelming firework before the carvings faded from view. Marchosias would surely sense his spell being ruined and get mad...but he still didn't come. Even when she waited for thirty minutes on the porch, scrolling through her phone.

Ana was pissed. More than pissed. She thought of everything she could to grab the attention of Marchosias, and he still did not come. She used the summoning spell again, and now she ruined the spellwork carved into the porch. Nothing was working. Nothing ever worked.

Logan had been spamming her phone for the past two days, since the morning after Deacon's death. Ana hadn't told her anything, but she swore her best friend had a sixth sense. That, or Ana had just been ignoring her for too long. She sent many texts to Logan insisting she was fine, but Logan wanted to call her. Ana, unfortunately, was in a sour mood and didn't trust herself enough not to say anything rude.

Her anger and sour mood is what lead to the spellwork on the porch being destroyed. If Marchosias didn't want to check on her like he should be doing, then he can forget about his stupid barrier spells. Now Ana stood on the porch, tapping her foot as she thought about what to do next. She wanted something to yell at, specifically Marchosias, but unfortunately he was not here. She had no way to vent her anger that was more healthier than punching glass(a bad habit developed after the incident) or smoking cigarettes.

Cigarette. Her fingers twitched, and she looked at the old ashtray sitting on the patio table. She hadn't felt this stressed and angry since before she first started smoking. It was a good stress reliever, and one of the few things that helped her cope with everything that happened. She knew she used to hide packs of smokes in places, just in case she ran out. Maybe she still had some—

No. She quickly shook her head and sat down on the chair next to the patio table. Six months of staying clean, and she was going to throw it all way just because Marchosias wasn't giving her attention and her friends with benefits is dead? No. She's better than that. She's stronger than that. What would her mother think if she found out she went back to smoking? Ana already felt like a disappointment for all the shitty things she's been doing lately, she can't add smoking on top of it.

A pair of footsteps crunched against the gravel driveway, and Ana lifted her head to look at her visitors. Beau and Judas walked toward her, the latter trailing a few feet behind, dragging his feet like a little kid throwing a tantrum.

"Fucking shit..." Ana stood and lifted the back of her shirt. She touched the tattoo and as soon she felt the solid weight of the gun in her hand, she pulled down the hammer and aimed it at Judas.

He raised his hands and took a few steps back. "See? I told you she was gonna go fucking crazy!"

"You're on my property," Ana murmured, looking down the barrel of the gun. "I have every right to shoot your damn head off."

"Just—" Beau stepped in front of Judas, his hands also raised. "Can we all calm down? Can you lower the gun, so I can say what I have to say?"

"It better be that you're leaving. If not, then you can turn right around and fuck off."

"Can you actually shoot that, though?" Judas moved from behind Beau. "Or is it all for show?"

She aimed the revolver at Judas again with an eyebrow raised. "You willin' to test that theory?"

"Gladly!" Judas moved away from Beau with his hands raised. "And I don't mean in the foot like you did with that boyfriend of yours. In my face, right here."