Page 1 of Demons In My Head: Exposing the Exiled
Chapter one
Ashland
Long brown hair. Tall black boots. Deep blue eyes. Bunny ears.
Memory flashes kept firing in my brain like fucking bullets as I accessed the safe in my room. I needed to get the enchanted stones from Besmet that I’d been holding onto for years. For exactly this moment.
Bunny blades. The glint of steel sailing through the air.
My hands actually shook as I grabbed hold of the wooden box that was hand-carved with sigils and spelled with wards. I set the box down and placed both of my palms against the wall. I was more upset with Palmer than I wanted to admit. Somehow, she’d gotten fully underneath my skin without me even realizing it, and that pissed me off. I hated looking like a fool. I wanted nothing more than to track her down and force answers from her deceitful mouth. What was the end goal? Had we really just been a mark for her?
Furiously, I whisper-cussed myself out. Sometimes that’s something I needed. A good old-fashioned tongue-lashing. “Fucking snap out of it, you little bitch. You’ve got onegodsdamn thing to do today, and that’s to get the fuck back home. Lock. It. Down.”
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply through my nose. Compartmentalization. Now, I wasn’t saying that it’s the healthiest of coping mechanisms, but sometimes there’s just too much shit. I remembered learning this technique when I was in my early years, and the piece of shit who raised me thought some therapy might be a good idea.
“Visualize each stressor and then visualize a large box. Mentally place everything in the box and close the lid. You’re not going to worry about anything until you take that thing back out of the box.”
That’s what she said, and by gods, it fucking worked. Granted, my therapist really didn’t appreciate it when I’d had enough of her chitty chat gab sessions and I decided quite literally to pick her up and put her in a box, but I digress.
Forty-eight minutes of therapy did wonders for me. Forty-nine? That was over the fucking line.
“Last time you’re going to interrupt my mission, love.” I pictured Palmer, wild and sassy. I pretended she was about to reply to my words, and I picked the entire mind-sized tiny witch up by the back of her shirt with my thumb and forefinger and dropped her kicking and screaming into a large black box. I ignored the glittery pink writing that said ‘Bad Bunny Rabbit Box,’ even though that was difficult for me. My brain was so clever sometimes. The lid slammed shut, and a second later, my eyes opened.
Fucking finally. I could think.
“Ready, Ash?” Felix asked, his voice coming from the doorway.
Determined now, I picked up the box and closed the safe. Grinning, I held up the case that held our tickets home.
“Fuck yeah, Lixy. Let’s do this shit.” I clapped him on the shoulder, and the two of us walked down the hallway to the living room, where the others were waiting.
“Do we have everything we need?” Rhodes questioned, looking at each of us. Excitement was radiating off of him in a way I hadn’t seen in… well, I couldn’t remember the last time.
I nodded. “The stones are in here. All five of us have to be touching the case while we say the spell for it to open.” I placed the box down on the coffee table and put my fingertips on the edge.
“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” Talon said calmly as he made contact with the box. Too calmly.
Misha lifted a dark brow as he pressed his middle finger down in the dead center of the wooden lid. I wasn’t the only one who noticed Talon’s demeanor.
“You good, Tal?” Felix asked, stepping next to his blood brother and making a physical connection with the box at the same time as Rhodes.
Talon sighed and shrugged his shoulders. Quietly.
“He’s big sad,” Misha grumbled.
“We’re all upset about her, Talon. Trust me.” Felix put his arm around Tal’s shoulder. “But right now, we have to focus. We’re going home. Fucking home, brother.”
Talon’s face was possibly the most serious and stern I’d seen since… nope, that memory was definitely deep in its own box in my mind. His jaw ticked, and the poor ginger bastard’s cheeks were bright red and getting redder by the second. Was he going to—oh hell. I clocked the moment his eyes went glassy and he quit blinking. I reacted.
My hand snapped out, and I slapped him right across the face. Everyone jumped. Myself included.
“Ashland!” Rhodes barked.
Talon shook his head and then straightened his spine before looking me dead in the eyes. They weren’t glassy anymore. “Thanks, fucker. I needed that shit.” He grabbed his chest dramatically and released a deep breath. “I expect each and every one of you to promise me you’ll literally slap the tears out of my eyeballs if you see me about to pull some shit like that again.” He bent over the table and took a few more deep breaths, running his hands through his hair before standing upright with a look of total disbelief on his face. “Well, come on then. Let’s get this show on the road. It’s time to go home.”
I’d do anything for these idiots. Slapping them was no problem.
Rhodes rolled his eyes, but then he smiled. Like, a full-on, wide-mouth smile. I grimaced. Didn’t look right. I had Talon over here crying, and now Rhodes was grinning like he wasn’t the most cynical asshole in the universe. I knew what I had to do, and apparently, Misha knew what I was thinking because his hand tightened around my wrist before I could slap that unnatural smile right off Rhodes’ face.
