Page 70 of The Demon's Fire
About a half hour later, Margo awoke more lucid.
Chay jumped right in with questions. “They took your blood? You’re sure?”
She nodded.
“Fuck. We need to fly this coop. Myfreronsshould’ve found us. It makes no sense.”
“Yeah. Something’s strange.” She paused to think about her statement. “Hah! I mean, something’s stranger. Vampires, ylves, witches, another realm aren’t weird enough.” She waved a dismissive hand through the air. “Anyway. Cellphones are dropping calls, televisions are on the blink, and radios are staticky.”
After the door flew open, the demon strutted into the outer room. Margo slapped her hands to her ears when “Devil’s Child” played. “Not again.”
“Hello?” The demon held his phone at arm’s length, shaking it. “Damn interference.” He rotated toward the radio. Static. “Maybe sunspots are messing with shit.” He left, muttering.
Chay rubbed his chin. “Give me the play by play again, Red.”
Both Margo and the incudick thought something was strange.He was beginning to agree.
“The radio’s wonky. Their cellphones are screwy. The TV in the syringe room is snowy.”
Chay eyed the radio on the desk outside their cell. It was playing okay now. Still country-western shit. “You’re sure you didn’t dream this?”
She tried to pinch his thigh. “Yes, I’m sure.”
“Was a warlock or witch with them?”
“Only the two guys who kidnapped us. I’m positive.”
Chay paced to the end of his chain, scratching his head.
It makes no sense unless … unless.Impossible. No, not impossible, just improbable. Still, who else could it be?
He turned to stare at Margo. When he tapped his wrist where his D-chip was embedded, the signal went dead-live-dead-live.“Red, we’re gonna try a science experiment. Come here.” Chay clutched her shoulders, pointing her toward the desk outside their cell. “This will sound crazy, but … concentrate. Try to whammy the radio.”
Margo giggled. “You’ve lost it, ylve man. You want me to whammy…”
Chay nodded.
“…the radio.”
“Yes. I want you to make it go wonky. I think you can, and I understand these things better than you do.”
“This is lame.” She faced the radio, straightening her arm, using her index finger like a magic wand. “Abracadabra.” Garth Brooks continued singing his tune. “Surprise, no whammy.”
Chay cradled her face in his large hands. He angled his head, touching his lips to hers, his tongue tracing the full softness of her mouth. When she let him in, he tasted her sweet, sassy flavor. With reluctance, he released Margo and stepped back.
“You’ve got no reason to trust me, Red, but I wish you would. If we don’t get out of here, they’re probably going to kill me. I’m okay with that. I signed on to be a warrior. If they ex me, though, I won’t be here to protect you. I’m not okay with that. So give it a shot. We’ve got nothing to lose.”
When she tried again, eyes closed, lips squeezed together, Garth’s voice quivered but never went silent.
Again. Again. Once more. No change.
Margo flopped her cute ass onto the bed, her hands rubbing her temples. “I told you so.” She brushed away tears. “I don’t want you to die.”
Chay nudged her over, tossing an arm across her shoulders. He pulled her close. “Please, once more.” His heart banged in his chest. “Try for me, Red.”
She sniffled, pushed to her feet, stared at the radio for a few moments. She wiggled her fingers. “Stop.”
Garth paused … sang a few beats … paused again.
