Demon Moon

mind holding this penlight for me?
    That wouldn’t go over well. Nor would Savi’s assurance that it would all be unnecessary if Michael and Selah arrived. I know a couple of humans who’ve been given angelic superpowers and Gifted with an ability to teleport; they can pop right into the plane and teleport the fiend away faster than you can blink. You probably won’t even notice .
    No.
    A blanket over her lap hid evidence of her not-quite-terrorism, if not the movements beneath it. Perhaps the flight attendant would think she was masturbating.
    Dammit. That’s what she should have told Colin she’d be doing in her final hour: imagining Michael’s face as she brought herself to multiple orgasms.
    The insult to his vanity would’ve probably made his head explode.
    “What are you doing, naatin ?”
    “Trying to find my power inductor, Nani.” Savi ignored her grandmother’s exasperated sigh and waited until she closed her eyes again. Nani had the ability to nap anytime, anywhere—within moments her breathing deepened, and a soft snore came from her throat.
    Savi hooked her fingers in the gap between the battery housing and the power supply, clenched her jaw, and pulled with steady pressure. The plastic was the same as the outside casing, resistant against impact.
    It finally cracked; she gasped in pain, then worked loose the small, flat piece and removed it. Her nail had torn in half. Fighting tears, she sucked on her fingers until the sting eased.
    At least the injury was useful; she’d need the blood later.
    The inductor retained the heat from its use, and it was probably better to unwind the wire while it was warm. No time to let it cool, anyway. It must be done slowly and carefully—a single kink in the thin length would ruin everything.
    Another steady pull around the inductor’s copper coil; this one was more difficult. Tiny screws held the inductor in place. They wouldn’t give, but the iron bobbin in its plastic seat would.
    Maybe. If her hand didn’t give first; it already cramped from the awkward position and the force she applied. The edge of the broken casing cut into her knuckle, then suddenly sliced deeper as the bobbin snapped free. Oh god, oh god . She could barely move her fingers, so badly did they ache.
    Breathing shallowly between her teeth, she used the nail of her left forefinger to find the end of the wire. It had been sealed, but she picked at it until the tip came free of the spool. Twenty-four gauge copper wire, seventy-five wraps around the bobbin. Almost two meters. She’d ordered it to those specifications less than two months before. The wire was thicker than a typical inductor coil, but she’d wanted to see how it performed with international voltage.
    Not well; it fluctuated and overheated too easily. But it was as thick as piano wire, if not as sturdy—the tensile strength one-tenth that of steel.
    It should work; the only real question was if she was strong enough, quick enough.
    Probably not. But she had to try.
    She gingerly placed the laptop beneath her seat and began unrolling the wire. Glanced at her slim gold watch. Twenty minutes.

    Savi knew very little about magic. She knew nothing of how the symbols worked, only that they did. Silence. Surround. Lock . Hugh had shown them to her for an emergency and explained the rules: the lock was keyed to the blood of whomever cast it. That person could go in and out as they pleased. Anyone else inside when the spell had been cast could leave, but not return. If no one remained inside or the symbols were destroyed, the spell broke.
    And no one outside could hear through, enter, or break through the surround. No being could—but fire, flood? The structure was not impervious to damage from natural sources, including gravity and the crushing pressure of the Atlantic.
    She wound the copper into a huge coil, slipped it over her neck. It had taken her five more minutes to prepare it than she’d anticipated.
    “Nani!”
    She didn’t wait for her grandmother to come fully awake before pulling on the older woman’s arm.
    “ Naatin , what—”
    “I cut myself,” Savi said quickly. “Help me in the bathroom?”
    The restroom was vacant, thank god. She’d have hated to walk past the nosferatu bleeding like this. She pushed her grandmother in ahead of her, turned, and locked the door. Her earring post barely made a scratch in the plastic, but it was enough. She finished it with a dab of blood over each symbol.
    Silence.