Grace walked out of her flat. She didn't look back. She got into her car and drove, far away from Stanford, far away from and city or town or people. It would come for her.
This is for my brothers.
After all this time, she still didn't know why it cursed their family. Why it screamed at night beneath her window. Why she was the only one who could see it.
Until those two kids came. She saw the looks on their faces that night. She saw the terror. And she knew that the same terrible, wrenching pain and loss had touched their lives too. The same magic.
Her family. The magic had touched all of them, marking them out to the others, the wraiths and the ghouls and the others that did not approve of mortals somehow taking a slice of their domain.
For Grace Devlin was a witch.
Ever since she was small, she found she could do things. Objects would suddenly appear when she wanted them; things would be moved from one side of the house to the other without anyone seeing who moved them, and she could always get her own back on her brothers if they teased her. As a small child, being able to do these things was a gift, her own special secret.
But as she grew older she began to see the other side. Animals would shy away from her, all but the mangy black cat that used to live on the corner of her street. She had moods swings where she would have gladly clubbed her English teacher around the head, and if she really thought about something, really thought it, like revenge, it would burst out of her like a bubble, trapping the victim and making them prey to her curse.
She did it once, to a girl at school. A preppy cheerleader type. The girl never walked again, and although no one ever traced it back to Grace, it terrified her. This power. Years passed and she tried so hard to escape the call of the supernatural, burying that part deep within her. Hoping that refusing to acknowledge it would make the problem disappear.
But it didn't disappear, and in time she became thankful that it hadn't. For all her brave words, she didn't want to die. Not really. But that still didn't think that being what she was really gave her much of an edge, especially when her brothers had been stronger and better trained, and they died anyway.
The wraith is a being of power, controlled by a greater spirit to do the creature's will. These creatures are shadows, floating amongst our realm with no purpose but that of their masters. They feed on humans, their emotions and their own strength, and without these they would cease to exist.
That was why it was so hard to fight. How did you cease being human?
She stopped the car at the intersection. A crossroads. A centre of supernatural power. She got out of her car and stepped into the dust.
The condemned used to be hung at the crossroads, so their spirits could not come back to be a plague on the living.
And now she was going to join them. Grace knelt down and drew a semicircle in the dust, and flared her fingers. "Secure." She said simply.
The circle did not change. It did not glow or spark, but Grace could feel it. The familiar tinglyness in her fingers, the way it warmed her from the inside. As the magic slowly filled up the circle, she breathed out a sigh of relief.
"You can't stay in there forever." The creature stepped out of the darkness, long leathery wings trailing in the dirt behind it. With it's long, birdlike jaws, you almost expected it to not be able to speak, but it did so, remarkably well. "You have to come out sooner or later."
As Grace watched, it began to shrivel and curl in upon itself, until finally emerged a woman. To add insult to injury, the demon preferred to assume the face of her mother. "Human. Finally you turn to face me. You have magic, but you will still perish as they all did. Compared to me, you are the equivalent of a street magician."
"Then come over here and cross this line, and I'll pull a rabbit out of your arse." Grace snarled.
"So much fire. So much hate. You would make a good wraith, and as one of the legion, you would decimate those that thought to resist you." She smiled, and although the smile was empty, it was so… human.
"Tell me why. Just tell me why." Why did they have to die? And in such ways. Why have you been watching me since the day I was born?Why did you chase me? Me and my brothers. Why? Why? Why?
"You tell me why." The creature said slyly. "Tell me the story that your father gave on his deathbed."
Tell her. It pulled at Grace like a rope. She tried to resist, but eventually the story was dragged out of her. "He said that our family were once the bodyguards of the Kavanaghs of Ireland, a clan of great power and infuence among the Celts. A sorcerer from our family in a great show of strength bound one of the farie women to him to do his bidding. He died refusing to release her."
The sprite smiled. "My, what a nice story. Carefully reproportioning the blame so none are truly at fault. And the ones that are at fault have long been in their graves. Tell me, do you truly believe that fantastic tale of sorcerers and faries?"
It was as if she was reading Grace's mind like a book. "No." Grace said grudgingly. The tale had always seemed too fanciful. Too spotless. Making the generations of Devilns into martyrs.
"No, dear child. The true account is far less blameless." She ran a hand down the front of her grey smoch. "And far more recent. Grace Devlin, I am sixty five human years old."
Grace's mind went blank. If it were telling the truth, she was three years older than her father would have been, had he lived through that last hunt…
"It was your dad. Dear old Connor Devlin." She pointed to herself. "Did you know that I was the last thing your uncle Liam hunted? Mine was the last face he saw, before I tore out his heart. Liam and Connor, the Devlin boys. Never saw one without the other. Always there to back each other up. Always there for each other.
"I was twenty one human years old at the time. You see, I'm still a young demon. Pitifully young in our sense of ageing. I wanted to be a warrior. Fight the surge of scum that was appearing. Take back the lands that were rightfully ours." Her eyes shone with a zealous light. "And so I was sent to the Overworld to prove myself.
"Your first real hunt above ground, you shall bring back the bodies of the brother hunters plaguing the Underdemons along the coast. And the Elders showed me their faces. Red haired and green eyed, the pair of them. They would be hard to miss. And so I went.
"Your family was easy to find. They weren't even trying to hide. By Connor's reckoning, he had done nothing wrong so there was no reason for him to fell ashamed. He always gave you kids the best of everything, although he tried his best to shield you from the truth.
"Then one day I caught them. They were out hunting a Wen-something-or-other, another of the Underdemons. Liam was looking the other way, bless him, and was easily dispatched. Dear old dad was tougher than I expected, though, and as he lay bleeding, he did something I never expected a mortal to do.
"What I never counted on was that the person I was to kill might be gifted. For the sake of the people he risked all for, he bound me tightly to the power in his family. To you. And now you're the only one left. How sad. You know, I quite like the human stories that speak about the last stand. Funny little humans and your funny little traditions."
Grace narrowed her eyes. "If you've read about last stands, then you should know about another tradition we humans are fond of."
The demon narrowed her eyes. "What?" She snapped.
Grace grinned. "The cavalry."
The bolt shot through the air and sank into the banshee's back, lining up neatly underneath the shoulder blade. She hissed and spun around to face her attackers as they leapt deftly from the bushes, crossbows in hand.
"I always knew." Grace said. "You see, young demons are like young children. They like to pretend they're smart, but both are easily fooled." She pointed to the line on the ground. It was then that the banshee noticed it curved the wrong way.
Grace bent, and removed several twigs. The line continued underneath them, making one large, continuous circle. The banshee spun around, the cockiness gone from her face. "No!" She screamed. "A human girl cannot outwit me!"
"Hey, watch what you're saying about human girls." Jo puffed.
It shrieked again, shedding its human guise. Flapping its wings, it rose into the sky.
"Um, I don't mean to be a downer or anything, but can't it fly away?" Sam asked.
"No." Grace replied cheerfully. "It is bound to me, and as long as I will it to remain there, it will." But her eyes were over bright with the strain of maintaining the spell, and soon it would shatter. Jo trained her crossbow on the creature. Glancing at her, Grace suddenly had a further idea. "Jo, give me your watch."
"My watch? What for?"
"Just give it to me."
Jo tossed over the analogue watch she bought for four dollars back in Minnesota. "It's a cheap bit of produce, so I hope it'll do."
Grace peered at the glass face and the ticking hands. She smiled. "It'll be fine." Suddenly she dropped the watch back into the circle with the enraged beast. Sam and Jo watched her actions curiously.
"I now bound you anew." She said. It was a spell worded in her way, but typical phrases snuck in. "From this day you will not be permitted to walk the Overground or the Underground. You will not communicate with any of your kind. You will be restricted and imprisoned, under the glass ceiling." She paused for breath. "Secure."
There was a bright light. Sam and Jo had to look away. The creature screamed one more time, and then all was silent.
Jo looked was the first to look up. "It's gone. Where is it? What did you do with it?"
Grace stepped into the middle of the circle and bent to pick something up. It was Jo's watch, only now the face was fogged with black. Every so often it would move, shifting forward and back. It could not twist itself underneath the smooth glass surface.
"I bound it on its bindings. I was so focused on destroying it that I didn't consider anything else. Now I have all the time in the world to discover how I can destroy it once and for all, no pun intended."
Jo pointed. "It's in there? How the hell did you get it in there?"
Grace smiled. "Magic."
"What are you going to do with it now?"
"Well, it's your watch. You can have it back, if you like." Grace offered it back to her. Jo held up a hand.
"Ta, Professor. But I think I'll pass."
"So your dad really was a hunter?" Sam asked. "How come you…"
"Never became one too? It was too dangerous, wasn't it?"