I couldn't keep you waiting. That, and this was just way fun to write, so I finished it quite early.

So, here it is: Chapter Eight! Woohoo!

Thanks for the reviews and stuff. Or just reading. That, too. :3

AllAmericanSlurp: Muahahahahaha!

Vampire Girl: That's okay. Chase is here now. :3

Moonlit: Despite rumors, caps lock is not cruise – control for awesome. Thanks, though. :3

So, since I'm eager to get on with this one and don't have more to say, I demand that Douglas get out here and start speaking.

"Bossy little….Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers. Happy?"

Very.

"Set this place on fire. Let the flames rise higher. As they reach the ceiling, at your feet I'm kneeling. With every trailing plume, know it bears me home. Let it burn..."

Mad At Gravity, "Burn"

"Being fearless isn't about not being afraid. It is about being totally terrified but still standing up against your fear."

Timothy Tam

Chapter Eight – Don't Play With Demons

Chase

Have you ever had a burn? I imagine quite a few of you have; it wouldn't surprise me. So you might be able to relate when I say that I was grinding my teeth and trying to focus on anything else while Douglas inspected my side. I had caught a glimpse of my lovely war wound on the way home, and it wasn't too bad. Just red and blistered; not all that severe. But it was majorly painful when moved or touched, a fact that had me wincing and trying not to squirm as Douglas finally started rubbing something - wait, it smelled like aloe vera; cancel that "something," I knew what it was - on it gently. It still hurt like a bitch, but it couldn't really be helped. Besides, the worst of the sting was fading with the aloe, anyways.

"You should just let him suffer," Oly advised. "Let him learn a lesson about just watching a spark rain down at him instead of moving."

"I think I got it," I responded, rolling my eyes. In hindsight, I really should have moved out of the way.

Douglas - who had moved on to applying bandages to my side - paused long enough to gently cuff the side of my head. "You better have it," he muttered. "You can get killed doing stupid things."

As I rubbed where he had hit me - more for effect than out of any pain - I found my eyes drawn to Azazel's Bane. It was resting on the table among the papers, some of which Douglas had managed to decode. When Oly showed the amulet to him, he had immediately launched into a rant about staying hidden, the opposite of which was accomplished when we stole the thing. Then his lecture had segued somehow into the fight Oly and I had gotten into and the missing piece of ear he had located. It was followed by the strangest disciplinary action I'd ever dealt with: Oly and I were holding hands. For an hour. And, because it was an order, Oly couldn't let go, which meant we couldn't release each other when he wasn't looking and my voice was trying to tell me what to do.

You should bite her hand off at the wrist, it suggested.

I sighed. Don't tell me what to do, voice.

At first, when he had initially told us to hold hands, I had almost laughed in Douglas' face. Now, though, I was swearing silently never to fight Oly again because it was uncomfortable to have her practically glued to me. I wasn't quite sure about the thieving, though. It turned out to be a bit of a rush once we got away from the house. The excitement of getting something you wanted coupled with the thrill of possibly being caught was awesome. No wonder Douglas did it sometimes: It was fun.

Huh; never thought I'd say something like that.

Am I a bad influence?

Nah. You people are smart enough not to steal things, right?

Maybe?

If you get arrested, don't mention my name! That's called "accessory to a crime" and I'm not going down for you criminals!

I was snapped back into reality when Douglas grinned and put a Band-Aid over the end of my torn ear just to mess with me - I hated having my ears touched; they were mine, damn it! - even though it had already scabbed over nicely. I protested immediately, pulling it off with a wince as it ripped out a few strands of fur. "Get this bitch-sticker off of me!"

"I'm only trying to help," he responded with mock-innocence as he held up another Band-Aid.

I laid my ears back. "I'm good."

"If you insist, I guess," Douglas mumbled, raising his hands up like he was surrendering.

"If it's a bitch-sticker, then you need all you can get, Half-Breed," Oly snickered.

I reached forward, took the Band-Aid from Douglas' hand and proceeded to stick it right on the tip of Oly's beak. She started muttering and scratching at it while I returned my focus to Douglas, who was watching this with amusement. "What was the answer to the key?" I asked, nodding towards the papers.

"You're going to feel like an idiot," he warned. "The letter 'e'."

The letter 'e.' The fucking letter 'e.' I did feel like an idiot. After I sighed heavily, I asked, "Got anything good?"

"Nothing much just yet," he answered. "They imply that Lovett is going to kill two birds with one stone by somehow destroying our family and several other summoners, therefore advancing his position within the Summoner's Council. And it would look like an accident. But I haven't found out where, when and how this is going to happen yet. Haven't found anything about Krane, either."

I nodded a bit again. I was about to ask more questions - specifically about how someone could possibly raise their position in whatever the summoning community was - when Oly barreled into me, knocking me to the floor. I would've been pissed if a fireball hadn't crashed into the wall behind where I had been mere seconds before.

Kind of glad she tackled me. Being roasted alive was not on my to-do list.

"Oly, let go of Chase's hand," Douglas said, almost shouting to be heard over the roar of burning wood and drywall, causing her to let go instantly as Douglas pulled me to my feet. We backed away from the wall rapidly, having to cover our mouths and noses and squint to see anything at all.

For those of you confused, let me help you out: Uncontrolled structure fires were loud. All the crackling and weakening of the supports generated a lot of noise on top of intense heat that often caused glass to shatter or crack as well as blinding light and suffocating smoke. It wasn't at all like a log in a fireplace. It was huge. It was fast. It made our eyes turn red and sting and our lungs burn. It was an extremely overwhelming situation to be thrown into.

And I'll be honest: I was terrified. There's nothing wrong with fear. Fear is what keeps us safe and warns us of danger. So don't be telling macho-assed stories about how you would've handled the situation. I'm sure you would've been afraid, too.

Especially when the front door and windows went up in flames.

It was around this time that the fire started spreading faster than it should have, dancing and roaring as it consumed everything it could, seeming to mix with shadows to make it seem darker and more evil than normal flames.

Douglas shoved my shoulder hard, pointing at the doorway at the stairs. I nodded. If we couldn't go out, we had to go up. Maybe there would be an escape route up there. As I picked up Oly and we took off at a dead run for the stairs - don't do that, by the way; it makes breathing even harder - a massive crash sounded behind us, seeming to shake the whole place. Despite ourselves, we all three looked back for a second. A demon had literally created his own entryway through the wall and was scooping up Azazel's Bane, looking it around his neck.

I didn't even need Douglas to introduce the guy. I knew that Jasper had come to call. His resemblance to the old Egyptian pictures of Anubis – you know, human with the black jackal head thing going on; he had a pair of bat wings, but those weren't on said pictures – had me wondering fleetingly if he had ever convinced an entire population that he was a god. By the way fire was spinning around his entire being like a cloak, incinerating anything that got close but not hurting him due to Azazel's Bane – I wish I could do that trick - I would almost have believed that he was a god, too. I would've loved to ask him if those drawings were, in fact, him, but he had murder written all over his face and shining in his glowing red eyes.

So we hopped on the nope train to fuck-that-ville and continued our desperate flight up the stairs, pursued by fire as if it was alive and its sole purpose was to turn us into extra – crispy corpses. The house was starting to crack and groan ominously, and though all of my senses screamed to go downstairs before the place collapsed, I followed Douglas, still carrying Oly, who had taken it upon herself to climb onto my shoulder and cling on for dear life. He hung a sharp left and vanished into his bedroom. "Keep going to your room," he called over his shoulder. "Fly away! I'll be behind you!"

I slid to a stop. "Like hell!" I spat, refusing to just jump out the window and fly off – even though I really wanted to - while Douglas stayed behind with a murderous afrit.

Who, judging by the loud bang that resonated from the staircase, had just put his foot through the floor. That would slow him down for all of two seconds, I was sure.

Douglas started rummaging around in a drawer by his bed, pulling out a small pouch before he glared at me. "I said go. Now. Warn our family."

Oly was suddenly off of my shoulders and bolting towards my room, no doubt following the order. I, however, bared my teeth and growled. "Not without you." I pointed at his window, which literally opened up at a point to allow someone to walk on the roof of the living room if they squeezed through it. "We're getting out of here."

He looked ready to protest – finger raised and everything – when the hungry flames started to steal into the room, consuming the doorway in seconds. Seeing no alternative now – I really didn't want to win the argument that way, but whatever worked – Douglas just sighed and threw the window open. "Then let's go." He used his hand to signal that I should go through, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he said, "Ladies first."

Even in a fucking demonic house fire, this man was cracking jokes.

I rolled my eyes and scrambled through the window, carefully testing my steps as fast as I could manage. The living room, after all, was almost the epicenter of the entire firestorm. How stable could the roof still be? I stopped and waited for Douglas to gracelessly pull himself through the window – he might not admit it, but he was getting too old to be doing this kind of crap – and managed to somehow make it without falling flat on his face. As he straightened up, Jasper burst into the room, the fire flaring up everywhere he came into a five-foot radius of as he charged for the window.

"And we're trapped," Douglas noted pessimistically. "How great."

I did a quick scan of my surroundings, reaching three conclusions. We could jump onto the top of the neighbor's garden shed – which would involve crossing our rooftop of hell, which we couldn't do safely without slowing down. We could just jump off or let Jasper eat us; that was another choice. Or – and the most likely one that would occur – it was time to fight an afrit.

As Jasper dragged himself out onto the roof with us, Douglas and I took a few cautious steps back. I even went so far as to hiss and growl.

To which Jasper responded with a loud roar that made me cover my ears and yelp.

Rude much? We were right there; no need to yell.

Also, why wasn't Jasper lunging?

My curiosity piqued, I narrowed my eyes at the afrit only to see Jasper carefully take a step forward, the roof buckling slightly under his weight. I was a little surprised – Jasper wasn't much bigger than Douglas; maybe the wings added some pounds? – but came up with a plan immediately. Azazel's Bane would stop any magical attack directed at Jasper, right? But what if it wasn't aimed at him?

Jasper pointed directly at me. "Worthless half-breed," he spat, his voice raspy and hissing. It was rather a haunting effect. I was a bit more worried about the glow that was beginning to intensify around his hand. However, before he could do whatever he was going to, a sudden flash of motion beside me had Jasper screeching with agony, clawing at his face. I glance sideways long enough to see Douglas triumphantly throwing the now – empty pouch of his into the fiery cloak that spun around Jasper before I generated my force field, swinging my arms around until it shrunk into a ball before I launched it not at Jasper, but at the roof beneath his feet. It hit with a cracking sizzle, and – for a wild second – nothing happened. Then, miracle of miracles, the roof – weakened by Jasper's weight and the combined efforts of fire and technological wonder – cracked, causing the still-screaming afrit to crash down into the lower floor of the house. I glance into the hole and saw the poor guy still pawing at his face, his lower half completely hidden due to the fact that he had gone through the floor, as well, effectively buying us a bit of time. "What was in that pouch?" I asked absent-mindedly, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear him confirm it.

"Silver powder," Douglas responded casually.

Yuck. Note to self – avoid silver even more than I used to.

I hesitated for a second – let it be known that I, a half-breed, and Douglas, a mere mortal, had defeated an afrit; how bad ass were we? – but Douglas grabbed my arm. "We still have to go," he said, nodding towards the shed's roof. It was either that or wait for the fire department to come get us, which we weren't about to do because A) Douglas was a criminal and B) the fire would have burned us alive by then, despite the fact that I could see the fire truck – sirens blaring – turning onto our street. I nodded, and we made our way towards the shed, testing each step and avoiding areas that seemed too weak to support us before we reached the edge and leaped. Douglas actually missed the damn thing – it was a good five-foot-long leap over a fence and down, after all – but he saved himself by catching the edge of the roof right before he undershot it. Let me tell you, hitting the side of a shed sounded like it hurt, and, judging by the bloody nose he was sporting after we both dropped to the ground and the way he forced himself to take very deep breaths on occasion, had likely broken his nose and a rib or two. However, he didn't let me worry about it – no matter how much I asked – and directed me towards the neighbor's lovely rose bushes, where we crouched down to catch our breaths.

And when I say we stopped to catch our breaths, I mean that we sat until we stopped basically coughing up ash and our lungs stopped burning quite as badly. My eyes still stung – Douglas' were red and watering, so I imagined that mine were, too – but we both just sat in silence, trying to wrap our minds around what just happened.

The papers that were our only lead were gone.

Lovett and Krane either knew or would soon know our involvement in everything.

Azazel's Bane was back in the hands of the bad guys.

We had literally no tools to help us anymore.

And, as I watched the home finally give one loud, thundering crack that almost had me writhing in agony due to volume, and collapse totally on itself – I know; demon fires destroyed things much faster than regular ones – I realized that we no longer even had a place to stay.

The fan: Some shit was hitting it.

Douglas nudged me with his elbow, catching my attention. I looked at him, noting that his expression was just as devastated and hopeless as I felt at the moment. "Let's get out of here before Jasper digs himself out," he suggested.

I swallowed hard – god, my throat burned; I was thirsty – and nodded. We hesitated, letting some random gawkers – their faces were obscured by the contrast between the bright fire and the dark night sky - pass by us with their three stupid dogs - no doubt trying to be the first to see the damage - before we stood up and snuck away from the place. I had glanced back once – the fire did look rather lovely against the dark back drop, ironically – and a realization dawned on me: That had been the first real glimpse of a demon wielding its full power that I had ever had. Jasper had destroyed an entire home within minutes like it was nothing. The idea made me shudder, causing Douglas to throw an arm around my shoulders comfortingly.

Don't play with demons, kids. It's dangerous.

We had successfully gone several blocks before someone broke the silence.

And by someone, I meant me.

"Douglas?"

Douglas looked at me and hummed, letting me know that he was listening.

"Have you ever considered that home ownership isn't for you?" I asked. "I mean, what is this: The second house that's been destroyed? Maybe you should be a hobo. I was kind of one for three months. It's not so bad."

And, despite everything, Douglas cracked a smile. "Smart ass."

How many chairs are going to get thrown at my face for that close family encounter up there?

*Hides behind a flower because people wouldn't hurt flowers, right?*

:P

For the record, my little sister works as a CNA - basically, a nurse's side kick - and apparently, her nurse friends call Band-Aids "bitch - stickers." It amused me so much that I had to add it.

Feel free to review. Or don't. Whatever. :D

And don't forget:

Enjoy.

*Bows and exits*