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I look like a feral animal, fighting for her life.

And I also look like a warrior.

Fighting for the man she loves and who might possibly love her back.

Yeah, I like that one much better.

I dip my finger in the blood and draw some lines under my eyes, like the football players would do if they were in my line of work.

Then I throw our toiletries in the suitcase, zip it up, grab my purse that’s been hanging on the coat hook, and I’m out of here.

I run out of the hotel onto the street just in time to see the Super B zip up to the curb.

I drag the suitcase out, Max getting out of the car to open the trunk, just as his eyes go wide with flames.

I turn around to see a demon coming at me.

I grab the closest thing I have, my wallet on chain purse, wrap the chains around my fist and then swing like crazy, the purse colliding with the demon’s face and knocking him back a few feet.

Then I kick him against the brick wall, grab his head and with a scream, pull his head off. I’m back at the car before the first dust falls.

Max throws the suitcase in the trunk while I climb into the passenger seat and then he’s beside me, putting the car in drive, pulling out onto Royal street, going faster than anyone should.

I look over my shoulder to see if anyone is following, but so far no one is. Then I look down at my bag. The metallic leather is covered in blood and demon dust.

“Oh no,” I cry out softly.

“Anything important in it?” Max asks as we go peeling around a corner.

“Just my wallet and phone.” I take them both out on my lap. They seem fine.

“Okay, then throw away the bag.”

“It’s Chanel,” I cry out. “I saved up for a year, it’s from the spring ‘18 season!”

He gives me a stern look. “Ada.”

I sigh and roll down the window. Toss the bag out of the window.

“Another one bites the dust,” I say. “So, now what?” I ask him, looking him over. Compared to me, he looks totally untouched except for some demon ash on his leather jacket which I quickly brush off. “I guess we’ll have to throw our clothes out too.”

“Soon as we get to a safe place,” he says, his jaw tense, the car still going faster than it should.

“You think we’ll be followed? By demons or news reporters?”

He grimaces. “I took care of what I could. Anyone I could see, I made sure they didn’t see anything.”

“What if they filmed it on their phone?”

A quick smile. “I thought of that. Told them that we were filming a movie, just in case they come across it.”

I laugh. “Let me guess, the most fun you’ll have at the movies this summer,” I say, in my best movie trailer dude voice.

“Something like that.”

“And do you think it’ll work?”

“It’ll work. I may have missed someone, but if they don’t have anyone to back up their story then…”

He trails off.

Eyes glued to the rear-view mirror.

A spark in his right pupil.

Shit.

I look behind me just in time for headlights to blind me and for a car to ram up into our bumper.

“Fuck!” I yell, my neck nearly getting whiplash as we’re thrust forward against our seatbelts. The car almost spins out, but Max moves fast, hands deftly handling the steering wheel, keeping us steady.

He slams on the gas, and I’m trying to figure out if it’s a crazy reporter or a demon, but I’m going to go with the latter.

But we’re not on a highway in Oregon right now. We’re in the middle of New Orleans, and while I have no idea what district or ward we’re in, it doesn’t look great. People live here. People we can accidently run over.

“Do you know where we’re going?” I ask, staring behind me at the headlights. I turn around just in time to see us screaming through a red light, nearly getting hit ten times over, horns blaring.

“Ahhhhhhh!” I cry, covering my eyes with my hands.

“I need to get us to a less populated area,” he says, shifting gears.

Alright, well a less populated area in New Orleans doesn’t sound all that safe, however, it’s probably safer than the demon behind us.

Max takes a sharp right and we go wheeling around, and then burn it down what the sign says Louisiana Highway 39, heading southwest.

The neighborhoods get darker.

The houses abandoned.

The traffic dying away.

Max rips us off the main road and down a side road, the Super B bouncing over potholes.

It’s totally deserted here, all the houses boarded up, no streetlights, no life.

But when I look behind me, I don’t see the car anymore.

“Ha!” I cry out, giving Max’s shoulder a triumphant shake. “Whoo hoo! We lost them.”