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the ground. “That's why we have to take cover.”
    I'm about to ask a butt load of questions when a huge blast, louder than the first, shakes the entire building. I crouch down, hands covering my head. I think Mom does the same. Screams of pain and torment rage in the air, the sounds so strident I'm afraid my eardrums will explode. Pieces of ceiling, sheet rock, and brick fall to the ground, landing all around mom and me. I now know what Mom meant by “I've taken care of it”. She'd called Jude, he'd brought his homemade weapons of demon destruction along, and slaughtered all the otherworldly dirt bags, sending them on a one-way trip to Hell. Thank God for Jude's brain and demon-killing skills!
    Chills overtake my body as one voice sweeps over the rest of the anguished wails, the verbal message sent in my direction. The message freezes my body all the way through to my bones.
    “I'LL BE BACK!” Zavebe shouts angrily, his tone laced with vengeance. “YOU WILL BE MINE, GRACEN! YOU WILL BE MINE!”
    A sound like a tornado mixed with a hurricane roars loudly, followed by an eerie silence. I stand up on wobbly, unstable legs, and find that my mother has already left the room. Walking into the hallway I begin to cough, the air thick with dust and asbestos. I enter the main room that just minutes earlier had been filled with a hundred vamp demons and one terrifying Fallen Angel. Now the room is nothing more than a trash can full of blown up rubble. I'm amazed at the amount of destruction Jude has constructed. Chandeliers and strobe lights dangle freely from the high ceiling, the bulbs all busted. The ground is littered with broken glass, pieces of furniture, and miscellaneous stuff I can't identify.
    I make my way over to Mom and Jude, stepping over huge pieces of debris. With the exception of looking like an eighteen wheeler had pummeled over him, he seems to be fine. They see me and Jude waves, a painful expression covering his face.
    “Hey, Silva Sista !” he calls, then lets out a moan and grabs his right shoulder. “Ooh, that's really gonna hurt later.”
    “What in the world did you use, Jude?” I question.
    He grins through the pain. “Oh, just some homemade bombs, magnesium flares...you know, the usual.” I'm not impressed.
    “You could have killed yourself, Jude!” I turn and glare at Mom. “And why did you call him into this? We could have handled it.”
    She shakes her head and sighs. “Gracen, we were outnumbered. We needed his help...”
    “And that's my job,” Jude adds strongly , his voice quivering as if wounded by my words. “Oh, and by the way—your welcome .”
    I become contrite, stating, “Jude, I was just trying to say that— ”
    “We've got to get going, the police are on their way,” Mom interjects hurriedly, taking Jude's arm and helping him over the carnage. On cue sirens begin to sound in the distance. If we didn't leave now we'd run the risk of being seen and questioned.
    Jude suddenly goes limp and mom picks him up. We start to run, our super speed getting us to the Mustang, and we're on the road in no time. Jude is out cold in the backseat, and I'm kind of happy he is. If he knew that my mother had just ran with him in her arms it would make him feel weak, and the fact that he'd just sent over one hundred demons back to Hell would not make a difference.
    “Do you think Jude's shoulder is broken?” I ask Mom.
    “Not sure,” she replies, her eyes staying on the road. I watch her for a few moments and notice how deep in thought she is.
    After a brief moment of awkward silence I work up the nerve to ask, “What's the story with Zavebe?” That breaks through her thoughts immediately, and a rush of feelings flow off of her.
    Nervous. Anxious. Grief.
    “What do you mean, hon?”
    I roll my eyes. “You know what I mean. I also know you're nervous about something, so you might as well fess up.”
    She stays silent with her emotions, so I continue on.
    “You said something about