Snow On The Beach

Chapter Twenty

They'd barely left Montana when Roslyn got a cryptic text from Sam simply saying Demons? with a set of coordinates to a town in Idaho. She tried to ignore it, but Jasper wouldn't let her turn down the hunt. She grumbled to herself under her breath, cursing him and his stupid empathetic sensitivity. 

So there the two were, in the middle of southern Idaho, a small town called Castleford with a population of barely 200. It was a good thing, too; a town with those numbers wouldn't have lasted long against the crossroads demon who was cashing in his deals. Roslyn had managed to sniff out his next victim, not that it had been difficult. 

"What is that god awful noise?" Jasper asked as they sped down a dimly lit street.

"Hellhounds," she answered simply. 

However impossible, Jasper managed to choke on air as he turned to gape at her. "I beg your pardon?"

Roslyn glanced at him from the corner of her eye, suppressing a smile at the look of shock on his face. "We're dealing with a crossroads demon. Not exactly what Sammy had been thinking, but the bastards use hellhounds to drag the vics to hell once it's time to pay up."

Jasper's expression turned to one of concern. "Are you sure you're alright enough to be dealing with a demon and its pet hellhound?'

This time, Roslyn grinned maliciously. "That's why you're here."

Roslyn pulled up outside a long, one story house. She could hear frantic breathing from inside, sobs threatening to escape a woman's throat. She had parked the mustang and was halfway to the door before Jasper caught up with her. 

"Ros, maybe we should slow down."

"Jaz, we don't have time."

He rolled his eyes and Roslyn resisted the urge to slap him for it. "I mean literally. No sense scaring her more with our supernatural shit. Besides, you're currently bleeding out on your favorite shirt."

Roslyn stared at him blankly for a moment before looking down at her tank top. He was right, and she hated it. "Fine."

The pair slowly crept inside, keeping the lights off as they made their way through the empty house. Roslyn nodded to the kitchen, mouthing salt at Jasper and he nodded before disappearing around the corner. She found a locked door at the end of a narrow hallway, calling Jasper over when she tried the handle and found it locked. He had a container of salt in each hand and had barely opened his mouth to protest before Roslyn had kicked the door open.

The woman was small, her hair a rat's nest of curls, though she had calmed down since they'd arrived thanks to Jasper's subtle manipulation. But even that didn't stop her from screaming at the sight of them. Not that Roslyn could blame her: even with their gentler approach, Roslyn was still covered in her own blood.

Roslyn got to work, barely sparing the woman another glance as Jasper approached her, clearly fighting his urge to kill her himself. Roslyn had barely dumped the first can of salt in a line over the doorway before she heard his breath hitch. She was at his side in an instant, forcing the salt into his hands.

"Line the windows then make a circle large enough for her to sit in." Roslyn instructed, gently nudging him away from them. "Make sure the lines are unbroken or the protection won't work."

He nodded once and was gone. Roslyn turned her attention back to the woman who was watching her with terrified eyes. Stupid, idiot woman. 

"Were the ten years worth it?"

Behind her, Jasper growled, "Ros."

Roslyn didn't even turn, never taking her gaze off the woman's. "What? It's a valid question considering I'm about to die, too."