COMING SOON
SNEAK PREVIEW
and all i loved (i loved alone)
CHAPTER ONE
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Death’s home is unsettling in its starkness.
It’s obvious that Rio hasn’t thought further than having the house in the first place: the walls are freshly painted, but the air smells faintly of plaster and emptiness. No furniture, no clutter—just a wide, bare living room, illuminated by a single overhead bulb that casts harsh shadows into the corners.
The only thing breaking the monotony of the wooden floorboards is the glowing iron-red circle carved into the center, runes etched with agonizing precision. At its heart crouches a squirming little creature no larger than a child, though its twisted proportions—short, stubby arms, hunched back, and fingers that ends in claws—destroys any semblance of innocence.
Agatha hovers beside it, her arms crossed, her figure cutting a severe silhouette against the bare walls. Her silver hair gleams under the light, as her piercing eyes bore deeper into the creature.
Billy watches it throw Agatha a grotesque sneer. Behind him, Tommy gags. “What the hell is that?”
“I’ll ask again,” Agatha says, her voice like the snap of a whip. “Why were you skulking around Green Park Correctional Facility? And choose your answer carefully. I’m not feeling patient tonight.”
The imp spits—though the spittle evaporated mid-air, sizzling as it hit the boundary of the iron circle. It grins, jagged teeth gleaming. “A͠L͏W͠A͠YS ͞Q̵U̵E̶SŢIONS̶ ̷N̶EV͘ER ̶D͏E͞AL̷S. S͏W̸E҉ET̕ TAL̴Ḱ ̕GA̧T͘HER̕S ̧S͞WEE̢T ANS͡W҉E҉RS̵.”
Agatha’s eyes narrow. She makes a sharp gesture, and the circle flared brighter, sending a pulse of energy through the imp’s body. It screeches, smoke rising where the magic burns its skin.
“Oh god, that smells even worse.” Tommy complains, drawing the ghost’s gaze.
“Honey,” she says in warning. “I thought I told you not to bring the kids into this.”
Rio shrugs, passing Agatha’s spectral form with a brief kiss to her cheek as she inspects the little gremlin-like imp. “I got sick of watching you poke at this thing.”
Billy frowns at them both disapprovingly. “Did you know she was taking in Tommy?”
Considering she tried to kill them less than a month ago, it feels like a mistake to hand over his recently re-acquired brother to Death herself. Even if she was currently masquerading as Special Agent Rio Vidal of the FBI.
But Agatha waves a hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, Teen. We have bigger fish to fry.”
“Which fish?” Tommy grimaces, peering at the jittery imp. “I don’t even know what species that thing is.”
“It’s an imp.” Billy says grimly. “But what was it doing at Green Park?”
“That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?” Cooling her voice considerably, Agatha turns back to the demon with a glare that could curdle milk. “You’ve got one chance to make yourself useful or I’ll bind you into a paperweight for the rest of eternity.”
The imp growls, but its bravado cracks. Its clawed hands rub compulsively at its burned arms. “A͜SK͏ ҉A̵ND ̸AN͡SW͘ER ̡T̡H͟E͞N͝ W҉I̴TCH̵.”
“Start with Green Park,” Agatha steps closer, her ghostly form pulsing with power. “What were you doing there?”
“S̴N͡IF̀F́I͏NG̢.”
“At what?” Agatha snaps her fingers again and the circle shrinks a few inches.
The imp shrieks and the next voice it echoes is not its own: “WARDS ARE DOWN. WE HAVE TO GO NOW.”
Tommy looks unnerved. “What was that?”
“Imps repeat things they here.” Billy murmurs to him, sceptical of the creature’s honesty. “But they’re not usually this helpful.”
“What wards?” Agatha demands.
The imp hisses up at her. “D̢O͜WN ͘COMES͠ ̷T͜HE ̀CI̸RCL̨E͜ ͡THE͟N ̨TH̴ROU̵GH THE I͜RON. ͝RUN B͡RO̕TH̵E̷R͡S͞ ͘RU͝Ǹ!͘”
Another flick of Agatha’s hand, and the circle blazes brighter. The imp yelps, writhing as if it were being roasted alive. “Enough games,” Agatha snarls. “Speak.”
Panting, the imp glared at her, its smile gone. “DOWN COM͡E̵S̕ ͝T͡H̡E ̸CIR͝C̨L̕E͢ THEN͠ ͘TH̨ROUG͝H͢ TH̴E͞ ̡I̛R͏ON!͘ ̷H͡E DI͏D̢ ̢I̛T̵ H͜E ̡D̀I̛D IT ́H̕E͘ B̛RI͡NGS̴ ̷DO͟W͞N ̷TH́É ̸C̸ĮRC̕L͡E҉-”
The temperature in the room seems to drop. Agatha stares at the imp, her expression unreadable. For a moment, the only sound is the faint crackle of the magic circle.
Then, with a snap of her fingers, the imp’s horrid, scratchy voice is cut off.
“What is it talking about, Agatha?” Billy questions. He doesn’t like the way the imp studies him even now, beady little yellow eyes following his movement to and fro. “What wards?”
Agatha looks troubled which is not usually a good sign but so does Rio and that’s an even worse sign. “I was worried this might be the case.”
“That what’s the case?” Tommy persists, then glances around and glowers at Rio. “What’re you, allergic to furniture? Where are we meant to sit in this place?”
Rio, who has somehow found herself a beer in this otherwise empty shell of a house, shrugs. “Floor’s good enough for me.”
Agatha sighs, rubbing her temples. “Teen, tell me what you remember about turning off the lockdown.”
Billy can’t help but flinch slightly. “What? Why?”
“Indulge me.”
He shuffles awkwardly, not altogether comfortable with the memories of that day. “It was so loud, I couldn’t think. I just lost control, just for a second. And when I came back, it was quiet. Why does it matter?”
“That’s it?” Agatha probes. “It was quiet?”
“All the doors were open.” Everyone looks to Tommy in unison, who shrugs. “What? It was weird. Every single door was open.”
Agatha nods like she was expecting that. “You unlocked everything, and I mean, everything that day, kid. Including a few things that were meant to stay shut.”
“Like what?” Billy glares at the imp, suddenly desperate for answers. “What does it mean, he did it? What did I do?”
His ghost-witch mentor hesitates and then lifts her silencing curse with a wave of her hand.
The imp is still chanting: “DOW̡Ǹ C͞OM҉E̸S͝ TH͝E͏ ̢C͠IR̨C͜LE,͜ ̸THĘN TH́RO͡UGH TH̀E̕ ͡I͏R̵ON͞, ̧RUN̕ ̡BR̡O͏TH͡E͞RS͝ ̕RU̵N͜!̷ ͠DOW͠N COMES ̢THE C͝I͘R͠CLE͘-”
“What circle?” Billy demands, stepping closer to the trap over Tommy’s groan of protest. His gaze lingers on the imp, a strange mixture of curiosity and dread in his expression.
“T̨HE͝ TŖA͏PS̴.” It yowls like an angry feline. “TH͡E̴ TR͡AṔS ̷T҉H̵Ę T̶R̛AP̶S ̨TH̢E ҉T̕R̷A̴P̨S̴-”
Billy’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “What traps?”
“Billy, don’t listen to it,” Agatha interrupts, her tone firm but laced with unease. She turns back to the imp. “You’re stalling. I can tell.”
“What did I do?” Billy whispers, his voice cracking. “Did I—”
“Billy, don’t—” Agatha snaps, but it’s too late.
Before Agatha can tighten her grip on the binding spell, Billy steps just a fraction too close to the circle, hands trembling, as he searches for some kind of answer in the imp’s taunting gaze.
The moment the protective boundary is punctured, the imp’s eyes blaze like twin suns. With a triumphant screech, it explodes into a plume of smoke, filling the room with the acrid stench of sulphur.
“Well, that’s just great!” Agatha sneers, waving a hand to clear the smoke.
Billy stumbles back, coughing, his face pale. “I—I didn’t mean to—”
“Damn it, Billy!” Agatha whirls on him, her voice sharp and furious. “Do you have any idea what you just did?”
“I was just trying to—” Billy starts, but his words falter under Agatha’s glare.
“You let it escape!” she says impatiently. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that thing is? How much it knows? We could’ve used it to figure out what’s going on, but now—”
“Now what?” Tommy cuts in, his tone defensive. He steps between Agatha and his brother, his arms crossed. “You were the one keeping that thing in here. If it’s that dangerous, maybe you should’ve locked it up better.”
Agatha’s eyes narrow, and for a moment, it looked like she might turn Tommy into the desexed kitten she keeps threatening him with. But Rio sighs exasperated and steps toward her wife, her calm, even voice cutting through the tension.
“Enough,” Her tone leaves no room for argument. “The imp’s gone. Yelling at each other won’t bring it back.”
Agatha exhales sharply, her anger simmering but contained. She turns back to the smouldering remains of the circle, her mind already spinning with contingencies. “The circle, the iron, the traps. Damn it, what did you get us into here, Teen?”
“What is with this damn circle?” Tommy interrupts bluntly. “Or the iron, for that matter? Does anyone wanna clue in the not-witch?”
“Witch’s circles can be used to cast spells,” Agatha finally explains begrudgingly. “But they can also be used to trap demonic entities. And if your brother opened all the locks in Green Park that day, it stands to reason-”
“That I opened the traps too.” Billy concludes.
Agatha looks pained to admit it herself. “There was an iron protection circle surrounding the whole prison. It’s why I couldn’t get in.”
“Well…that’s good right?” Tommy looks between them expectantly. “If you couldn’t get in after Billy pulled his little firework show, doesn’t that mean these demon things wouldn’t get out?”
“Down comes the circle, then through the iron.” Billy recites bitterly. “I might not have brought down the protection circle but I think whatever was trapped in there might have broken through it anyway.”
“Run, brothers, run.” Rio finishes with a mirthless smirk. “Congratulations, pipsqueak. You may have unleashed a few demons on the world.”
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