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anyway. I know he has strong feelings about his mom, even if he doesn’t say them out loud.
    “I saw her use it on the witch in the woods and then we used it to kill her in De’Intero.”
    Poncho hmms . “In the woods, the redhead?” I nod. “This is what she used to separate the witch from her essence.”
    “Yep, and then she released it into the atmosphere. Kriegen said she didn’t need it, but it’s still strange.” Demons want our essence. It’s why they hunt witches, and when they take our essence, our source of magic, we die. It’s what happened to my parents. A witch can’t survive without an essence. It’s sort of like bone marrow. I’m the only one who’s ever survived, because the demon didn’t take all of my essence, and I had the void. Lucky me.
    The only time a demon doesn’t want a witch’s essence is if the demon used to be a witch, like Kriegen. Witches who undergo the transformation, the change from witches to demons, have more power than demons that are born or created from Nons.
    “May I?” Poncho asks, pointing to the dagger. Carter nods and I watch the delicate way Poncho removes the dagger from Carter’s hands. He dusts off some of the dirt and traces the weird circular symbols on the hilt.
    “What is it?” Carter asks.
    Poncho shakes his head, which is surprising. He knows everything. It’s sort of what he does. Have we been sucked into the Twilight Zone? “These symbols go back to the beginning. They were the markings of Taliel and Lucifer, part of the secret language the demons created.”
    This dagger goes all the way back to the beginning of our creation, then. Taliel was the other angel who fell with Lucifer, one of his closest companions. We knew it was important, but this? Wow.
    “I can keep it safe and do some research for you. Each of these symbols has a meaning. It will require a few days’ time,” Poncho says.
    Carter looks at me for an answer. I believe in Poncho. Even if he has a few secrets that don’t make sense to me yet, I feel I can trust him. “No problem,” I say.
    If it means we get some more answers, then I’m up for anything.

Chapter Four
    Carter
    I can’t help but look at Pen. Sure, I always like looking at her. At the curve of her neck and the way her hair falls against her spine. The way her blue eyes always seem to darken when she’s up to something, or sparkle when she’s happy, which are nearly interchangeable. At the curveof her breasts and her hips and the way every single part of her short frame is perfect. Even that freckle on the back of her neck that she probably doesn’t know is there. But there’s something about her that seems unfamiliar now.
    I watch her reflection in the mirror as she twists her wet blond hair into a bun. For the last few days she’s got this thing. She’s more confident. I can see it when she stands, when she speaks, and definitely when we’re using magic. Almost like having the void, even if it may not be good, makes her feel like she’s more.
    I hate that she feels like she needs magic to be the best. That’s part of the problem with our society—the Triad has placed so much weight and power on a witch’s status and the rights you have versus when you’re a Static or—God forbid—a halfling.
    Penelope’s an amazing Enforcer, and she could kick my ass even without magic. That’s definitely part of what makes her stand out from others. Better. It’s not the magic, or how she looks, and it never has been. Not for me.
    “What?” she asks, a nervous smile reflecting back at me.
    I shrug. “Thinking.”
    Her eyes narrow the way they do when she’s worried. It’s cute. “About what?”
    I feel myself smile at the look on her face. “You.”
    She turns and leans against the dresser, her eyes on me. “If this about today, I’ll be more careful. I hate fighting with you. I got carried away, that’s all. It’s….” she pauses and inhales. “I can’t explain what its like. It’s like when