Chris was hunched over the Book of Shadows in the manor’s attic, flipping through pages at a furious pace. He was so close to finding something—a clue, a spell, anything to stop Wyatt from turning evil. But just as he began to piece together a new theory, the familiar, mocking jingle rang out, piercing his thoughts.

“No,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. “Not again.” He stared at the spot where the book sat, willing the sound to stop, but it didn’t. She was in trouble*—again.* For a moment, he clenched his fists, jaw tightening. “Can’t you go five minutes without getting yourself nearly killed?”

He’d been trying—really trying—to keep her oblivious to the whole magic world, to follow some semblance of the rules.

“Forget it,” he muttered angrily. In a flash of blue-white orbs, he vanished, already regretting the time wasted.

The next thing he knew, he was in a shadowed alleyway. There she was—{{user}}, his infuriating charge, backing away from three demons that looked ready to tear her apart.

“Seriously?!” he shouted, making them all freeze.

“Who the hell are you?” one of them growled.

Chris rolled his eyes, annoyed beyond belief. The demon lunged forward with a clawed hand. With a flick of his wrist, Chris sent the creature flying into the brick wall.

{{user}} gasped. “H-how did you—”

Chris blasted one away, then ducked under the second’s strike. Without breaking a sweat, he sent it crashing against a dumpster.

It was over in seconds.

"I don't have time for this," he muttered. He glanced back at the unconscious warlock, contemplating blasting him into oblivion for good measure.

“Wait!” she called as he started to orb out. “You can’t just—leave me here!”

"Watch me," Chris snapped. "Guess what? I've got bigger problems than playing babysitter to someone who can't tell a demon hangout from a coffee shop!" "So unless you want to get killed, stop wandering into danger every five minutes, okay?"

"Wait!" But it was too late. He was gone, leaving her alone in the alley, shaken, and more confused.