Deamhan by Isaiyan Morrison Page A

maybe engineering or criminal justice. My father wants me to become an engineer, but I don’t know yet. What do you think? Can you see me as an engineer or a police officer?”
    Just ahead, two dark figures shadowed the street at the end of the block.
    Murphy stared at her, waiting for an answer.
    She pressed his arm and halted, nodding her head toward the two in front of them. “Who’s that?”
    “Where?” He squinted, peering down the street.
    Orange streetlights bathed the two in shadows, but from the length of their hair, Veronica knew exactly who they were.
    “Quick. Let’s go this way.” She gripped Murphy’s arm to spin him around.
    “But the apartment is that way, Veronica.” He pointed down the street in their current destination.
    Just as they turned, the two figures quickly appeared in front of them.
    Before Veronica could react, Brandy grabbed Murphy by the neck, lifting him several inches off the ground. Branda spun Veronica around and wrapped her forearm around Veronica’s neck.
    Murphy gasped and his eyes bulged.
    “Now, where were we?” Branda whispered in Veronica’s ear.
    Murphy balled his fist and stuck Brandy across the chin.
    She smiled. “Oh, he’s a keeper, sis. I love a fighter!”
     Murphy swung again, but she caught his fist in her palm.
    “What the fuck?” Murphy’s eyes swelled from the pressure of Brandy’s grip.
    “All the things I can do to him, sister.” She slapped Murphy across the face. Even in the shadowy night, his cheek burned red with her palm print.
    A surge of pain shot through Veronica’s already-sore neck. She tried to fight, but her strength was no match for Branda.
    “What do you think, sister?” Brandy’s eyes scanned Murphy’s head from head to toe. “Do you think he’ll like me?”
    Branda sighed and rolled her eyes. “I don’t care. As long as I get to play with her.”
    Brandy’s smile slowly dissipated. “You never care about what I want.” As if he were an afterthought, she abruptly released Murphy. He dropped hard to the concrete, coughing and rubbing his throat.
    “Of course I do.” Branda’s gaze didn’t leave Veronica who continued to struggle.
    “Then why don’t you care?” Brandy stood next to her sister. She placed her hands on her hips. “If you care, let me have her first.”
    Branda quickly eyed her sister. “You have him, Brandy.”
    “But . . . I . . . want . . . her!”
    In a flash, Brandy’s eyes shifted away from her sister and down the street. Then she looked over her shoulder and back to her sister. Veronica noticed her alarmed gaze. Dread was the last thing she’d ever expected to see in the eyes of a Deamhan.
    The sound of breaking glass broke the air. Something or someone was there.
    “Brandy, what is it?” Branda asked, exposing prolonged canines.
    A gust of warm wind blew past them. Branda’s grip loosened. Veronica fell to the pavement. She quickly crawled toward Murphy.
    Dark blood oozed from a slit on Branda’s neck. It rained down her chest, splattering the ground in front of Veronica and Murphy. Branda reached for her neck, rubbed her gash and examined the reddish black fluid. Blood spurted from every orifice from her face; like a jet stream, it poured out her nostrils, mouth, ears, and eventually her eyes. The skin around her ear-to-ear wound turned black. Like intricate spider webs, the discoloration spread until it covered her skin.
    Her head hit the pavement, followed by her body. It crumbled into little pieces before finally disintegrating before their eyes. Murphy jumped to his feet and pulled Veronica back to avoid the cloud of dust and pool of blood.
    Brandy screamed and, with Deamhan speed, dashed across the street, disappearing around the corner.
    “What the—what the hell was that?” Murphy coughed and gagged as the wind picked up, blowing ashes across the street and into the air. “Veronica, what the hell was that!”
    How could she explain? At that moment, no words could describe