Doreen was peeking from behind two buildings to make sure Star saw the necklace and when she did, she breathed a sigh of relief as she started to perform the spell to get her back home.
Then she smelt the sulphur.
The odour of burning tyres, and she spun.
“I can feel you,” she called into the dark alleyway. “Come out,” she commanded. “Show your face.”
“Are you sure you want to see us?” A voice asked.
“Are you very sure?” another asked. “It has been very, very long.”
Doreen held the dagger in her hands and she wished she had something more powerful. It was just a plain old dagger. She had sworn to never give the knowledge of bringing back the dead to anyone, but it was still a hell of a blade. She willed blue flames to pour through the metal and the alley glowed in blue light, but there was nobody there.
“Do you think I’m scared,” Doreen said, her voice shaking. “I’ve faced darkness and night, devils and angels. You don’t scare me.”
“You should be very scared,” the voice said, and now it was starting to sound familiar. Very familiar.
And Doreen took a step back.
“You should be,” the other said, “sister.”
And then a talon whipped from nowhere and impaled Doreen straight through her heart.
And then, Doreen of the Witches of Auchi, was dead.