text: “Hey lady! Your truck is on fire!” “I’m a man, asshole!” The two drivers exchanged the finger most prominently associated with *fuck you* before John’s eyes started to well up from the smoke. “Cindy, for Satan’s sake, can’t you put that shit out?” “I’m trying, John! Don’t yell at me!” “Hard not to when I’m going seventy and can’t see the shoulder to pull over!” John hit his steering wheel in frustration and grunted when they hit *something*. He just prayed whatever it was it had already been dead. The smoke seemed to clear for a moment and John looked over to see his passenger blowing on the small blue flame between them. This, as his mentor would say, was a teachable moment. The rules to arcane magick were simple: don’t practice distracted, and always keep a counterspell on lockdown in case of shit hitting the fan. Or spontaneous fires in truck cabs. “Blowing on it ain’t gonna help. That’s fucking *hellfire*.” “I know what it is, John. I’m the one who summoned it, yeah?” Another car passed them honking. John eased over to the right praying this road was laid with those rivets that woke you up when you fell asleep. His right two tires came off the shoulder and hit grass. He rode the car to a stop and looked over. Cindy had her coffee held up over her head, fucking priorities. John wrenched the cup from her hand and poured it over the fire. This somehow made things worse. “Saints alive! Was that vodka?!” Cindy only managed a sheepish smile before going back to blowing on the fire. Her full lips fluttered outward on the exhale and she made a soft raspberry noise. John rolled his eyes heavenward and started mumbling the first spell he could think of that might be appropriate. Cindy sucked in a startled breath and on her next exhale she spit out white flecks of snow. “John! It *hurts*.” “Keep blowing!” He continued the mantra both in his head and on his lips. In a couple of minutes, the flame had shrunk, but now his copilot was turning blue. John reached to the back cab and grabbed an empty can. He cut the top off with his pocket knife and shoved it over the last flame. “There... that’ll seal it for now.” Cindy didn’t respond. John looked up to see her eyes starting to freeze over. “Oh, for fuck’s sake...” Five minutes later Cindy sat outside the truck in the July sun with blankets and a temper hotter than the pavement. “You *coulda* killed me, John!” “You about killed both of us!” Cindy’s shoulders sagged. John could see the beads of sweat on the back of her neck, but her arms still wrapped around her core trying to warm herself up. He kicked a rock off the shoulder and watched it fly down the embankment. *Shit.* Sitting next to her, John threw his arms around her middle. “I’m sorry, babe. I was--I was just scared. That’s no excuse.” “I’m only leaning on you ‘cause you’re warm.” “I know.” The sun started to drop in the sky. They’d have to get moving soon. Take that thing back to John’s mentor and figure out what the hell to do with it. “What were you tryin’ to conjure anyway?” John asked. He felt Cindy’s body go rigid. “Well...” Her saucer sized brown eyes looked so innocent among the constellations of freckles on her face. “I sort of got a new pet. A, uh, hellhound.” John’s free hand clenched hard into the pavement and he tried hard not to let the anger rise back up in his voice. “You know, I hear those are pretty fu--pretty big, babe.” “This one’s just a pup,” Cindy said. She smiled to herself and cast her eyes down at the road. “He’s tiny. Maybe the size of my fist. You shoulda seen him when I first summoned him, John. He’s great.” “I’m sure he is.” By Lucifer, he needed to have a sit down with her. If she was going to be summoning demons, she couldn’t just be a dabbler throwing around magick all willy-nilly. If there was one thing in this whole damn universe he could count on, it was Cindy keeping him on his toes. “Hey, John?” “Mmhmm?” “That man who called you a ‘lady’ was a dick. You’re the handsomest, manliest man I know.” *Damn, how does she do that?* “Sometimes I don’t know,” John admitted, though to what end he wasn’t sure. “Well, *I* do. And I’m gonna remind you of it until the day I die.” The sun was going down fast, and the sky turned ruddy. John wondered just how long she would go on reminding him, and he prayed that the devil took him first. He got up and shook off the road dust, then helped his girl to her feet. He thought about magick--about how nothing comes from nothing--and when he looked at Cindy, he wondered how the hell he got something so beautiful when he wasn’t even complete himself. Back in the cab, Cindy used the blanket as an impromptu mitt to handle the can. They rode on without talking, hands occasionally reaching out to touch the other person. Just as the moon began to smile down and the stars peaked out, a muffled howl broke the silence.