[b][i]Chapter Two[/i][/b] [right]9.[/right]

	Jenna nodded her head quickly and kept her eyes focused on the beast as she started tip-toeing toward her brother. A loud boom of thunder caused her to jump, startled, but still she moved slowly toward Dillon. She managed to reach him without drawing the attention of the Hell Hound, who seemed to be curiously sniffing Cole.

	“Good,” Dillon nodded once Jenna approached him.

	“You’re hurt,” she said, voice a whisper. She warily examined the wounds the hound had inflicted upon him. Four deep gashes bled furiously on his side.

	“I know,” said Dillon. “That’s why I called you over here.”

	Jenna looked at him questioningly, and he continued to say, “Put your hands over the cuts.” She obeyed. “Okay… Think really hard about them healing. Okay?”

	“Okay,” she whispered, holding her shaking hands over them. “Nothing happening!”

	“Focus!” he barked.

	Her hands shook worse, and she gasped as soft, blue light shone from her palms. Slowly, the wounds began to close, leaving behind four pink scars. Dillon groaned as they healed themselves, and Jenna felt herself becoming drained of energy. She collapsed.

	“Rest,” he whispered, hand on her shoulder. Her eyes slipped shut.

	The Hell Hound had ceased to sniff Cole and was now resting upon him, curled up comfortably. Its eyes flew open as Dillon approached, and it took a defensive stance over his brother. Cole wriggled around nervously, steadily regaining oxygen from where the hound had practically crushed him.

	“I think he’s taken a liking to you,” Dillon snickered.

	“Yeah, just get this thing off me!” his brother whimpered.

	Dillon had a sudden rush of panic, feeling his heart beating irregular. He took a deep breath and cast his hands in the direction of the beast, purple sparks now flying vigorously from them. Immediately, the Hell Hound howled and disappeared in black smoke.

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