With the unfinished spell threads gathered around one hand, I carefully pulled the knife free with the other. Just for an instant, a spark of energy flared along its edge, an indication the spell I’d placed on it remained active.
In the narrow stairwell beyond the doorway, footsteps began to echo. I took a deep breath and glanced at Belle. “Ready?”
“No, but it’s too late to run screaming from this place now.”
That it was. I briefly closed my eyes and tried to get some sense of the woman who was drawing ever closer. But there was nothing. The person she’d been had been totally consumed by the spirit that was now in control—and it was fierce.
Fierce, angry, and ready to kill.
If Jack ever lost control, Maelle wouldn’t get the chance to tear him apart. The dark spirit would do it for her.
The footsteps slowly came closer. My grip on the knife’s hilt became so strong my knuckles practically glowed.
The footsteps faltered, and then stopped just outside the door, just beyond sight. If she breathed, I wasn’t hearing it. But then, the woman who was Leanne Jones was dead, and the spirit who controlled her didn’t need air. It just needed her flesh to complete its mission.
I glanced at Maelle. She immediately smiled and said, “Leanne? Please, come in.”
For several seconds, nothing happened. The controlled body didn’t answer, and it certainly didn’t move. The anger I sensed now ran with awareness.
It knew we were here.
Magic stirred, magic that was as dark as the spirit who controlled the body standing the other side of the door. Our dark sorcerer was trying to force the spirit forward.
But it wasn’t that that had my gaze shooting across to Belle’s. She’d been right in her assessment of Jack—not only was he far stronger than we’d thought, but with that strength came utter belief in his own ability. This was not the first time he’d controlled dark spirits, which was why Molly had been so damn confident we’d never capture him.
Obviously, there was a whole lot more to these two than any of us—Maelle included—had figured.
“I seriously do not intend to have any conversation with you when you’re standing out in the stairwell,” Maelle said. “So please, come in and tell me what’s on your mind. Otherwise, depart. I’m not in the mood to play games today.”
The press of magic grew, and the soul eater was forced into action. It took one step, two, and then it was in the room with us. It didn’t look left or right—it didn’t need to, given it would feel the presence of our souls. And if Jack was aware of our presence, he certainly didn’t seem to care. He just kept his creature marching forward. For whatever reason, Maelle was his intended target tonight.
As one, Belle and I crossed over, completing the spell, and locking us both in the same cage as the soul eater.
The minute it was done, I stepped forward and plunged the knife into the dead woman’s back.
The soul eater reacted instantly—a fierce, inhuman howl erupted from the woman’s throat. As it echoed through the darkness, energy began to crawl across the woman’s body, a bright, fierce net that would finish what the knife had started.
This time, there was no last-minute escape for the soul eater.
It howled again, and then spun and lashed out with a clenched fist. It caught me on the side of the face and sent me flyi
ng backward. Belle caught me with a grunt, holding me upright as the dead woman frantically tried to pull the knife from her flesh. But dark entities could not touch silver—especially when that silver had been blessed by holy water.
It roared again, and then turned and dove for Maelle. She didn’t flinch. She just raised her champagne glass and took a sip. Leanne hit our barrier, and with such force that it actually bent around her.
But the threads didn’t break.
The spell held.
I grabbed Belle’s hand. Magic pulsed between us, a force that grew in strength as we began the banishing spell.
The soul eater—or perhaps even the witch controlling him—must have sensed the rise of magic, because the dead woman spun around and charged at us. Without breaking our grip or stopping the incantation, Belle spun and lashed out with a stiletto-clad foot. The blow smashed into the woman’s nose, and the ultra-thin heel speared into her left eye. As the dead woman staggered backward, I followed Belle’s action with a kick of my own—this time to the dead woman’s knee.
She went down. We kept going with the spell, and the air began to shimmer and burn. But it wasn’t so much from the force we were raising, but rather from the dark sorcerer. He was trying to enforce his will, to make his creature rise and attack.
But it was too late for that.
As our spell neared its peak, the woman’s body began to twist. It almost looked as if there were hundreds of huge worms inside of her, seeking a way out, trying to escape. Her skin became an ocean of heaving waves, and her battered eyeball plopped out onto the floor and rolled toward us. My stomach churned, but I closed my eyes and kept uttering the words of banishment.