Demon's Dance (The Lizzie Grace Series Book 4)

by Keri Arthur

  I swung the pack onto the seat and quickly unzipped it. “I think I’d better go on alone to investigate—”

  “And I think that’s a bad idea,” Tala cut in. “If all three of us spread out, then it divides her attention and gives one of us a chance to take her down.”

  “Except you’re dealing with a fire spirit—the only way bullets could take it down is if they’re blessed.” And I didn’t know of many priests who actually did that. We’d had a hard enough time finding ones who would bless our knives. “She can also use fire as a weapon, as she did in the club. I managed to contain it then, but I may not be as lucky a second time.”

  “So why put yourself in the line of fire? Why not call in Monty and let him deal with this thing?”

  “Because if we do wait, we void any chance of rescuing Harding.”

  “I think we all know the chances of him coming out of this alive is practically zero,” Duke commented.

  “Practically zero still gives us a chance, however minute,” I said. “And if it were you up there, wouldn’t you want someone to at least try?”

  He grunted and didn’t bother replying. I tucked two more bottles of holy water into my pockets and then clipped my silver knife onto my belt.

  The presence of unguarded silver had both Tala and Duke pulling back from me, though I rather suspected it was an instinctive reaction.

  “Right.” I took a deep breath and then opened the door. “If the shit hits the fan, don’t come running.”

  Another of those tight smiles touched Tala’s lips. “Just don’t get yourself injured or dead. The boss will be mightily pissed if you do.”

  “I think it’s safe to say I wouldn’t be overly pleased if that happens, either.”

  I climbed out of the SUV. The bright glare of the headlights cast the car up ahead into deeper shadows, but I didn't need to see the car to know the soucouyant was still there.

  And waiting.

  Fear shivered through me, and it took every ounce of control not to climb back into the SUV and beg Tala to just get us out of here.

  I swallowed heavily and then said, “Can you turn the headlights off?”

  She immediately did so. The night closed in, still and thick with menace. I shivered again then silently began weaving a demon snare around my free hand. I might have only read the theory of the spell, but I’d seen the threads of its creation when Monty had called it into being, and that helped. Whether my spell would have anywhere near the necessary strength to contain the soucouyant was anyone’s guess. But I had nothing else in my arsenal right now.

  I forced my feet forward, but the closer I got to the vehicle, the greater my uneasiness became. There was no sign of anyone inside—no silhouettes and no movement. If not for the fact I could feel the presence of the soucouyant, it would have been easy to believe they'd abandoned the car and gone elsewhere.

  My grip on my knife was now so fierce that my knuckles glowed white. The encasement spell flowed around my left hand, a mix of gold, silver, and red threads. The power of it pulsed across the night, and yet it was little more than a breeze against the storm of heat and energy now rising from the car.

  I crept around the edge of the trunk and moved to the back door. While there was still no movement, there was now light—flickering, orange-red light.

  Fire.

  Fire that rather eerily bore human form, but in miniature.

  The soucouyant.

  Sitting on the center console, watching me.

  I tore my gaze from it to the back seat. Saw the pale gleam of unmoving flesh. Saw the bruises decorating his flesh and the look of utter horror frozen onto his face.

  Her first victim might have died in bliss, but Jason Harding had not.

  I wrenched open the door and raised my hand. But before I could unleash the encasement spell, the soucouyant charged.

  I reacted instinctively, throwing myself backward and raising the knife. As my butt hit the ground, the soucouyant’s fiery form flowed around the blade and then fled. I cursed and flung my spell after it; the soucouyant spun around, as if daring the spell to catch it, and then continued on into the trees. I flicked my hand and sent a bright thread spooling after her. It was a last, desperate lash of power. Just for a moment, I thought it had succeeded, as fire flared briefly through the trees. Then the darkness returned and the fiery thread was left trailing behind the main portion of the spell as it sped on into the darkness. It would stop as soon as it hit something. Unfortunately, that something wouldn’t be the soucouyant, as the spell hadn’t included a tracker.

  I swore in frustration at my own lack of knowledge then turned to look at the car—and only then realized the damn thing was on fire. She might have fled, but she’d left a parting gift.

  As thick smoke billowed from the interior of the vehicle, I scrambled upright, grabbed Harding’s arms, and heaved him out of the car. Or tried to. His body was quite literally a dead weight.

  “Here, let me.” Duke pushed me out of the way and grabbed Harding from me. As he pulled Harding from the car, Tala stepped past him, a fire extinguisher in one hand. There was a fierce hiss of air, then foam erupted into the car. But this fire was not natural, and there was no extinguishing it. Not until it had done the task it had been set.

  “Tala, Duke, run,” I said, and immediately did just that.

  We were perhaps a dozen steps away from the car when it exploded. A blast of heat and air hit all three of us and sent us tumbling. I skidded through the dirt for several yards and stopped just short of the SUV’s front tires. As bits of metal, plastic, and flaming fabric rained all around me, I swore again and scrambled under the truck for protection.

  Between the fiery deluge and the thick smoke billowing from the remains of the Kia, visibility was down to practically zero. I couldn’t see either Tala or Duke, but Harding lay on the ground ten feet away.

  He was on fire.

  And the smell....

  I gagged and pinched my nose. Breathing through my mouth helped, but only a little.

  So why him? Belle asked. Why not you or the rangers?

  I have no idea.

  She’d certainly had both the time and the opportunity to attack us—and could have done so even before I’d opened the back door. So why wait until the last moment?

  Why sit on the console waiting for me to see her? She certainly didn’t appear to fear either me, my magic, or the knife.

  Perhaps she’s taunting you.

  Why on earth would a fire spirit do that?

  Maybe she’s a very old spirit. Maybe simple seduction is no longer enough for her. Belle mentally shrugged. Until we know more about soucouyants, we won’t know if this is normal behavior or not.

  Hopefully, Monty’s searches will have more success than ours.

  Given he’s got both the national and international libraries at his disposal, I suspect he will. She paused. Aiden’s just sent me home, so I’ll go through Gran’s books again and see if I can find anything else on them.

  Is everything okay at the club?

  Yeah. As expected, Maelle’s not a happy camper—especially now that Aiden’s confiscated the security tapes for the last week.

  I’m betting she has a backup system somewhere.

  The fiery rain of car bits had eased, so I carefully climbed out from under the SUV. My shoulder vehemently protested the movement, and there was moisture running down my right thigh, but all in all, I’d once again escaped relatively unharmed.

  But between these new scrapes and the previous ones, I was going to be a sore mess in the coming days.

  Oh, she definitely has. I think it’s more a case of her not wanting him to see who, exactly, visits her establishment.

  That made sense, especially given she apparently had a series of “special rooms” that weren’t open to the general public. Did she say anything else?

  Just that Roger was in the process of going through the secondary tapes, and would contact us if he spots her first victim with the so
ucouyant or anyone else the night he was murdered—though I’m not sure how knowing that will help the situation any.

  It’ll tell us if she’s using the club as her hunting ground. It’d also tell us whether she was capable of taking on more than one form.

  True. Belle hesitated. Other than the scrapes, you okay?

  Yeah, though I have to wonder how much longer I can keep pushing my luck.

  Hopefully for many years yet to come, she said. And given the shitty nature of our teenage years and the twelve years we’ve spent constantly on the move, I think we deserve all the goddamn “good” luck in the world.

  Here’s hoping fate agrees with you.

  A twig cracked behind me. I twisted around, my pulse rate leaping into overdrive again. Thankfully, it was Duke rather than the soucouyant arriving to charcoal the three of us. He gave me a nod, limped past Harding’s still burning remains, and continued on to the remnants of the car.

  Let me know when you’re on the way back, Belle said. I’ll run you a bath to help ease the aches.

  Thanks.

  A good familiar always looks after her witch, she stated, her voice philosophical, especially when the brigade has booked half the café out tomorrow, and said witch will probably have to work her ass off.

  I snorted softly but didn’t comment as Tala came out of the trees. Her left shirtsleeve had been torn and there was a bloody scrape down the right side of her face, but like the rest of us, she’d escaped the explosion relatively intact.

  “Why would she blow up the car and then burn Harding rather than us?” She stopped several feet away from his remains and thrust her hands on her hips—a movement full of frustration and anger. How she was standing the smell, I had no idea. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  “Do you think it was an attempt to cover up evidence?”

  “Nope. Nor do I think it was a serious attempt on our lives—if it had been, we’d be dead.”

  “And the thing that did this? Is it still around?”

  I shook my head. “No. But I wouldn’t send me home unless you call in Monty first.”

  She glanced around at that, a smile on her lips. “I wasn’t going to, but I will point out that your magic doesn’t appear to counter that of this fire creature.”

  “Hey, we’re all still alive, are we not?”

  “That we are.” She motioned toward the truck. “Do you want to wait inside while we examine what’s left of the car?”

  I shook my head. “I’ll head into the trees where she disappeared and see if she left anything behind.”

  Tala raised her eyebrows. “How likely is that?”

  “Not very.” I shrugged. “But I still have to try.”

  “Just give both the body and the car a wide berth, then.”

  I did so then climbed the slight incline into the trees. The moonlight disappeared and the darkness closed in, but this time it held no sense of threat. The encasement spell had snared itself between two trees several meters in. I quickly disengaged it, but as the threads of power faded away, a second glimmer caught my attention. I studied it, my heart beating somewhere in my throat even though there remained no threat in either the night or that glimmer.

  After several moments, I realized it was a will-o’-the-wisp—the same one who’d been in the clearing when we’d found the second body and the skin. I walked toward it. “It is good to see you again, my friend.”

  The wisp spun, as if in acknowledgment. While they undoubtedly had their own language, it was one most witches didn’t understand.

  “Are you simply passing by, or is there another reason you wait for me?”

  The wisp’s light pulsed briefly, but before I could decide what that meant, it spun and darted through the trees. When I didn’t immediately follow, it returned, spun around, and raced away again. Obviously, it wanted to show me something.

  It was casting just enough light for me to pick my way through the trees, which meant I could move through the small forest relatively quickly. In very little time we came out into the wide, almost park-like area. Before me lay a long, smooth slope that led down to the bank of a large dam—the same dam I’d seen from the road.

  The moon remained behind the clouds and the lake’s surface was little more than a black mirror that barely reflected the light of the distant stars. I half wondered what the wisp would do when it got to the water—and whether it’d actually expect me to go into it. The question was quickly answered when the wisp jagged left and then stopped. In the pale glow of its light, there was a small but bloody glow of red.

  Excitement surged, even though I had no real idea as to why. The wisp didn’t back away as I approached, but it did rise, keeping itself slightly above my head.

  I knelt on one knee—wincing as my newly scraped thigh protested the movement—and then reached out, but didn’t quite touch, the spark.

  I didn’t have to, not to understand exactly what it was.

  The energy that rolled off it might be dying, but it nevertheless told me what it was and where it had come from.

  This ember was a piece of the soucouyant.

  While my spell hadn’t ensnared her, that last, desperate flick of energy I’d sent spiraling after her had caught her. Maybe not enough to capture, but certainly enough to tear a small piece of essence from her body.

  But if I didn’t immediately do something to protect it—to somehow keep it alive—then we might just lose our one and only means of tracking the soucouyant down.

  I’d never been taught the sort of spell needed to contain something like this, but I had witnessed it being done—and very recently. Eli had done exactly that when he’d drawn together the filaments of a dark sorcerer’s essence, and then contained them in a small, spellbound container. I’d memorized the spell, but whether I’d actually be capable of reproducing it, I had no idea.

  I took a deep breath and then created a protection circle around the ember, using both the holy water and a spell. Once inside the circle, I activated the spell and sat cross-legged on the ground.

  I glanced up at the wisp. “I’m about to weave a spell to contain this remnant of a dark one. It shouldn’t affect you, but, just in case, it might be wise if you put some distance between us.”

  The wisp immediately retreated to the trees but didn’t totally disappear. I somehow felt safer, even though a wisp wasn’t in any way capable of defending me if someone or something decided to attack.

  I grabbed the end of my T-shirt and quickly dried out the inside of one the small bottles that had contained the holy water, and then did the same with the cork. After another deep breath to center my energy, I closed my eyes and mentally crossed fingers, toes, and all things in-between that I remembered the spell correctly. Then I began. Energy immediately stirred around me, thin threads that gleamed in the darkness as they gathered pace and power—something I could see despite the fact my eyes remained closed. As the filaments and the spell gained momentum, the tiny ember began to twist and turn, as if fighting the pull of my magic. The glowing threads continued to gather, until a fist-sized sphere was formed. I spelled on, not entirely sure I was doing it right but not really caring if the end result was the same.

  The ember was lifted from the ground. I carefully wrapped the sphere around it, then picked up the bottle and gently guided the sphere inside. Once the ember was contained, I corked the bottle and then wound the remaining threads of my magic around it to seal and protect it.

  It was done.

  I closed off the spell and took a deep, shuddering breath that did little to ease the weariness that washed through me or the growing ache in my head. But that was to be expected; new spells always drained far more from you than ones in regular use. And I couldn’t help but seriously hope this sort of containment spell was not one I needed to repeat too often.

  I opened my eyes. Inside the small bottle, sitting in the middle of the constantly revolving filaments of my magic, was the small piece o
f the soucouyant. I’d successfully contained it; now all I had to do was hope the spell could keep the ember alive long enough to use it as a tracker.

  I quickly dissolved the protection spell, but even that small task had the ache in my head intensifying. And, unfortunately, every other part of my body now seemed intent on going along for the ride.

  I slowly pushed to my feet, biting my lip against the groan that surged up my throat. The wisp pulsed and spun its light forward, lighting my way as I slowly—wearily—made my way back up the slope. When we neared the spot where it had met me, I stopped and said, “Thank you for the assistance tonight, my friend. I wouldn’t have found this ember if not for you.”

  The wisp spun again, and then, with little fanfare, fled into the trees. Leaving me alone but not without light—the tangled threads of the spell around the glass bottle were emitting just enough to see by.

  Tala glanced up as I emerged out of the trees. “What the hell happened? You look like shit.”

  “That’s probably because I feel like it.”

  Amusement flared briefly in her eyes. “Who were you talking to in the trees?”

  “A wisp.”

  Duke glanced around sharply. “A what?”

  “She means ghost candle,” Tala said. “I had no idea there were any in this area, let alone them being able to understand conversation.”

  “Wisps are spirits,” I said. “We may not know their language, but they can certainly understand ours. Which is why I always recommend you be polite if you ever come across one.”

  “Suggesting those led astray weren’t?” Duke said, disbelief evident.

  “More than likely.” I raised the small bottle. “It led me to this—a means of hopefully tracking down the soucouyant. But we’ll need to get Monty here, and pronto, because I’m not sure my magic is strong enough to keep this ember alive long.”

  Tala grunted. “He’s actually on his way here—and rather pissed that he missed out on the action, from what I can gather.”

  “He’s already been flamed once. I would have thought that’d be enough.”

  “Apparently not.” She motioned toward the SUV. “There’s a first aid kit in the back of the truck—you might want to head down and look after that wound on your thigh.”