Lost Souls co-2

by Delilah Devlin

  Her gaze lingered on the cruiser, and she smiled wistfully. “Take care of the officers for me?”

  “Calling them as soon as I hang up.”

  She ended the call, checked her watch, and then stepped out from the shadows.

  Avery Lewis stood in the center of the foyer as she entered. Did he ever sleep?

  “You’re up late,” she said, drawing as near as she dared. She kept her expression relaxed, hoping she didn’t betray she knew exactly what he was.

  “Didn’t figure I’d see you here again after what happened earlier.” His brows wrinkled. “You have a death wish or something?”

  “Mr. Lewis, I think you’ll understand if I couldn’t sleep thinking about it. I lost someone today. Someone I cared about.”

  His expression didn’t change. No sly hint of satisfaction at the grief she suffered. No hint of curiosity about what she was doing there now.

  “The lieutenant has the third floor blocked,” he said. “No elevators. No stairwell access. It’s all locked up tight.”

  An officer strode toward them, a hand lifted in greeting. “I have that key to the elevator, Ms. O’Connell.”

  She offered a slight smile to the manager and patted her basket. “I’m assembling a little altar. The LT gave his approval. Since no one’s stirring, no one will be disturbed. I won’t be long.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You be careful up there, miss.”

  “Thanks for your concern,” she murmured, then stepped past him, not liking the fact she had to walk away while he glared daggers at her back.

  The officer stepped to the elevators and inserted a key into the control panel. The doors slid open on one car.

  “Guard the doors,” she said, her gaze slipping to the foyer. “No one goes up after me. No matter what anyone might hear.”

  Although his eyes glittered with curiosity, he gave her a nod. “Yes, ma’am. The LT said to give you whatever you needed but to stay back.”

  “That was good advice.”

  He shook his head, his steady gaze reflecting doubt. “Strange goings-on up there, ma’am. You be careful.”

  She gave him a faint smile and stepped into the car. The doors slid shut. Reaching across to the panel, she hit the button for the third floor.

  The car shimmied and then began its ascent, the hum of gears accompanying the slow trip upward.

  She gauged the timing and hit the stop switch a second before the doors would have opened on the third floor.

  Bending, she placed the basket on the floor. She pulled the watch from her jeans pocket and stared down at the gleaming glass face as a tiny golden hand ticked through the seconds. Twelve hours were reflected on the face. If the charged watch worked, she would only have the opportunity to change something that had happened within the past twelve hours. She couldn’t rewind time any longer than that to save any other victims. Madame Xavier and Sylvia were lost forever.

  A pang of regret went through her, and she slid it to one side of her mind. Focus on what you can do. Sam and the cop who’d had the misfortune to pull duty on the third floor were the only ones she might be able to help.

  The gold housing warmed in her hand, seeming to pulse. Pulling down the neck of her shirt, she placed the glass face against her chest, right above her heart.

  Cait cleared her mind, concentrating on taking slow, even breaths. She thought about what she hoped to achieve, running through the sequence, then forming images of Sam in his crisp dress shirt, his eyes alert and questioning, his body standing straight and tall. Fully alive.

  Then she rewound, in her mind, the moments before his death, and played them forward, dreaming of catching him when he came through the vortex to the other side. Her arms surrounding him, cushioning him as they fell together to the hotel room floor. “I need only a minute, maybe two,” she whispered. “Grant me this wish, and I will embrace everything I am. I’ll practice… I’ll pray.”

  The watch warmed and then seemed to vibrate. The ticking grew louder and slowed, matching the rhythm of her heartbeats. For another moment, she simply stood, letting the sound fill her chest. Letting peace seep into her body to quiet her thoughts.

  She placed the watch on the floor beside the basket and took out the brass bowl, poured small chunks of charcoal into the bottom, and doused them with lighter fluid. With the strike of a match she lit the coals, fanning them with a hand. Smoke billowed up, emitting a sharp smell, but then died away. The coals glowed. She unstoppered the first vial and sprinkled the ingredients she’d ground together at Morin’s, listening to them crackle and pop atop the hot coals as a sweet-scented smoke arose. She hoped like hell the smoke filling the elevator car didn’t trigger a fire alarm but pushed aside that worry to concentrate again.

  A moment of doubt made her hesitate. The words don’t matter, she reminded herself. Then she straightened, surrounded by herbal smoke, and addressed The Powers.

  “Elementals, hear me, your servant,

  Humbled by loss,

  Strengthened by purpose.

  Render this door a portal to unseal,

  Time unraveled,

  The past revealed.”

  Cait bent and picked up the pocket watch and clicked the button at the side of the face to pop up the glass. She touched a delicate hand and moved it counterclockwise until the time reflected the moment of Sam’s death, then she moved it again to two minutes before.

  She clipped the glass shut, shoved it into her pocket, and reached into the basket again, this time for the bottled water. With several shakes, she doused the coals. Again, she lifted the basket.

  Cait straightened in front of the doors and closed her eyes, saying a quick prayer for all to go well. “Please, please let this work,” she whispered, then flicked the stop switch. The doors whooshed open.

  Her heart stopped, then thudded hard against her chest at the sight of wine-and-gold paisley wallpaper, dark red carpet, and shiny brass plates on the room doors opposite the elevator.

  Relief rushed through her. She stepped out.

  “I wondered if you’d figure out a way. What a clever girl.”

  Alarmed, Cait’s gaze whipped toward Eddie Bradley, who leaned a shoulder on a nearby wall.

  The doors began to slide closed. He reached to clap his hand against the doors to hold them open. “Are you sure you want these doors to close? You might not make it back.”

  “Your master killed Sam.”

  His eyelids flickered. His stare grew solemn. “I’m sorry for that.”

  “I won’t kill you if you help me. There’s no time for discussion.”

  His mouth twitched. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Exactly what you’re doing now. Keep those doors open until I get back. Shouldn’t take me long.”

  “You’d trust me to do this for you?”

  She rounded on him and glared. “You don’t know what I’m capable of. Have no clue how far I’d go to hunt you down. I’ll spare nothing if you betray me. I’ll show not one single ounce of remorse.”

  Eddie’s lips twisted in a snarl. “He found me trolling for a new meal in his bar downstairs. He said he had the power to make sure I’d never leave the hotel alive. That I had to surrender my soul into his keeping. ’Til death do us part. All he had to do was flash a little lightning, and I caved.” He flashed her a strained smile. “There’s no divorce between demons. If you kill him, you’ll free me, and I’ll be in your debt. Forever.”

  “I don’t want a demon owing me anything. But I’ll let you slip away. So long as you behave. Agree to take only what you need to survive from the women you prey on, and I’ll let you keep breathing.”

  He nodded, and then jerked his head toward the hallway. “He’s in the room. Something’s up. He never goes there unless he’s pulling someone through to make a meal of.”

  She gave him a hard smile. “Thanks. You wait for me.”

  Without another word, she tucked her basket against her belly and sped down the hall.

  S
omething was happening, all right. Lights flickered. The dreaded humming vibrated in the air. The hairs on her arms prickled and lifted.

  She stopped at the door and plucked the mirror from the basket. Holding it in front of her face, she hoped like hell Morin wasn’t wrong. Sucking in a deep breath, she turned the handle and entered.

  Avery Lewis stood in front of the wall, a younger version of himself, brown hair touching his collar, geeky glasses perched on his nose. His arms moved in a circular motion, and the walls were only beginning to liquefy.

  At the click of the door closing, he turned his head.

  She held her breath, glancing around the mirror to watch as his head canted and his eyes narrowed. Not daring to breathe, she waited as he stared at the mirror for a second, then blinked and returned his attention to the vortex that was beginning to swirl in front of him.

  Cait edged quietly to the bed and set down her basket on the floor beside it, unfolding the cover with one hand while continuing to hold up the mirror.

  A cackle sounded. A dry sound that grated on her nerves. His arms continued circling, widening, then pulling back. The wall disappeared, the space in front of him darkening, filling with a milky, swirling cloud of gray and white that flickered with touches of light.

  The demon shaped the cloud with his hands, forming an ever-widening cone. Lightning flashed through the opening, a deadly arc tapping his hands and then wrapping around them. He pulled it like a rope, grabbing the jagged bolt to tug it hand over hand into the room, where it flicked up to the ceiling, tapping its way around, searching for ground.

  Wind whipped inside the room, charged with static electricity that raised gooseflesh and hair. Cait ducked down beside the bed, her gaze going from the jagged flicking bolt back to the swirling vortex.

  Two large shapes glowed in the center, attached to the end of the lightning rope. Sam and the uniformed cop dropped to the floor in front of Avery, their clothing sparkling with little embers of fire, steam rising on their hair and skin. Their bodies were held rigid, their eyes wide open. They were breathing, aware.

  Sam had lied. He suffered. He knew what was happening but was helpless, held in rigor as the demon hovered over him.

  With her fingers wrapped in a death grip around the mirror’s handle, Cait stood poised, waiting for the right moment to spring forward.

  But another shape glowed in the opening and stepped through. The older Mr. Lewis, his face animated, edges sharp and cruel, stepped out of the wall and bent toward his captives. “Quickly! We haven’t time to savor our kill.” He glanced over his shoulder to the room visible at the end of the swirling funnel. “They’ll be upon me soon.”

  If she’d blinked at that moment, she would have missed the transformation of the two Averys. Their skin darkened to a dull, storm-cloud gray, the surface mottled and rippling like burn scars. Their bodies curved, shoulders hunching, then lowering as they dropped to all fours. Their mouths stretched, jagged rows of teeth sliding from widening jaws that took up most of their faces.

  They each took a man, rolling him on his back, then urgently pawing away the clothing covering his abdomen.

  With their attention drawn to the men whose hard spasms caused their hands and heels to clatter on the floor, slowing the demons’ efforts as they stripped them, she dropped the mirror. Legs weak, she slid down beside the bed, reached for the basket, and withdrew the wine bottle already filled with holy water. She pulled out the cork and quickly reached into the basket for the hemp bag filled with rose thorns, pricking her fingers in her haste.

  Her teeth chattered as she counted out thirteen and dropped them into the bottle. Then she pushed against the bed and stood.

  The creatures’ large mouths were lifted, eyes closed as they let loose howls. The moment before their heads bent to rip into the captured men’s stomachs, she leapt beside them.

  “Stop!” she shouted, holding the bottle in front of her.

  Both creatures pivoted to face her, eyes glowing a bright fiery orange. They each took two steps, noses lifting to catch her scent.

  Cait fought the fear caging her diaphragm and dragged in a deep breath. She raised the bottle higher and took a step back.

  The beasts rocked backward on their haunches, then sprang forward.

  She waved her arm in a wide arc, shaking the holy water from the bottle. “I banish you,” she shouted, then leapt to the side, out of their path.

  The water sprayed, splashing against the demons as they hit the wall where she’d been standing. They bounced off it, shaking their heads and howling as droplets sizzled on their skin, burning through. Fire flickered around the edges of wounds, which widened, eating at their flesh to reveal a gray gelatinous interior that melted to the carpet, the stench of sulfur rising in the air.

  Cait reached for the bag and grabbed more rose thorns, cramming them with shaking hands into the bottle. Then she held the mouth of it to the edge of the gray goo.

  “With thorn and blood, water and will,

  I banish you to the bottle.

  With thorn and blood, water and will…”

  Not eloquent. But the spell worked. Over and over, she repeated the incantation, until, with a long slurp, the final bit of goo rushed inside the bottle.

  Cait scrambled for the cork, stoppered the bottle, and then tossed it quickly into the basket. “Holy shit. Oh shit!”

  With the wind whirling in the room slowly dying away, her legs gave way, and she sank to the floor, rocking on her knees.

  “Cait?”

  His voice. Hoarse but familiar. The voice she never thought she’d hear again. Her Sam was alive. Eyes burning, she lifted her head, craning her neck to glance toward him.

  He was on his knees, his bare, reddened chest heaving. “What the fuck? What are you doing here?”

  She almost smiled—Sam being alpha meant all was right with the world. “I’m here saving your ass.” Tears brimmed her eyelids and poured out.

  With slow, jerking moves, he crawled toward her and gathered her in his arms.

  She slid her wet cheek against his chest, listening to the dull but wonderful sound of his heart beating.

  “Leland let you out of his sight?” he asked, his voice muffled and thick.

  “I came with his blessing.”

  “Me and him have to have a talk.” He pressed a kiss against her hair. “Do you… do we have a way back?”

  She glanced up and across the room. The wall was once again solid.

  A groan sounded behind Sam, and she leaned around for a look. “Officer…”

  “Mills,” the policeman said, staring down at his reddened chest. “Thanks, I think.”

  Her lips twitched. But then she jerked away from Sam. “We have to get to the elevator. Now. Can you two walk?”

  Sam grimaced but pushed up from the floor. For a second, he swayed on his feet, then moved to the other officer, holding out a hand to grab his arm and help him up.

  Cait snagged the bottle from the basket and went to the door. “Quickly, before he gets to thinking my threat was a little empty.”

  “Not even gonna ask,” Sam muttered.

  As fast as the two men could move with shambling steps, they made their way down the hallway to the elevator.

  Eddie straightened when he saw them approach, his foot wedged against one side of the doors to hold the car open. His glance took in their odd appearance. “Almost decided you weren’t coming.”

  “Good thing you waited,” she said, keeping her voice hard although the effort drained her.

  Sam glared, his chest expanding as he realized who the man was. Then his head turned toward her. “You put your trust in him?”

  “Gimme some credit. I threatened him with all my powers,” she said, waggling her eyebrows.

  Sam groaned. “This time, your ass’ll be sore for a week.”

  Eddie chuckled, standing aside with a hand holding the door as they passed.

  When the three of them were in the car, he stepped back. />
  “Not coming with us?” she asked, solely out of politeness, because she knew she was going to have her hands full with explanations.

  Eddie shrugged. “I feel a little safer here.” He leaned toward her, his gaze sweeping her head to toe with a lustful glint in his eyes. “Sure you don’t want to stay behind too?”

  With a sudden push, Cait shoved his hand off the door. The doors whooshed closed to the sound of his laughter. She hit the button for the first floor.

  The elevator shimmied downward. When next the doors opened, the view was of a quiet foyer.

  Cait stepped out, glanced around, and then let out a relieved breath. Same shitty place she’d left.

  A commotion sounded from the stairwell.

  Leland slammed through the door, eyes wild, Jason on his heels.

  When Leland spotted them, he stiffened and adjusted his tie. “See you found Sam.” His nose wrinkled. “They need to fumigate that third floor. Smell of rotten eggs comin’ out of the vents. And I’m not done with that TV crew. Get the footage. I don’t want anything more leakin’ out on YouTube.”

  Cait nodded, realizing they were back to the moments after the room had filled with noxious fumes and she’d lost sight of Sam. Back to the horrible moment—but with a much happier outcome. Her throat tightened.

  Leland didn’t know he’d shown her his softer side. No one knew that Sam had died. Maybe Morin would, from his timeless shop. Only she understood how close they’d all come to a terrible, permanent loss.

  Her heart throbbed, which meant Sam wouldn’t remember their encounter in Morin’s bedroom loft.

  Well, damn. Back to square one. And with the gleam of retribution burning in his gaze, she guessed she was lucky all he wanted was a pound of flesh. Or to pound hers, anyway.

  In anticipation, her bottom winced.

  “This thing over?” Sam asked, eyeing the bottle in her hand.

  Cait held it up. The goo inside was moving. Still alive. “I’m not sure where to dispose of this.”

  “I’m assuming… demon?” At her nod, he asked, “Want it in the office safe?”

  Sitting in the safe right beside the pail where another demon was trapped in silvery splinters of glass? She’d have to get with Morin to figure out how best to safely get rid of the remnants. She’d been too busy to get rid of the first demon.