Hell’s Bell

by Arthur, Keri

  “No, of course not. But we need to set a trap for the soul eater, and to do that, we’ll need to confine it within a protective circle—”

  “Made of blessed water,” she finished, and nodded. “I would have thought a pentagram would have been of more use.”

  “It would, but it’s not like we have candles or our athames with us right now.”

  “Given he is strong enough to control this spirit, will not he sense the formation of your magic?”

  I hesitated. “Perhaps. It would depend greatly on how much training he has and just how instinctive his magic is. Many half-breeds get the ability without the instincts.”

  Which was what ultimately made half-breeds so dangerous—if you couldn’t see and sense magic, either your own or another’s, you really couldn’t master it.

  Given his control over the dark spirit, he has to have inherited some instincts.

  Not necessarily. There’s been many nongifted people over the years who’ve successfully controlled the destructive nature of the dark ones. I mentally shrugged. Either way, our priority has to be the soul eater.

  “And once you have done the circle?” Maelle said. “What then?”

  I pulled out the knife, tucked it into my belt, and then grabbed the potions and holy water, handing the latter to Belle. “Then, hopefully, we’ll pin it within whatever body it’s using and kill it.”

  “Hopefully is not the most encouraging word you can use in this type of sit—” She stopped and cocked her head sideways. “Roger informs me that Leanne Jones—one of my feeders—desires to see me urgently.”

  “Could you ask Roger if he notices anything different with her? Particularly with her eyes?”

  She nodded, and after a moment said, “Her eyes are black. Solid black.”

  “Meaning the soul eater has taken her.”

  “I will,” she said, her voice holding as little emotion as her expression, and sending yet another round of shivers down my spine, “truly enjoy tearing this bastard apart.”

  “Let’s deal with soul eater first,” I bit back. “Unless you want your remaining feeders to end up as soul eater breakfast.”

  The deadness in her gaze zeroed in on me, and just for a heartbeat, I saw death.

  Maelle was not someone I ever wanted to make an enemy of, because that death would come for me.

  Then she blinked and smiled. It did nothing to ease the trembling inside. “Indeed I do not. Proceed.”

  I swallowed heavily and then said, “Invite her up, but tell Roger to take her the long way around. We need ten minutes to set up.”

  “Jack’s just walked into a vampire’s base intent on destruction,” Belle said. “That means he’s either insane or extremely confident in both his skills and the strength of the spirit he controls. Either way, it makes him as dangerous as his creature.”

  “I know, but we can only deal with one threat at a time.” I returned my gaze to Maelle. “Can you also ask Roger to ring Aiden? We need to get the RWA witch here ASAP.”

  Maelle nodded. “And my customers? Should we not evacuate this place?”

  I hesitated and glanced at Belle. She shrugged. “He’d have to be wearing some form of concealment charm. Evacuating the club will just give him cover to escape.”

  “And yet,” Maelle said, “the minute you deal with his creature, he might well leave anyway.”

  “Let’s hope he does, because it’ll make dealing with him less dangerous for everyone else here.” I hesitated. “Push far enough away from your desk so that we can walk between you and it; once we’ve done so and the containment lines have been drawn, don’t go near them or in any way break through them. Not until the soul eater is dealt with.”

  “If you’re intending to confine me to this room, you will not succeed. That door is not my only way out.”

  “I’m not trying to confine you, just the soul eater,” I said, even as I tucked away the handy information that this room had a second means of escape.

  She sat down, calmly picked up her drink, and then pushed back from the desk. Only the utter whiteness of her gaze gave any indication of the murderous fury she was controlling.

  No matter what happened in the next few minutes, Jack Lea and Molly were not long for this world.

  I glanced at Belle and, as one, we began the incantation. Belle walked one way, I walked the other, both of us murmuring the same words, building and layering the threads of our magic together as we slowly drew a circle around the desk with the holy water and the warding potions. We didn’t close it, however, but walked instead to the open doorway and stood in the shadows clustered on either side of it.

  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.

  The spell reached a crescendo; the dead woman screamed.

  Then, as the soul eater was sent back to the realm from which it had been drawn, she exploded.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Leaving us covered in blood, flesh, and bone.

  It felt like slime. Warm, red slime.

  I vomited.

  A heartbeat later, so did Belle.

  “Well, that was unexpected.”

  Maelle’s voice vibrated with an edge that spoke of hunger. The gore explosion might have been contained within the boundaries of our magic, leaving her untouched, but I very much suspected it would not remain that way for long. That once we’d left, she would strip off and bathe in the bloody remains of her feeder.

  “Yes, it was.” I stripped off my sweater, and then used the inside of it to wipe away the worst of the gore from my face and hair, gagging as I did. “And it’s not over yet. We still have to hunt down our witch.”

  But the sense of him was fading from this place. He was on the run, and that meant we had to get out there, and fast, otherwise we’d lose him.

  And if we did, he’d have time to summon another soul eater. Or maybe even something worse.

  “You cannot go into a room half-filled with werewolves reeking of a slaughterhouse,” she said. “It will cause the very problem we are trying to avoid.”

  “I can’t just let him go, either—”

  “I’m not for a second suggesting that you do.” She glanced past me. “Roger, please provide the ladies replacement clothing, and then escort them both outside via the tunnel.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You have a tunnel?”

  “One never lives to my age without taking all manner of precautions. Go.”

  We deactivated the containment spell and then followed Roger from the room. The door was closed and locked firmly behind us. No one was getting in to disturb Maelle’s blood bath.

  I gagged at the thought, but there was utterly nothing left in my stomach to regurgitate. About halfway down the stairwell, Roger paused and pressed his hand against the wall. A scanner kicked into gear, read his prints, and then a door opened. The room beyond was small, and filled with all sort of armaments, from medieval-looking things right through to modern. There was also a selection of clothing, and, of all things, a refrigerator. I did not want to know what sort of liquid it might be chilling.

  Roger gave Belle a quick look, and then pulled a pair of slim jeans and a loose top from one of the racks. “These should fit nicely. There’s a towel to your right that you might want to use first.”

  As she stripped off and cleaned up, he moved to a drawer, pulled out a pair of flat shoes, and handed them to her. Like the jeans, they fit perfectly.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “Once upon a time, I was a tailor. I haven’t really lost the knack, even though it’s a cover we’ve sadly not used for many years now.” He repeated the process for me and, once we’d both changed and had brushed as much gore from our hair as was possible, added, “This way, please.”

  He led us through another door and then along a small, dark corridor that had obviously been built between two rooms. The club’s music vibrated against the wall to our right, but there was nothing but silence coming from the other side. Maybe it was a storeroom. Or maybe it was some sort of safe room for Maelle. She’d have more than one of them, of that I had no doubt.

  After a few more twists and turns, a heavy metal door appeared. Roger again placed his hand against the reader to open the door, and then stepped to one side and waved us through. “Happy hunting, ladies.”

  I didn’t bother replying. I just dug my phone out of the pack and ran for the front of the building. There was no immediate sign of our dark witch—not on the street, not in the air.

  “He’s on the run, and already a couple of streets away,” Belle said. “Or so say the spirits.”

  “Can you ask them to keep track of him for us?”

  “They are. They’re as pissed off as us at what just happened.”

  “It’s not like they were the ones who got exploded over.”

  “No, but they said that sort of happening does tend to give spirits in general a bad name.” She paused. “Are we going after him? Or are we waiting for the cavalry?”

  “If we wait, we risk giving him the chance to summon something else. I’ll call Aiden. You lead the way.”

  As she raced off, I contacted Aiden. Roger might have already called him, but Aiden needed to know what was now happening.

  “We’re twenty minutes away,” he growled, before I could say anything. “Wait for us.”

  “We do that and we risk losing this bastard for good.”

  “Then keep the line open and keep me updated on where you are.”

  “Hurry,” I said, rather unnecessarily.

  We swung around the corner and pounded up the empty street. I kept up a running commentary for Aiden’s benefit, but I had a gut feeling he wasn’t going to get here in time. That this bastard was ours to deal with, whether we wanted it or not.

  Jack’s essence began to stain the air, as did the gathering energy of magic. But it was low-grade—underpowered—which suggested he might have used most of his energy and strength controlling the soul eater.

  Belle’s guides directed us left, onto a street lined with large houses on acreage. Perhaps he was hoping to lose us in the bush. The thought had barely crossed my mind when there was an odd pop of sound. Belle swore and cannoned into me, the force enough to knock the breath from my lungs and the phone from my hand. We hit the ground, but she was up in an instant and all but dragging me to a nearby tree.

  “The bastard’s armed.”

  Given he wouldn’t have gotten a gun into Maelle’s, it could only mean he’d either stashed a weapon up here previously, or that the low-grade run of magic I’d sensed was him summoning a weapon from somewhere. “If he’s resorting to a gun, he’s been weakened. This is the best chance we’ll have of getting him.” I looked around. “Can you see my phone?”

  “No.” She paused, her head cocked sideways. “He’s cutting through the next property, heading back toward Richards Road.”

  I drew in a deep breath, attempting to calm the churning in my gut and the quiver of nerves, and then said, “Right, we need to split up. Ask your guides to foll
ow him, and let me know if he changes direction. If we can come at him from two directions, we might have a chance of at least pinning him.”

  Belle nodded and moved to the right. I went left, weaving my way through the scrub and climbing carefully through barbwire fences. Somewhere ahead a dog barked, but it was quickly cut off.

  I kept on running—though it was becoming increasingly harder given the growing ache in my leg—and tried to remain as quiet as possible. I just had to hope that, for once, fate played into our hands.

  In the distance up ahead came the glimmer of a streetlight, which meant I had to be nearing Richards Road. I went the long way around a darkened house and slowed as I neared the road.

  Belle? I said. Where is he?

  He’s just hit the road. I’m a few minutes behind him. She paused. He’s headed your way.

  I flexed my fingers, but didn’t dare gather magic. Weakened or not, he’d probably sense it. Instead, I picked up a sturdy-looking branch from the base of a broken tree and hefted it lightly. I certainly wouldn’t want to be clobbered with it. Hopefully, it would stop a man in his tracks.

  I found a tree that was close enough to the footpath for me to launch at him, but wide enough to hide behind, and stopped. After a minute or so, I heard him—his footsteps were heavy and his breathing was a harsh rasp that cut across the night. I hoped that meant he was at the point of exhaustion. Hoped the two of us could cope with him.

  I fought the ever-increasing urge to reach for magic as his footsteps drew closer. Further out in the darkness, magic stirred, but it was true wild magic rather than the magic infused by Katie’s spirit. It would make spelling dangerous, but it wouldn’t stop me if it came down to a choice between it and survival.

  But at the last possible moment, he seemed to sense my presence. His footsteps abruptly faltered, and his harsh breathing fell silent.

  Belle, distract him.

  “Oi,” she said immediately, “who’s that moving around out there?”

  He swore softly and walked on. I raised the branch, and when his footsteps indicated he was close enough, quickly stepped out from the tree and swung my weapon with every ounce of strength I had.