Embraced By Darkness (Riley Jenson Guardian 5)

"Trust me, he'll soon have something else to worry about."

She walked past the two women and reached into the small carryall that was sitting several yards behind them. What she drew back out looked an awful lot like a nail gun.

"What's that?"

"A nail gun."

Which explained why it looked like one, I suppose. "What do you intend to do with it?"

"Shoot specially made iron nails into his chest and his skull."

"What?"

She glanced at me. "The iron nails will pin his spirit to his remains and prevent him from leaving."

"Really?"

She nodded. "Iron has been used throughout history as a preventative or warding measure against demons and ghosts."

"But... how? Why would something like iron - a real material from this world - affect a spirit, who is very definitely not of this world?"

"No one is really sure. There are some theories that the slow fire of the oxidation process has something to do with it, but no one has ever truly tested it. We just know it works."

She sighted the nail gun and let off two quick shots. Almost immediately a scream ripped through the air, a sound filled with anguish and fury combined. A sound that went on and on, sawing at my nerves and making my ears ache.

I had no sympathy for the spirit that was Wilson, however. He deserved the pain he was in. Deserved the eternity of it he was now locked into.

The magi with the cat's eyes looked at me. "You'd better call an ambulance for that poor fellow in the car, then you can go."

I raised an eyebrow. "Really? You sure?"

She nodded. "He's pinned now. We'll just finish the binding, then add some extra protection around his coffin before we get it backfilled."

"What happens if he gets handy with his psychokinetic skills again?"

"He won't. We have him totally contained with the salt, the incense, and the magic. This is one bad soul whose nights of destruction are over."

Thank God for that. I walked over to the man from the car, checking that he was breathing, and that he wasn't likely to choke in his own blood. Then I called in the medics as ordered. At least I hadn't killed him outright. For that, I was grateful.

With that done, I got the hell out of there. Wilson was no longer my problem, but that didn't mean I'd finished dealing with the dead.

After all, I still had Adrienne to find. e to say, my first reaction was one of intense satisfaction. I'd spent a good portion of my younger years afraid of this bastard and his siblings, unable to retaliate for fear of reprisals from their father. To be sitting here on top of him, sucking in the scent of his anger and fear - to see the blood gushing from his smashed nose and split lip - was an undeniably sweet turnaround.

But in the heat of battle I'd forgotten he wasn't alone, and that was a very stupid thing to do.

As the sharp snap of a gun being cocked confirmed.

"Put the weapon down and step away from him." The voice was soft, almost without threat, and that, in my books, suggested that the wolf with Patrin was very dangerous indeed.

I didn't move, didn't look at him, even though just about every sense I had was tuned for the faintest whisper of movement. I continued to stare at Patrin, letting him see the hatred in my eyes, letting him wonder if I really would pull the trigger.

"You willing to bet the life of your employer on the fact you're faster with a gun than I am?" Yes.

"Then you're a fool. And Patrin obviously hasn't told you what I am."

"You're a fucking useless half-breed who needs to be taken down a peg or two, that's what you are," Patrin snarled.

I smiled grimly and wedged the gun barrel into his neck a little harder. Sweat popped out across his forehead and the scent of his fear increased.