Rampant

Grayson shook his head. “Don’t even start with me!”

She chuckled. Then she looked pointedly at the window, as if she was hankering for the shore.

“You’re on the clock, Annabel, don’t waste it. You know what this is about.”

She lifted one shoulder within her restraints and sighed. “’Twas only a bit of fun. You know me better than that, scholar.”

Mischief glowed in her aura.

Grayson fought back a growing sense of frustration. “I need to strike a deal with you.”

“Strike a deal? Well now, strange words, but I think I understand your meaning.”

“My wish is to protect Zoë, to protect the people of this village, and to undo the forbidden magic that is being done here.”

“Fear not, scholar, for I do not want her body, I have no need for it. That’s not what this is about. He might think so, but he doesn’t know what he is doing.”

The knot in his chest loosened a tad.

“I have tried to show her that.” As if to prove a point, her aura glowed fierce all of a sudden and she slid her wrists free of the rope.

Grayson had her pinned down in a flash. “Don’t even think about it. I’ve put a boundary spell around the lighthouse. You cannot leave here in her form.”

“Aye, I know.” She smiled softly. “You’re worried that I might be a playin’ with you and your lady love tonight. Mayhap I have been playin’, but not tonight. Come now, it is my last turn in this world. Let me enjoy the weight of a body while we discuss our business, and then you will see that your fears are unfounded.”

Doubt riddled him. He wanted her to be hateful and angry so he could banish her back to the spirit world without further ado, but he couldn’t get a handle on her. He also wanted to hold her down and restrain her again, in case she refused to leave Zoë’s body. The rope was no use, but he would, if necessary, call upon the powers of all souls to harness her.

“Trust me, scholar.” She reached out and touched him.

He fought back the emotion that hit him when she touched him with that hand, and rocked back on his heels.

“She is safe. Now, let me give you a word of advice.”

Advice? Grayson’s frustration only grew.

“Don’t be like your father, he could have had family here and you are in danger of denying yourself the same.”

“I don’t want to talk about me,” he responded, between gritted teeth.

She lifted her shoulders, as if amused by him. “Just an observation. Think on it.”

Grayson wondered briefly if she’d always been this annoying. “You’ve come to the surface of our world because Cain has called to you, yes?”

She rose—and she did it slowly, as if hampered by the body she currently inhabited—then walked to the window and looked out across the bay toward Shore Lane.

“Cain? I have come because of him, but not because he called to me.” She laughed to herself. “Besides, that is not his name, though he would dearly love to be the prodigal son who was welcomed home again.” She smiled over her shoulder at him, a rush of colored light pouring from her eyes.

Grayson followed her. Now they were getting to the nitty-gritty.

“He has tried to draw a veil over their eyes, but at the end of it all he has only fooled himself, for his time is nigh.

You, scholar, you see his black soul and his vengeful spirit, no matter what he calls himself.”

“Who is he?”

“An ancient witch. He lived about these parts when I did. We were lovers, but we have an old grief with one another. Time has made him forget the details. That, and a little magic.” Again she glanced back at him and chuckled, the sound of her laughter echoing around the empty tower.

“Are you suggesting that you can perform magic from beyond the grave?” It was unheard of. A few haunting tricks, apparitions, mood alterations and so forth, but nothing real, and nothing that would rely on being away from the physical anchor, her home, or her grave if she had one.