Hell's Bell (Lizzie Grace 2)

True. She paused. He’s also a very strong spirit. I suspect he’ll be one of those who takes over.

If you have any trouble getting him out, scream mentally. No matter how strong Gabe might be, even he couldn’t erase my link with her. We knew that from experience.

I will. Loudly.

Good.

I positioned the last stone, then stepped inside the circle, sat down opposite Belle, and inched close enough that our knees touched. With our energies so connected, I glanced at Aiden. “Start recording once Belle starts speaking, not before.”

He nodded and got out his phone. I lit some sage to cleanse the area, and then started the spell, carefully layering in as many protection threads as I could. With that done, I attached the spell to each of the stones, and activated it. The air thrummed with its power, and, once again, it was far stronger than I’d intended or even should have been capable of. And that suggested the wild magic had threaded its way into the spell even if I’d had no sense of it. I took a deep breath to wash away the vestiges of nervousness, and held my hands out to Belle.

We’d done this many times over the years. There was nothing to fear except fear itself.

And maybe a crazy witch with far more p

ower than either of us.

She placed her fingers in mine and then closed her eyes. While some spirit talkers used the spirit’s personal items to contact them, or objects such an Ouija board or even a spirit pendulum to provide simple answers, Belle had no need. The High Council might not hold psychic skills in high regard, but she was one of the strongest spirit talkers out there—or so my mother had said, in a moment of rare kindness toward Belle.

Though our hands were only lightly touching, I nevertheless felt the moment she silently began summoning Gabe’s spirit.

He didn’t just answer. He entered her body and seized control.

“You took your time coming here, young Elizabeth.”

Though the voice was Belle’s, the rhythm of her words and the pronunciation was not.

“It’s not my task or duty to come here,” I said. “I’m not the reservation witch.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because thanks to your actions in this clearing, the reservation council has banned all witches. Belle and I are only here because we’re trinket sellers with a little magic capability and knowledge, nothing more.”

“Oh, you are both more than mere trinket sellers, even if you do not hold the power of bluebloods.” He paused, and Belle’s frown deepened. “Why would the council risk such a ban? Surely they know the danger an unprotected wellspring represents.”

“Why did you murder your wife?” I countered. “There was no justification—”

“I did not murder her!” The words exploded from Belle. “How dare you—”

“Your prints were on the knife,” I cut in. “Yours, not hers. That is pretty clear evidence in anyone’s book.”

“Of course my prints were on it. It was my athame.”

“Which you shoved through her heart in the middle of a pentagram.”

“Not to murder her!”

There was so much anger and grief in those four words that I rocked back slightly. “Then tell me what did happen.”

Belle took a deep breath then released it. It was a shuddering sound of sorrow. “She was dying—”

“From leukemia.” One that had been detected far too late for the treatments to be of any use.

Belle nodded. “She was so sick of the treatments, and wanted to give up. I tried to convince her to stay the course, but she’d had enough. She was dying, and we both knew it.”

Belle’s fingers twitched against mine, but she wasn’t yet pulling on my strength, and there was no indication that she was ready to end the session.

“And if she’d died, she would have moved on, as is the way of all souls.”