Demon's Dance (Lizzie Grace 4)

“Which is why Monty is staying.”

Ashworth snorted. I raised an eyebrow and added, “I get this feeling that you’re not overly impressed with Monty.”

“I’m not overly impressed with his lack of experience,” Ashworth said. “He certainly has the power, but he hasn’t anything more than basic knowledge when it comes to the dark forces in this world, and that could be dangerous for us all.”

“All?” I raised my eyebrows. “You’ve definitely decided to settle here then?”

“It’s your fault,” he said. “You and Belle are too damn interesting.”

“And our cakes too damn delicious,” Belle said dryly. She handed me the empty bottles, and I tossed them back into the pack.

“That could also be a factor.”

I grinned and glanced around as the three ranger trucks switched off their sirens and pulled up in front of the house. Jaz motioned us to get in and then whisked us back to Castle Rock. I was pretty relieved to be home, but it wasn’t like my day—or rather, my night—was over just yet.

“Wouldn’t it be better to worry about the charms tomorrow, when you’re well rested?” Belle locked the front door and then followed me through the main room.

“Probably.” I tossed the backpack on the counter and moved around to flick on the kettle. “But I feel the need to do it now.”

She grunted. “The timing of your psychic radar sometimes leaves a lot to be desired. Do you need some help?”

“No. You go rest—and make sure you put salve on those burns.”

“I’ve already used the holy water, and they’re only minor—”

“And they’re the ones that often present the most danger when it comes to infection.”

She raised her hands, a smile touching her lips. “Okay, okay, salve will be applied, but only after a shower. That water was filled with things that moved, and I want to make sure no leeches—or anything else, for that matter—have hitched a lift on this bod.”

“Before you go, I’ll grab your charm—it’ll be easier to attach the fire repelling spell to that than start all over again.”

She nodded and tugged the charm from her neck. The magic within it caressed my fingers, a wash of energy that was possibly the strongest we’d ever created—at least until I’d woven the fire spell into the café’s protections, anyway. Both our charms were made from multiple strands of leather and copper, with each strand representing a different type of protection. Silver would have been the ultimate choice when it came to spell conduits, but that wasn’t really practical in a werewolf reservation. Or when I was dating a werewolf.

Belle went upstairs. I made myself a hot chocolate, grabbed a large piece of banana cake to boost my energy, and then headed into the reading room. I shifted the furniture, then sat cross-legged on the floor. The spells protecting the room swirled around me—an energy I could now see as strongly as I could feel. The wild magic seemed to be strengthening my “other” senses, and I couldn’t help but wonder again just how far it would go.

And whether it would be enough to stop my father and Clayton when they got here.

Trepidation and fear shivered through me. I shoved them both aside and pulled my charm over my head, placing it on the floor beside Belle’s.

But I didn’t immediately begin. Instead, I ate the cake and drank my chocolate, knowing I’d need the sugar rush to get me through the next half hour or so. Then, with a deep breath to center my energy, I picked up Belle’s charm, first deactivating it and then undoing the sealing thread. With the spell lines exposed, I carefully picked my way through them until I’d reached the two at the heart of the charm—the ones that repelled specific demons and spirits. I gently recrafted the spells to include both the soucouyant and other beings of fire. The wild magic once again stirred through my spell, adding to its power. Whether in the end it would be enough, I really couldn’t say, but it was certainly better than nothing. I locked the fire spell down and then retreated, strengthening and then closing the other layers as I did. Once that was complete, I activated the charm once again. A niggling ache flared in my head, a warning that I was pushing my limits. I briefly closed my eyes then got to my feet and headed out to grab some painkillers and make myself another cup of hot chocolate. The task was only half done—I still had one charm to go.

By the time I’d finished, that niggling headache was full-blown. I rubbed my temples wearily and then picked up the two charms, putting them both over my head before shoving the furniture back into place.

I was halfway to the kitchen when the prophetic part of my soul kicked into gear, swamping my vision and my senses with heat and fire.

I swore and grabbed at the wall in an effort to steady myself, but my senses were swimming and the visions flickering so fast through my brain that it was disorientating. I slid to the floor before I fell and closed my eyes, trying to concentrate on slowing the images down, on trying to see what my psychic senses wanted to show me.

After a dizzying couple of seconds, the fiery reel slowed. I didn’t immediately see anything other than fire—a huge ball of it, rising from beyond the buildings that lined the other side of our street. Then it spun and a building formed—a brick double-story townhouse.

Monty’s place.

Fear had my heart tripping into a higher gear, but the vision wasn’t finished with me yet. Even as the building became clear, it exploded into flames. And then I saw Monty—unhurt, unburned—coming out of the building. But not under his own steam.

He was in the arms of the soucouyant.

The fear increased, but the dream flicked direction. A sky emblazoned with the rich colors of sunset. A deep, dark forest. Aiden in a ranger SUV.

The latter two were on fire.