Demon's Dance (Lizzie Grace 4)

Straight at me.

A small smile touched her perfect lips and then she lifted the hem of her long dress and continued climbing. She didn’t increase her pace, but the comet-like tail that trailed behind her shifted and flickered with renewed fierceness.

Whether that spoke of vexation at being spotted or something else, I couldn’t say.

Either way, she was going to reach the door before us.

“Is your mistress near the exit?” I asked.

“Yes. Whether she will see or sense this woman if there is magic involved is another matter entirely.”

“But she’ll see the guy with her—whatever magic she’s using isn’t hiding him,” I said. “Besides, Maelle is capable of magic, so she should at least be sensitive to its presence.”

“I am, in some circumstances,” he replied, his voice once again taking on Maelle’s tone, “but the cleaner the magic, the less I’m aware. It is the nature of the beast, I’m afraid.”

The beast being the vampire, I presumed. “I wouldn’t classify the soucouyant’s magic as clean, Maelle.”

The bigger news here is the fact she just admitted she’s attuned—and capable—of darker magic, Belle said. We seriously need to step lightly around this bitch.

Like we haven’t been?

I know, but we’ve now got confirmation that she’s a dark witch as well as a vamp. And it means that while she may not be radiating power, it’s totally possible she’s stronger than either of us magically.

I still think the vampire is the bigger danger. I scanned the area near the door, but there were far too many taller people standing between it and me. Despite the fact she should have towered over them all, I couldn’t see her.

I can. They’ve just reached the top step and have tucked in behind another couple. Belle gave Roger the second couple’s description and then added, The bitch just looked over her shoulder again. She knows we’re here.

Yes. And, from all appearances, remained totally unworried by the fact.

We came around the final curve and strode toward the door. Up ahead, Maelle had stopped the couple Belle had described, but the woman and her victim weren’t with them. I swore, pushed past Roger, and bolted toward the door.

Maelle glanced over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow.

“She’s not with them,” I said, and ran around the three of them.

To see the woman gliding out the airlock doors.

She must have sensed my nearness, because she paused and turned. Our gazes met—her eyes were full of fire and glittered in amusement.

In that moment, I realized two things.

One, she was a very old spirit and had no fear of a witch such as myself.

And two, she was about to unleash hell.

Seven

Fire sprang across her fingertips, a fierce and violent storm of circular energy that reminded me of the orb that had taken out our car.

I swore and hastily constructed an ensnaring spell. As the bitch unleashed her fire, I released my magic. The two intersected at the doorway and, for an instant, nothing happened. Fire and magic boiled around each other, neither getting the upper hand.

Then, with a rush of power, the two exploded.

I swore, spun around, and knocked Belle down. Heat sizzled over our heads as we hit the ground hard, and the smell of burning material and screams of fear filled the air.

You okay? I asked, even as I disentangled myself from Belle.

I think I’ll have one hell of a bruised shoulder tomorrow, but that’s better than being crisped. She hesitated. The bitch has left the building.