Demon's Dance (Lizzie Grace 4)

I shifted and, in the gleam of the headlights, saw what appeared to be a rear bumper bar. The rest of the car was little more than a shadowed outline; if there was anyone inside the vehicle, it wasn’t obvious from here.

“I’m not liking the feel of this.” Tala halted the SUV but didn’t turn off the engine or get out. “At the very least, there should have been some reaction to us pinning them with our headlights. Is the soucouyant still here?”

“Yes.”

But why couldn’t we see her? Or, for that matter, her victim? The Kia wasn’t a large car and there wasn’t a whole lot of room in the back seat to stretch out in any way—something I knew from rather disastrous and totally unsatisfied experience. The soucouyant’s human form was well over six feet tall, and her victim had been at least several inches taller than me. Seduction room would have been sparse.

“How do you want to play this?” Tala asked.

I swung the pack onto the seat and quickly unzipped it. “I think I’d better go on alone to investigate—”

“And I think that’s a bad idea,” Tala cut in. “If all three of us spread out, then it divides her attention and gives one of us a chance to take her down.”

“Except you’re dealing with a fire spirit—the only way bullets could take it down is if they’re blessed.” And I didn’t know of many priests who actually did that. We’d had a hard enough time finding ones who would bless our knives. “She can also use fire as a weapon, as she did in the club. I managed to contain it then, but I may not be as lucky a second time.”

“So why put yourself in the line of fire? Why not call in Monty and let him deal with this thing?”

“Because if we do wait, we void any chance of rescuing Harding.”

“I think we all know the chances of him coming out of this alive is practically zero,” Duke commented.

“Practically zero still gives us a chance, however minute,” I said. “And if it were you up there, wouldn’t you want someone to at least try?”

He grunted and didn’t bother replying. I tucked two more bottles of holy water into my pockets and then clipped my silver knife onto my belt.

The presence of unguarded silver had both Tala and Duke pulling back from me, though I rather suspected it was an instinctive reaction.

“Right.” I took a deep breath and then opened the door. “If the shit hits the fan, don’t come running.”

Another of those tight smiles touched Tala’s lips. “Just don’t get yourself injured or dead. The boss will be mightily pissed if you do.”

“I think it’s safe to say I wouldn’t be overly pleased if that happens, either.”

I climbed out of the SUV. The bright glare of the headlights cast the car up ahead into deeper shadows, but I didn't need to see the car to know the soucouyant was still there.

And waiting.

Fear shivered through me, and it took every ounce of control not to climb back into the SUV and beg Tala to just get us out of here.

I swallowed heavily and then said, “Can you turn the headlights off?”

She immediately did so. The night closed in, still and thick with menace. I shivered again then silently began weaving a demon snare around my free hand. I might have only read the theory of the spell, but I’d seen the threads of its creation when Monty had called it into being, and that helped. Whether my spell would have anywhere near the necessary strength to contain the soucouyant was anyone’s guess. But I had nothing else in my arsenal right now.

I forced my feet forward, but the closer I got to the vehicle, the greater my uneasiness became. There was no sign of anyone inside—no silhouettes and no movement. If not for the fact I could feel the presence of the soucouyant, it would have been easy to believe they'd abandoned the car and gone elsewhere.

My grip on my knife was now so fierce that my knuckles glowed white. The encasement spell flowed around my left hand, a mix of gold, silver, and red threads. The power of it pulsed across the night, and yet it was little more than a breeze against the storm of heat and energy now rising from the car.

I crept around the edge of the trunk and moved to the back door. While there was still no movement, there was now light—flickering, orange-red light.

Fire.

Fire that rather eerily bore human form, but in miniature.

The soucouyant.

Sitting on the center console, watching me.

I tore my gaze from it to the back seat. Saw the pale gleam of unmoving flesh. Saw the bruises decorating his flesh and the look of utter horror frozen onto his face.