Demon's Dance (Lizzie Grace 4)

In fact, I was damn surprised she hadn’t already sent a fireball our way, fading daylight or not.

Maybe she used too much of her strength to attack you last night, Belle said. She might have to feed before she can counterattack.

I wanted to hope that was the case, but it would mean someone else dying, and I really didn’t want that.

“Whatever you’re going to do, you’d better do it fast,” Aiden said. “That thing is getting more and more pissed off, and the grass is beginning to smolder. If it erupts into flame, this entire area could go up.”

I glanced around sharply; multiple patches of long brown grass were beginning to curl and darken under the continuing waves of heat. It really wouldn’t take much more for it to catch.

But the grass wasn’t the only thing in danger of catching fire. Monty’s containment spell was now being attacked by the full force the soucouyant, and the threads of his magic were beginning to stretch and melt. It was nowhere near the breaking point, but if he didn’t hurry up and do something, then it might yet get there.

And I wouldn’t like to bet our lives on the secondary line of defense Belle and I had created....

“Right, then.” Monty flexed his fingers. “Keep everything crossed that this works, people.”

He took a deep breath, and then magically reached through our containment spell and picked up the closing thread of his. After gently unpicking it, he exposed the main part of the spell and carefully began to weave additional threads through his network of magic. But these new threads weren’t strengthening the current ones; instead, they were constricting them. He was not only drawing the spell back in on itself, but also on the soucouyant. Her fire twisted and bubbled, a storm of unhappy energy that just wanted to kill.

Monty’s spell continued to contract. Sweat poured down his face and dampened his shirt, but inch by hard-fought inch, the soucouyant was being contained in an ever-decreasing net of power. Smaller and smaller it got, until what hovered above the ashy remains of the old hut was a churning, furious conflagration of heat and fury that was little more than the size of a basketball.

Monty dropped to his knees, his breathing a harsh rasp and his skin almost gray. “Liz, can you wrap a secondary layer around mine? And if you can entwine the wild magic around the spell as well, all the better.”

“I’ll try.”

I closed my eyes and imagined a cage of wild magic encasing Monty’s sphere—one that not only contained and protected his spell but was also self-nourishing. The last thing I needed was it to be drawing energy directly from me. When the image was complete, I cast the spell.

The wild magic responded. I had no idea whether it came from within me or if the connection I’d formed with it simply reached out and grabbed the wilder energies that haunted this reservation, but the spell was cast exactly as I’d imagined.

Weakness washed through my limbs, and I wavered slightly. Belle grabbed my arm, holding me steady as I opened my eyes.

The two spells were now entwined around the soucouyant, containing not only her but also the rolling waves of her heat. There was no danger now of the grass catching alight, let alone any of us.

Belle and I deconstructed our shield, and then she rose to collect our spell stones. I took a deep, wavering breath. “What do we do now?”

Monty wiped the sweat from his brow and then slowly climbed to his feet. “I wove a tracer through the containment spell, but there’s no way known we can use it now. It’ll probably take all five of us to deal with the older soucouyant, and we’d better be in peak form before we attempt it.”

“I don’t know about you, but it generally takes me more than a night to recover magically.”

Monty grimaced. “Yeah, though I hate the idea of leaving the hunt for too long—it only gives her the chance to kill someone else.”

“I think that’s a chance we’ll have to take,” Aiden said, as he walked up. “I’d rather one more soucouyant victim than five dead witches. I rather suspect neither the council nor the witch high council will be pleased if that happened.”

“Especially given it was only a month ago that their Heretic Investigations witch was killed here,” Belle said.

“Not to mention the fact that Ashworth almost lost his life as well. If anything else happens, they will come to investigate.” My gaze returned to Monty. “So please take note and don’t get dead.”

His smile flashed. “I can assure you that isn't currently on my agenda—and won’t be until I at least reach the ripe old age of ninety.”

“Glad to hear it.” But I hoped fate was listening and made it happen.

“Shall we meet at the café around four?” Monty said. “That gives us all enough time to recover, and still leaves enough daylight to deal with the soucouyant if we do find her.”

“What are we going to do with that sphere in the meantime?” Aiden asked. “Is there anywhere safe to actually store it?”

“I suspect not,” I replied, before Monty could. “If the two soucouyants are connected, then the older one is going to know what has happened to the younger, and she’ll be out for blood.”

And probably skin.

“Which is a very real possibility.” Monty’s growing weariness was evident in his voice. But then, he probably hadn’t really flexed his witch “muscles” this much in years. “It’d be best if we keep it well away from both us and inhabited areas in general.”