The Witch with No Name

“One more step, Rache,” Jenks said, and I held my breath against the lure as I hesitated . . . breathed . . . and finally pushed myself out of Trent’s spell.

“No!” Nina moaned when I yanked her through it as well. My pulse thundered, and the zing of Trent’s field seemed to lick up the edges of my skin, trapping the demon inside. We had him.

“Oh no,” Jenks whispered, and Trent glanced at me. His face went ashen.

“What?” I said, his fear kindling my own, but neither one said anything. “What!” I said again, vertigo hazing me as Nina collapsed, sobbing. My fingertips were tingling, but they looked okay.

“Nothing.” Jaw clenched, Trent turned back to the charm. “Keep Nina back.”

“Give it to me!” Nina howled, and I suddenly found myself three feet away and gasping for breath on the hard dirt. Nina had shoved me, and I watched as she hammered on the column. Within it, the twisted shape of Felix’s soul was doing the same, both of them freaking out as their brief moment of connection was sundered.

“Holy pixy piss, Trent, finish it!” Jenks shouted.

“Ta na shay cooreen na da!” Trent said, horrified as the demon tried to dig his way under the energy barrier. “Ta na shay!” he said again, to no effect.

The demon howled at the sky, then turned to Trent, hatred in his eyes.

And then the demon’s foot touched the spiral.

Shock reverberated through the surface demon, and his howling turned from anger to fear, and then panic as he suddenly dissolved, vanishing into a quicksilver pulse of light that spun through the spiral to the tiny endpoint.

The demon’s last cry echoed, but he was gone.

Nina stared, shocked as Felix’s soul was suddenly not there. In the new silence, the bottle slowly rocked, spun, and fell over, clinking against the pebbly dust.

Had it worked?

“Give. Me. My. Soul.”

It had been Nina, and I stared at her as Trent, oblivious to everything, struggled to find himself, head down and panting as the ends of his ribbon shook. He’d done it, and it looked as if it had cost him dearly. Why was I doing this with him? I was going to get him killed.

“Give it to me!” Nina shouted again, and I scrambled up as she jumped at Trent. Bis flew up in fear and Jenks darted away. Scared, I grabbed Nina’s shirt and jerked her off Trent.

“Nina! Kick him out!” I demanded, and she snarled, her hair wild as I pinned her to a tall rock, my hands feeling as if they were on fire.

“There is no Nina,” she howled. “I want my soul! Give it to me!”

“I’m sorry, Nina.” I couldn’t find a hint of her in the woman’s glazed, fierce expression. I made a fist, grabbing it with my free hand and swinging my elbow at her head.

It hit her with a resounding pop. Pain flashed up through me and was gone. It was a phantom pain. I’d done it right and all the force had gone right into her head, knocking her out.

Elbow stiff, I caught her before she fell and eased her down. If Felix had been himself, I never would have been able to do it, but he was half out of his mind, lost and adrift from having touched his soul.

“Are you okay, Rachel?” Trent whispered, and I nodded. He was slumped beside Bis, exhausted, shaken by what he’d done. I knew he’d have no regrets and would do it again if I asked. But I wouldn’t.

Seeing Felix with even the hint of his soul had been enough to convince me that giving the undead their souls would send them walking into the sun. I’d seen Cincinnati without her undead. As much as I hated them, it would be the beginning of the end.

“You can’t give him his soul,” Trent said.

Saying nothing, I crossed the space between us, kicking dust and dirt into the spiral as I went to get the soul bottle. The spiral was dead. It held nothing anymore.

“You saw what it did to him,” Trent added.

The bottle felt small in my hand, and my stomach twisted as I remembered the demon who’d taken shape from Felix’s soul, bitter and savage. Without the mind to temper it and the body to cushion it, the soul became warped and broken. How long had they been apart? A hundred years? Two hundred?

“Rachel?”

I scooped up my shoulder bag and dropped the bottle inside. Today I felt like a demon, and I wiped my hands off on my pants, shaking as I looked at them and the red dust like blood. “We need to get out of here,” I said, seeing the eyes beginning to close in around us again.

Slowly Trent got to his feet. He looked at his spell for a moment, then away—but not at me.

I could not fail Ivy. If I failed to convince Cormel that this would be their ruin, then I’d finish the charm and fix it to Felix. And if Cormel still didn’t believe after Felix walked into the sun to end his torment, I’d find Cormel’s soul and fix it to his putrid, decaying body.

But I’d never ask Trent to do this again.

Chapter 8