Demon's Dance (The Lizzie Grace Series Book 4)

by Keri Arthur

  “Which only did so because your magic contained and then stopped it.”

  I grimaced. “True, but the last thing we want is an explosion here at the café, and if I replicate that spell, that’s just what we might end up with.”

  Belle wrinkled her nose. “What about using parts of the containment spell from last night? It did stop her fire—”

  “But not the residual heat. The grass had started to catch, remember.”

  “Yes, but that stopped when Monty constricted his magic and you secured her. If we try a combination of all three spells, it might just work.”

  I glanced at my watch and then rose. “If we’re going to do it, we’d better do it now. Monty said he’d be here about four.”

  Belle grabbed her coffee and followed me into the reading room. We pushed back the table and chairs and then sat on the rug. There was no need for spell stones in this place—it was probably one of the best-protected rooms in all Australia.

  “At least when it comes to rooms protected by inadequate witches,” Belle commented.

  I grinned and held out my hands. Once she’d placed hers in mine, I said, “If you weave the containment spell through the current lines of protection, I’ll reverse its function and add in the fire and fire spirit exceptions.”

  She nodded, took a deeper breath, and then begun. I repeated the process and then followed the threads of her magic as she wove it through the network already surrounding the café. I picked up each containment line and carefully added a number of exceptions that would hopefully prevent the soucouyant or her fire affecting the café in any way. It would undoubtedly force a direct attack instead but better we come under threat than her fire not only taking out this place, but also the businesses on either side of us.

  Belle finished her threading. Once I caught up with her and we’d tied off the spells, I sat back and studied the result. The magic that protected the outer shell of our building from anything and anyone intending us harm was now a net that extended up the walls and across the roofline. I couldn’t see the latter, of course, but I could feel it.

  “Well,” Belle said, a catch of weariness in her voice. “There’ll be no disguising our presence now.”

  Not when our protections would glow brighter than a neon light to any witch who passed by the place. “We can always dismantle it once we’ve dealt with the soucouyants.”

  “Because of course there won’t be any other spirits rolling in to give us grief.”

  Her sarcasm had a smile tugging my lips. “We’d have to be extremely unlucky to get another couple of soucouyants though.”

  “Yes, but it’d also be far easier to alter the protections on this one than raise a new one every time some fresh evil decides to hit the reservation.”

  “Also true.” I picked up my now lukewarm chocolate and quickly drank it. It didn’t do a whole lot to ease the gathering fatigue, but it was better than nothing. “And we can always hope that fate won’t be the bitch we fear she is.”

  “Aside from the fact your prophetic dreams have been harping on the eventuality of your dad and Clayton coming here,” Belle said, “the council is not going to keep ignoring a reservation that keeps killing or maiming its witches.”

  I grimaced. “I guess the thing we need to hold on to is the fact that neither of us are the same people that we were back then.”

  “Yes, and we’re not as powerless, either,” Belle said. “We may be little more than leaves in a storm when it comes to our magic and theirs, but we do hold one key advantage over them.”

  “This reservation.” And, more importantly, the wild magic and my link to it.

  Whether in the end it would be enough was the question neither of us could answer—especially given I had absolutely no idea what my mental state would be when I eventually came face-to-face with the man who’d tried to rape me.

  “And if we can’t permanently leave the reservation thanks to your tie with the wild magic,” Belle said, touching my knee in compassionate understanding, “then it’s that connection that might save us even if we can’t save ourselves.”

  “God, I hope so,” I muttered and pushed to my feet. “Want a hand up?”

  “Yes.” Her fingers gripped mine. “Monty and Aiden are almost at our door.”

  “You go answer. I’ll push the furniture back and grab our gear.”

  She nodded, picked up the two mugs, and then headed into the café. Once I’d put everything back in place, I grabbed the backpack, loaded it up with a number of charms, potions, and our silver knives, and then followed her out.

  Monty was standing in the middle of the café, his gaze on the netlike structure that now flowed up our walls. “I see you’ve decided not to wait for me to show you that spell.”

  “We couldn’t afford to.” I walked past him and gave Aiden a quick “hello” kiss.

  “Debatable point, given it wouldn’t have taken all that long to show you the basics,” Monty said. “But there are some very nice variations included in your version. Whether they’ll hold up against a full-on attack is now the question.”

  “And one I’d rather avoid getting an answer to. Are Ashworth and Eli on their way?”

  “They’re still camping out by the lake, keeping an eye on things,” Aiden said. “There’s been no sign of the soucouyant, though.”

  “Which hopefully means she hasn’t woken yet and doesn’t know what is going on.” Monty’s gaze swept me and then moved onto Belle. “You two ready?”

  “I’m not entirely sure why I’m included in this motley crew,” she replied, “but yes, I am.”

  “You mean aside from the fact that any sensible questing company should always involve a beautiful woman?”

  “Oh dear,” Aiden murmured, even as I rather mildly said, “Are you saying that I’m not beautiful?”

  He looked at me, but instead of contriteness, I got a big grin. “Lizzie my darling, you are lovely, but aside from the fact we’re related, you’re also not Amazonian perfect.”

  “Monty my darling,” Belle said, in a perfect imitation of his tone. “No amount of flattery in the world could get you anywhere near my body when we were sixteen. Let me assure you now, that hasn’t changed.”

  “But you can’t blame a man for trying. Shall we go?”

  He spun around and headed for the door without waiting for a response. I glanced at Belle; she simply rolled her eyes and then followed him out.

  “You know,” Aiden mused, “those two—”

  “I wouldn’t finish the rest of that sentence if I were you.” I grabbed my keys from under the counter. “Not if you value your life.”

  “I’d say Belle doesn’t scare me, but we all know that’s not true. Besides, I’ve seen her punch. She has a mean right hook.”

  “You were out to it at the time, so technically you didn’t see anything.” I locked the front door and then fell into step beside him. Belle and Monty were already climbing into the back of his truck.

  “Yes, but I did see the result. He’d have needed dental surgery.”

  Only he never made it to a dental surgeon, let alone trial, simply because he’d chosen the wrong vampire to cross swords with.

  We climbed into the front of his truck and made our way back to Greenhill. It was just after five by the time we arrived. Mac was the only ranger on duty—maybe Aiden figured the presence of two witches negated the need for an extra ranger.

  Ashworth greeted us with a grumpy, “About bloody time.”

  “Hey,” I said, “the underpowered witches in this outfit needed recovery time after last night’s efforts.”

  He gave me the look—the one that said he didn’t believe a word of it. “We’ve already dragged the soucouyant container closer. How do you want to play this?”

  “I’ll attempt to find the older soucouyant using this one,” Monty said. “You four are basically backup and protection.”

  Ashworth’s expression suggested he wasn’t exactly happy about being assigned the role
of backup. Monty continued on obliviously, “Liz and I will head off in Aiden’s car; Belle, you’d better go with Ashworth and Eli, just to be on the safe side. We’ll figure out what to do next if and when we find the soucouyant’s lair.”

  “Nothing like being prepared beforehand, laddie,” Ashworth said.

  Monty raised an eyebrow. “If you’ve got a better suggestion, old man, I’m more than happy to hear it.”

  “Old man now, is it?” Ashworth’s voice was deceptively mild. “If you weren’t so green around the edges, I’d be tempted to teach you some manners.”

  “Can we cut the macho bullshit and concentrate on the task at hand,” Belle said. “Because we’re running out of daylight and I’d personally prefer not to be tracking this thing when it’s awake and aware.”

  “A point we can all agree on,” Aiden said. “Mac, you can head back to the station and sign off. Monty, go grab the soucouyant’s container. The rest of you get to the trucks. Let’s get this show on the road.”

  Everyone else obeyed but I remained exactly where I was. Aiden stopped and raised an eyebrow in question. I motioned toward Monty, who was now standing on the shore hauling on the long rope connected to the jerry can.

  “We’ll need to remove her from the container before Monty can try a tracking spell, and I’d rather do that here than in the confines of your truck.”

  “Good point.” He crossed his arms and waited beside me.

  The weighted jerry can came up out of the water; almost instantly, the soucouyant became active. I couldn’t see it, but I felt it. Felt the sudden press of its energy against the threads of wild magic that bound both it and Monty’s magic. I rubbed my arms and tried to ignore the stirrings of unease.

  Monty untied the rope, detached the rocks, then picked up the container and ran toward us.

  “Right,” he said, unscrewing the lid, “let’s get her out and then I can try adding a tracking spell.”

  The lid came off and a fierce storm of magic and heat blasted into the air. The grip of the two spells on the soucouyant was starting to fade. “And if you can’t add the tracking spell?”

  “Then Ashworth will be seriously pissed, and tell me so in no uncertain terms.” His smile flashed. “But I’ve had an expert run me through what needs to be done, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “The expert being your professor friend?”

  He nodded. “Ready?”

  I nodded and concentrated on the magic I couldn’t see rather than the stuff I could. Monty’s energy soon joined mine and, after a second, the sphere that held the soucouyant came free. The inner edges of Monty’s spell were indeed fraying, and despite the fact that I’d tried to make mine self-replenishing, there were now dull patches running through the network—an indication it wouldn’t last another twenty-four hours.

  “Right,” Monty said. “Do you want to make a small gateway through your net? It just has to be wide enough for me to pick up the end of my spell.”

  I nodded and did so. Monty reached magically through the gap, untied the last line of his spell, and began twining through what I presumed was the tracer spell. I watched through slightly narrowed eyes, trying to remember the patterns and words, just in case I needed to do something along similar lines when I was head witch—

  My thoughts came to a crashing halt.

  Where the hell had that come from? Why in the hell would anyone appoint me head witch? Aiden might have expressed the notion somewhat wistfully, but if Ashworth wasn’t strong enough to be reservation witch, why would anyone even consider me?

  Possibly because of the wild magic and your connection.

  That connection will never make up for the lack of skill and knowledge, Belle.

  I know, and it’s not like I even remotely want something like that to happen. But given the way things have been rolling for us lately, it’s an eventuality that wouldn’t actually surprise me.

  You and I could not handle the job. Not even with the wild magic’s help.

  You and I might not have a choice.

  I didn’t comment and the prophetic part of me remained stubbornly mute.

  Monty wound the tracer carefully through the network of the containment spell and then thrust it deep into the soucouyant’s energy. She reacted violently, her energy churning in agitation, but it had no immediate effect on either of his spells. But the heat leaking through the small gap in my magic made me wonder just how much longer that would be the case.

  He hurriedly closed off the two spells and withdrew. I quickly resealed my spell and then glanced at him. Sweat beaded his forehead, but his expression was pleased.

  “I take it the spell is working?”

  He nodded. “I’m currently getting strong feedback. How long it’ll last if she continues to twist like that is another matter entirely. It’s very possible she’ll either dislodge or fry the connection.”

  “Then let’s not stand about here,” Aiden said, ever practical.

  He picked up the jerry can and led the way back to the truck. I caught one of the strands of wild magic and pushed the sphere along after him. Once Monty was sitting in the front passenger seat, I gave him the soucouyant and then climbed into the rear.

  “Is that thing safe?” Aiden said, as he started the truck up.

  “For now,” Monty said. “Head out of the farm and then back into Greenhill. I’ll give more directions then.”

  Aiden nodded and took off. I did the seat belt up and tried to ignore the unease traipsing across my skin. As long as both sets of magic held up, we really weren’t in danger, no matter what my instincts might be saying.

  At Greenhill, Monty said, “Go left at the roundabout.”

  “Out of the reservation?” Aiden queried, even as he obeyed.

  “Yes.” Monty’s voice was absent. He was concentrating on the signal coming from the tracer.

  We continued on, eventually swinging right onto the Western Freeway and then off again once we’d hit the road to Argyle.

  Monty’s breathing was becoming harsher, and the sting of his sweat so strong that even I could smell it. I shifted position to look at the sphere; Monty’s spell had frayed a whole lot more and the patches of deadness had grown larger along my thread lines. I caught the end of my spell and hastily wrapped a few more lines of power around the sphere, but I doubted it would hold for long. With the night growing ever closer, the soucouyant was becoming stronger.

  We swept into Argyle and then turned left onto the Midland Highway. The heat in the car was increasing; Aiden flicked on the air conditioning and the blast of cool air provided a welcome if likely too brief respite.

  “Right here,” Monty said abruptly.

  Tires squealed as Aiden obeyed. Dust flew and the truck fishtailed on the gravel road for several seconds before Aiden got it back under control.

  “A little more warning next time would be nice,” he muttered.

  “Sorry,” Monty said, sounding anything but.

  I leaned forward. “How close are we?”

  “Close.” He hesitated. “We’ve probably another mile or so.”

  We continued on, passing a couple of even smaller side roads before Monty said, “Slow down. I think she’s in the building ahead on our right.”

  “That’s a holiday rental house,” Aiden said. “Friends of mine own it.”

  “But they don’t live there, do they?” I asked, fearing the worst if they did.

  “No, but someone has obviously rented it—there’s a car parked out front.” He glanced at Monty. “How do you want to play this?”

  “Shouldn’t the first thing we do be to get those people out of there?” I asked.

  “If it isn’t already too late,” Monty said. “The strength of the tracer suggests that if our soucouyant isn’t in the house, she’s damn close to it.”

  I briefly studied the house. It was an old double-story red-brick building that had probably been a barn at some point in its life given the height and width of the original fron
t door. There was a newer weatherboard building added on to the rear that more than doubled the barn’s original size. There was a smaller shed to the right of the building, and what looked to be a cabin behind it.

  My gaze drifted back to the small shed and that odd sense of trepidation became full-blown fear.

  Something was very wrong.

  “You know what?” I said abruptly. “I don’t think we should be taking the younger soucouyant anywhere near that place. In fact, I think the best thing we could do right now is damn well put it back into water.”

  Monty twisted around to look at me, his expression confused. “Why? With five of us, she’s not likely—”

  “Monty,” Aiden said, “trust me when I say it always pays to listen to Liz’s gut, no matter what common sense might otherwise say. It’ll save your life. It’s saved mine.”

  Uncertainty flickered through the confusion, but all Monty said was, “I think it unnecessary but... is there a dam or something nearby, Ranger?”

  Aiden nodded. “There’s one just up the road.”

  “Good.” I twisted around to check where Ashworth was. His truck was just pulling up behind us. “Let’s force this soucouyant back into the jerry can, then Belle and I can take her up to the dam. If there are guests inside the house, Aiden can evacuate them while the three of you check out that small shed. If she’s not there, then she’ll be damn close.”

  Monty’s eyebrows rose. “You can feel her from here?”

  “Magically? No.” My brief smile was tight. “It’s more my psychic radar screaming to keep the hell away from that shed that leads me to believe she’s there.”

  “Huh,” he said, still looking unconvinced. “But I guess if you’re right, you’ve saved us some time.”

  And time was not on our side. I shoved the thought aside, climbed out of the truck, and then grabbed the jerry can.

  “What’s happening?” Ashworth said as he got out.

  “Liz’s gut,” Aiden said, as if that explained it all.