Claws extended, she shoved Ashley aside and lunged at Eric.
• • •
He raised his weapon when the first demon started moving. When claws and fangs charged him, instinct had him unloading his clip into the dripping maw. But it kept coming. He felt its claws on his arms.
“The first thing I will remove is your balls, you pitiful creature.” It punctuated its statement by digging its claws into his thighs. Points of fire arched his back and had him screaming in agony.
He heard a deep chuckle, and the pain receded. Eric opened his eyes to a sheet of rock. The demon held him to the ceiling. “No!” He heard Ashley scream.
“I will be doing you a favor, sister. That part just causes trouble anyway.”
His gun had fallen from his hands. He tried to shift to the wolf, only to realize he already had. His claws scraped impotently against the demon’s scales. He twisted in the grip to see Tarma’s maw open. The scent of decay wafted from the demon’s throat. Even as the teeth neared, he could see Ashley scrabbling on the ground for the ring she’d tossed.
“No,” was the only thought he could muster as his head disappeared into the dark.
An impact brought him back into the light. Another sent him flying through the air. Inhuman screams echoed in the chamber. The strike of the floor on the back of his head plunged him into darkness.
• • •
Ashley gave herself over to the beast and spared Tarma no mercy. She barely noticed as Eric flew across the room. She gripped Tarma’s throat in her mouth and bit. Scales popped and flesh wrenched.
The human part of herself cheered as the demon within her belched forth fire and roasted the mangled husk of what used to be Tarma. She reveled in the flames. Even after her foe was nothing but a charred lump of nothing on the floor, she kept the flame on.
You’ve made the right choice, the Mother cackled in her mind. Now, the mongrel.
Ashley turned. Eric’s bloody body lay in a heap on the floor.
The demon within her bubbled flames to the surface. Roast the mongrel.
No. Ashley struggled to regain control. The demon pressed. Ashley twisted. The demon turned. She had no control anymore. The wings, the teeth, the fire all belonged to the demon.
Except for a finger. One finger on her right hand. She concentrated all of her energy. The finger moved, taking the unsuspecting arm with it. She curled the finger around the ring and pulled. The demon realized too late what she’d done. The dark band fell to the ground. In a scream chorused by the Mother, Ashley regained control.
She ran to Eric, not raising her head when the Mother roared again.
“Eric. Oh, Eric,” Ashley cried. Blood poured out of everywhere. She tore at her clothes to make bandages to stop the bleeding. She pressed frantically on the wounds on his chest.
Ignoring the Mother as she moved to scoop Tarma off the floor, Ashley focused everything she had on Eric. You can heal. You can do this.
Finally, his eyes fluttered open, and he groaned.
“Oh, thank God,” Ashley whispered, gathering him close.
The Mother roared.
Ashley stood, placing herself between the Mother she’d come to loathe and the man she’d never believed she could love.
“I will drink his soul and yours with it.” The Mother once again came out from behind the altar. “I will have you both.”
No! The word didn’t scream from her lips, but broadcast from her heart. Like a supernova, the power of their combined souls ripped from her chest. The last thing Ashley saw as her life flowed from her was the Mother reduced to ashes.
Chapter 16
Two women were sitting on a rock at the edge of a babbling brook, their bare feet swinging to sweep toes into the warm water. “Is this heaven?” Ashley asked.
Nichole laughed. “What if it is?”
“I don’t deserve heaven.”
“Oh, but you do. You gave your life for your love, for your family. Self-sacrifice is the sign of a noble heart. Don’t you realize how much you have changed? I’ve learned that everyone gets a second chance, every day. It’s how you choose to use those chances that makes you good or evil.”
“I’m dead. Out of chances.”
Nichole arched an eyebrow. “Do you remember the mural on the mansion wall?”
As if in answer to Nichole’s question, they were buffeted by rhythmic gusts of wind. From the sky descended what looked like a white dragon.
“We’ve got a proposition for you.”
• • •
Eric was alone. The room echoed every breath, every pant, as he pulled himself toward where Ashley lay in a pile of ashes, her body charred, a gaping hole in her chest.
“No.” His back and chest ached. “Ashley.” He had to get to her. The couple of feet he had to go felt like a mile.
The air stank of sulfur and burnt hair. Ashes tickled his nose and made his eyes water. He had to get to her. She couldn’t be … She just couldn’t be …
“Ashley.” He choked out her name again. “Ashley.” He reached for the fabric of her blouse. His fingertips brushed her arm. Another shove with his toes and he gripped her forearm.
No. She was already going cold. Tears fell unchecked from his face. He managed to push himself up and turn her head to face him.
He heard footsteps on the stairs. “Help,” he called, cradling her head in his arms. “Please help her.”
The steps ran now.
Aaron and several police officers rushed into the basement, guns drawn. When he saw Eric on the ground he ran over. “No.” Aaron ordered the officers upstairs to retrieve the EMTs.
Aaron pressed his fingers to Ashley’s throat and, after a minute, shook his head.
A note rang through the room, echoing like the chanting. Though, where the other pressed, this freed. The sound reverberated and grew in harmony and complexity. Aaron crouched next to Eric, his face twisted in confusion.
Then, something happened. Did she move? “Ashley?” Eric whispered her name as if to gently wake her.
And she breathed in, sucking in air as if rising from the water. Her eyelids fluttered and opened. She managed a weak smile and took his hand in hers. Another ring adorned her finger, this one opal. The lights within it seemed to continue the music as the sound faded.
Eric brushed his bruised lips over Ashley’s. It was over.
Aaron cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but there were reports of gunfire.” He stood and surveyed the room. “There are no bodies, but I’m going to have to explain this.” He paused and looked at the couple. “Those gangs are getting out of control.”
Ashley and Eric rose to their feet.
“You all need a ride anywhere?” Aaron asked.
“No.” Ashley smiled. “We’re going to fly home, but I have one thing to do first.”
Chapter 17
Ashley walked into the hospital disguised as a petite brunette with a pixie haircut. She wore scrubs and a name tag that she shifted to match those that the other nurses wore.
She entered with a throng of other nurses on their way in to work. Nobody paid attention to the new nurse. She knew exactly where she was going.
Finally, she saw the faint glow of the tiny piece of Nichole’s soul. It was faint; it had entered a hostile environment and seemed about to lose the fight.
She walked into the room, quickly shutting the door behind her. She could see his body.
She walked past the empty bed nearest the door and lifted the chart on the second. Though the man still repulsed and infuriated her, this was her first act as a vessel of light. She was determined to do right by him, so she refused to look at the man in the bed. She read the name. William.
Naming him made it easier to see him as a person. With a deep breath, she reached out and touched his mind. She could see him as a boy, spoiled rotten by rich parents. As a young man on the fast track to success, dancing a jig on the backs of the little people, because it was what everyone expected.
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And when the time came to have a wife and family, they needed to fit the mold he’d worked so hard to achieve. But they only disappointed him, because unlike his dreams, they were imperfect and that was unacceptable.
The man in the bed before her was broken, but not beyond repair. She only hoped that she would be able to do the job and return him to his wife. It was the least the poor woman deserved.
Ashley replaced the chart and looked at the man, at William. The wisps of graying strawberry-blond hair framed his head on the pillow. His pale face was drawn and relaxed.
In her years with the sisterhood she’d stripped a man’s soul bare by inciting fear, but she’d never tried to heal someone. Her new power told her where to start, so she swallowed her new instinct and touched her hand to his forehead.
Fear. She could feel it radiating from him. She knew she remained the object of his fear. Hopefully, she could help him become a better person. The one time she’d cleansed a soul before, she hadn’t meant to do it. She hoped the ability would not elude her. Over and over again, she reached into his soul and removed the evil bits. Finally, after what seemed like hours, she was done.
His vitals remained the same. The evil was gone, but he couldn’t seem to wake up.
She reached her consciousness into his chaotic flow of thought. Scenes floated about her like movie screens playing scenes of his life. Every memory played on the screens. Then she saw the block, the fear that stopped him from regaining consciousness.
Standing, floating in the center of a long hall appeared to be Nichole, or at least the form Nichole took when she lured him. At her feet, what appeared to be a little boy cowered.
“Why are you here?” Ashley asked the apparition, but it didn’t respond.
As Ashley approached the shuddering boy, William as a youth, he whimpered and shook, muttering something that sounded like a prayer.
Ashley looked again at the image hovering over them; though it still seemed to be Nichole she could see many differences.
The most obvious was a long, thin branch in her hand. A switch.
“You’ve been a bad boy.” The image grinned and ran a hand down the length of the switch. “Now Nanny needs to punish you.”
The boy’s nanny closely resembled Nichole. That explained a lot. Little William was given everything with one hand and then was neglected and beaten with the other.
“I told you not to gulp so loudly. I don’t like to hear you chew,” the nanny exclaimed.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the child sobbed.
Ashley moved between the child and nanny. “You will not beat him anymore.”
The figure of the nanny screamed, dropping the stick and tearing at her hair.
“He is a good boy and can be a good man if you stop beating him.” This woman must’ve been why he hated women. Ignored by his mother and beaten by his nanny.
Ashley turned to the little boy and, laying her hands gently on his head, let the healing power run through her and into the boy’s mind. “Not all women want to hurt you, William. Your wife loves you and just wants to be loved in return.”
Behind them, she could hear the nanny groaning. As she healed the boy, it destroyed the apparition that so horrified him.
So she concentrated harder. “You are a good boy. A good man.”
“No, he’s mine. Nooo,” the figure wailed then screamed.
Ashley stroked the boy’s hair. “I’m so proud of you, William,” she said, keeping her tone gentle but speaking loud enough that he could hear over the nanny’s screams.
Finally, the screaming stopped. Ashley spared a glance over her shoulder and saw nothing. The hall behind them was empty.
When she turned back to the boy he smiled up at her.
“Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” She smiled back.
They both stood and walked down the hallway.
Ashley faded back to herself. How long she’d actually stood by the bed she couldn’t tell, but her legs ached a little when she stepped back.
William’s eyes opened. “Oh.” He shifted and, realizing he was hooked up to equipment, his expression changed to bewilderment. “What am I doing here? Was I in an accident?”
“Um.” She wasn’t prepared to answer questions. A couple of voices could be heard outside the door.
“Are you sure you want to remove him from life support, ma’am?”
“He wouldn’t want to live this way.”
“Marie?” William croaked when he tried to call out.
“Bill?” Marie ran around the divider curtain to the bed. “He’s awake.” She touched his face. He was smiling at her.
“I thought you’d left me.” Marie’s tears ran down her face.
He placed his hand over hers. “I love you, darling.”
The doctor looked at Ashley. “When did he awaken?”
“Just now, Doctor,” Ashley replied. When the doctor picked up the chart, Ashley edged around the curtain and slipped out of the door.
• • •
Ashley had once wondered how many chances someone gets to remake their life.
They pulled up in front of Eric’s grandmother’s house. The idea of meeting the most important woman in his life scared her slightly. “Are you going to tell her anything about being a werewolf? Or about what I’ve become?” Ashley asked as they ascended the front stairs.
“Never is soon enough,” he said as he opened the screen door at the same time Nana opened the heavy door.
They hugged in greeting. Once inside, Eric said, “Nana, I’d like to introduce you to my wife, Ashley.”
Instead of anger, Nana laughed and hugged her.
Pleased, Eric said, “I’m going to go open this wine.”
Nana took Ashley’s hands. “Welcome to the family, dear.” She linked elbows with Ashley and led her inside.
Nichole’s voice whispered in Ashley’s ear, “To answer your question, you have endless chances. Every instant you live is an opportunity for another choice toward happiness.”
More from This Author
(From Creatures of the Moon by Kristine Overbrook)
After six months, she’d have that murdering bastard locked down. In less than two hours things would be in place. She just had to handle one thing first.
“Alan, this isn’t a good time.” She moved the cell phone to her other ear and pulled her holster and weapon out of her desk drawer. Why did men always get clingy after three dates?
“It’s never a good time for you, Lydia.” Even over the phone she could see his disapproving scowl.
Struggling not to simply hang up, she pushed the button to switch the phone to speaker and sat it on her desk. “In case you forgot, I’m a cop; on call for stakeouts and killer catching.”
The phone stayed silent as she strapped on her vest and settled her holster. Did he hang up? “Alan?”
“I had a night planned.” His voice trembled. Oh God, was he going to cry? “It’s our one-month anniversary.”
She shifted her vest and stared at the phone. It should be a romantic gesture. Most women would love a guy who plans a special night. But all she could focus on was how the whine in his voice so closely matched nails on a chalkboard.
“Detective Davis?” Sergeant Eric Adams leaned into her office. “Ready?”
“Who is that?” Alan yelled. The tremor in his voice had turned hard. The scowl was back and something more. Something she wanted no part of. “Are you blowing me off for someone else on our anniversary?”
Lydia pinched the bridge of her nose and retrieved her cell from her desk, switching off the speaker as she did. She was about to lead a team of officers on a sting to catch a serial killer. The culmination of months of work. She didn’t want to waste energy on this.
Adams cringed, but didn’t appear at all contrite. She flipped him off then faced away from the door.
“Alan,” she said, using the tone she reserved for frightened children. “You’re right, this isn
’t fair to you. Go. Have a great life. I wish you all the best in the world.”
“Wait — ” She closed the phone on whatever would come next. Meaningless drivel or manly tirade, it would only make her late. Sometimes simply hanging up was best.
She tossed the phone on her desk and crossed the bullpen with Adams at her heels.
“Ready?” he asked.
“I’ve been ready to catch this guy for months.”
• • •
“Is he in there?” Detective Lydia Davis asked as she approached the officers on scene.
She already had one officer down tonight. She couldn’t let the bastard get away again.
“Yeah, we have two guys watching the rear,” Sergeant Adams answered. “He hasn’t come out yet.”
The bastard was cornered now. She paused in front of a Cape Cod located in a quiet suburban neighborhood. It didn’t fit the profile. Of course, this nut didn’t fit any profile. Her men had pulled halfway into the driveway, blocking in an old brown station wagon. Maybe the killer’s car? The smell of freshly cut grass filled her nostrils as she stood behind the SUV. Ah, the suburbs.
“Good.” She didn’t take her eyes off the house. “Could he have hostages in there?” she asked, anxious at the prospect of adding more casualties to the operation.
“No one went in with him. It’s been for sale by owner for the last month and vacant.”
“We can’t wait for the rest of the team. Surprise is our best option.” She took a breath, saying a silent prayer that she made the right choice. “Adams and you three, with me. The rest of you circle around and enter through the back of the house. Everyone be careful. This man is a savage.”
She readied her weapon and moved past the station wagon to press against the yellow vinyl siding of the house. She and her team took positions in the flowerbeds lining either side of the door and waited several moments to allow the others to get into position.
After a silent count, she nodded to Adams and moved to open the door. Reaching for the knob, the loud report of a shotgun sounded from around back, echoing off surrounding houses, followed by measured shots from officers.
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