Page 84 of Bitter Spirits

Cora cocked her head. “How?”

“Help me disable the illusion mage, and I’ll play bait with Angel.”

Cora’s lips curved in a vicious smile. “Bait?” she said as if savoring the word. “Yes, that would work.”

The arguing reached them as behind Cora, the starlit scene broke into frayed gray shadows, glimpses of a furious Carter filtering through. His features twisted with fury, his mouth moving as he wielded the rippling magic, warping the space close to him.

Cora whipped around, spotted the mage in the rift, and darted forward.

“Cora, stop!” Isa yanked on the tethers tying the spirit to her. “You can’t cross without me.”

The spirit froze inches away from where the two worlds met, her hands clawing at the air as if trying to tear her way through. Her head twisted around, revealing twin black holes lit by an earthly glow in a skeletal face. “Release me!”

“Not until you agree to help stop the illusion mage first then Angel.”

In this space outside of time, maddened wails grew to enraged screams as invisible winds whipped around the Reaper and the spirit. Cora’s storm of jagged fury and devious calculation swept over the unbending Reaper, the flood barely rippling the Reaper’s cloak. Cora glided back through shadows and stopped in front of her, a shadow of cunning slipping underneath the ever-changing features.

“Illusion mage first,” the spirit agreed then rushed the Reaper.

Magic flared into a bright explosion, and ice invaded every molecule of Isa’s body in a breath-stealing rush that left her nerves screaming. As the chill spread, the screaming faded into an eerie nothingness. Isa felt a curious wrenching sensation as the magical vow allowed Cora control of her body. Then she was moving forward at a speed that blurred Isa’s perception. One minute, she was in the starlit darkness. The next, she stood just behind Carter, tapping him on the shoulder.

The illusion mage spun around, his magic turning with him. His eyes widened as they landed on her, confused, angry, and a little unhinged. He stumbled back. “Isa? Wha⁠—”

“I need your help.” Cora shoved Isa’s hands brutally hard into Carter’s broad chest, a combination of magic and unnatural strength sending him flying backward. He careened into a cluster of large, plant-filled terra cotta pots. They toppled over, shattering against the pavers.

Carter caught himself on the squat chimney of the cast-iron outdoor fireplace. “What the hell are you doing?” His attention went beyond her, and with a muttered oath, he dove to the side.

Cora-Isa turned just as a whip of black-flecked olive green magic snapped past, its target Carter. Startled, Cora lost hold of Isa’s body, and the off-balance Isa tried to dart out of the line of fire only to trip over her damn feet. She hit the ground hard, the impact rattling up her arms to jar her teeth. Behind her, Carter gave an angry bellow, and an answering wave of magic swept out, the world twisting as illusionary power played with reality.

Isa used her magic to fight the trailing edges of Carter’s attack. She lifted her head and caught sight of Locke near the patio in a half crouch, Angel coming up on his left. “Locke, your left!”

She didn’t get a chance to see if he heard her as something heavy slammed into her hip, knocking her to her back. Pain radiated out from her hip, joining the bruising ache of the gun tucked at the base of her spine.

Carter loomed over her, raising his foot to kick her again, his face contorted into a malicious frenzy. “Bitch! Stay down!”

As Carter stomped down, she rolled and scrambled to her feet, reaching for the gun. But she was too slow. Carter lunged and caught her in a bone-bruising grip. He trapped her arms to her sides as he squeezed and lifted. Pain exploded along her torso, and the distraction was enough for Cora to reclaim physical control. Together, she and Isa slammed their head forward, smashing their forehead into Carter’s nose.

A cry erupted as pain whited out their vision. They thought they heard Isa’s name, but then the constricting hold rose, and they were free. They stumbled backward, trying to get air into their battered lungs, and tripped over broken pottery and dirt. They fell against the cast-iron fireplace but stayed on their feet. A good thing because Carter was shaking his head, his nose a bloodied mess, his eyes wild as he charged them again.

This time, they managed to get a grip on the gun and draw it, but Carter was too close. He slammed his fist into their arm, and their fingers spasmed, the gun tumbling from their nerveless grip. Before they could evade him, he followed up with a vicious kick. They spun out of the way, but Carter’s boot clipped their thigh. They stumbled back again. A gleam of satisfaction flared in Carter’s maddened gaze as he closed in.

Undaunted, they calculated their odds. Their gaze skittered around for another weapon and found one miraculously hanging on the back of the firepit’s round chimney—a thick piece of wrought iron with a spiked hook. They lunged for the poker, yanked it free, and then, fueled by lethal determination and gleeful vengeance, they swung. The hooked end sank into the side of Carter’s neck and held tight. Carter roared, hands going to their makeshift weapon. He jerked back as they yanked forward. The poker tore free, and Carter’s shout turned to a gurgle. Blood spilled over his hands, which were hovering over his ravaged throat. He stumbled forward one step, then two. On three, his knees buckled, sending him face forward into the fireplace with a sickening thud.

They stood there, breath heaving, gore-smeared poker held to the side, as they watched Carter’s limp body crumple to the pavers. Inside the Reaper’s body, two spirits watched, one filled with a terrible glee, the other numb.

An unnerving giggle filled the air, then Cora said, “Your turn.”

Feeling as if she was moving in a strange vacuum, Isa could only ask, “What?”

The spirit went from amused to threatening in less than a heartbeat. “I needed Carter to help me with Angel. Now bring him to me.”

The inky tendrils of Isa’s power were already sliding around Carter’s broken body, not because she wanted to do as Cora asked but because the vow’s binding demanded compliance. She called for Carter’s soul—part of her horrified, another resigned—as she pulled the soul pieces together.

Carter’s face was wreathed in confusion as he looked around. Cora rushed forward and threw her arms around him. “Hey, Carter! I’m so glad you’re here.”

The confusion on his face deepened even as his big arms came around her. “Cora? You’re okay?”

The spirit pulled back. “Now I am.”