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“It hasn’t twitched. Larissa’s not the source of this deviation, nor, I believe, the one who called the soul eater into being.”
I studied him for a second. “That being the case, do you believe the Ouija board was the soul eater’s gateway into this world?”
“It’s highly unlikely. I think the dark spirit we encountered at Frankie’s was what they called into being, and our soul eater came from an entirely different source.”
I frowned. “So the Ouija board was little more than a cover?”
“One that was essentially used to fudge who their true targets were.”
“If that’s true,” Aiden said, “then they’ve damn well succeeded.”
“Perhaps,” Ashworth said, his tone noncommittal and his gaze on me. “And perhaps not.”
“Left again at the next street,” I said, ignoring his unspoken demand to say what I knew.
We bumped over an old train line, then did a sharp left onto a much smaller road, the truck skidding sideways for a few seconds before Aiden brought it under control.
The beat of evil sharpened dramatically, and goose bumps crawled across my skin.
We were close. So close.
“Slow down. We’re almost there.”
He switched off the lights and siren, and then slowed. We crawled along the narrow road, passing a number of homes, until the sense of evil became so strong it damn near stole my breath.
“Stop,” Ashworth said, before I could. “It’s in the next house. And fuck, it’s strong.”
“Can you deal with it?” Aiden stopped the truck and hauled on the hand brake.
“Yes, but not without the proper preparations—”
“Do whatever you need to, but do it quickly,” Aiden cut in. “I don’t need to be dealing with another body right now.”
“I can work magic, Ranger, not miracles,” Ashworth bit back. “The more powerful the damn spell needed, the longer it will take.”
“The only problem with that,” I said, as the pulse of evil reached a crescendo, “is that we haven’t got long.”
I grabbed my backpack, scrambled out of the truck, and raced for the house.
“Liz, wait,” Aiden said.
I didn’t, because I couldn’t. Not if we wanted any hope of saving the soul eater’s target. But even as I neared the front door, a scream broke the night’s silence. A scream that was long, fear-filled, and then abruptly cut off. At the same time, the crescendo of evil peaked and then fell away. I cursed and reached for the door handle, only to discover it was locked.
“Move.” Aiden’s voice was cold. Angry. Not at me as much as the thing that was no longer inside.
He raised a booted foot and kicked the door open. It slammed back hard, and plaster flew as the handle buried into the wall. The hallway beyond was shadowed and carpeted, and the air smelled faintly of cinnamon and toast.
“Stay—”
“Don’t even fucking think that, Aiden.” My voice was a harsh whisper. “I may not be much of a witch, but if this thing attacks, I’m far better equipped to deal with it than you.”
He hesitated, and then nodded. “But stay behind me, just in case we’re dealing with another man mountain.”
That I was more than happy to do. He stepped cautiously inside, his boots leaving imprints on the lush carpet. I unzipped the pack, pulled out the knife, and then followed, making sure I kept the silver blade well away from him.
Even though he didn’t say anything, he was obviously aware of its presence, given the way his back twitched. But then, he’d only recently recovered from being stabbed with silver, and as a result, was probably even more sensitive now to its presence than most wolves.
We crept past two doorways, but didn’t stop. Though evil had all but fled, the last few remnants of its presence pulsed in the room at the far end of the hall—a room that—if the tiles were anything to go by—was a kitchen area.
