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“I want to see it from the outside first. I want to go through the door, not through a machine.”
“All right. Sixtieth floor,” he ordered. “Main bank.”
“I’ll ask you, whatever happens, not to leave me alone.”
“I won’t.” When the elevator doors opened, Roarke took her hand.
The bloody footprints still walked the carpet. Blood smears marred the walls where Jack had laid his hand for balance. In Roarke’s hand, Isis’s fingers tensed.
“People think of it as a cliché.” She stared at the door where the tail of blood made a six from the middle zero. “But it has power and meaning. It should be cleaned—all of this—with blessed water as soon as possible.”
Roarke stepped forward, drew out his master. And Eve strode off the elevator like vengeance.
“Wait. Didn’t I tell you to wait?”
“And so I did.” Roarke turned to her, his gaze as icy as hers was hot. “You’re late.”
She put herself between him and the door. “I know who did this. At least I know some of them. I can close this without the mumbo.”
“Nice to see you again, Eve.”
Eve shifted her gaze to Isis. “No offense. I appreciate you being willing to help, and in fact, have some questions you may be able to answer. You don’t have to see what’s in there.”
“I’ve already seen some of it, through him and now through you. Seen what’s trapped in your minds. But I can’t feel unless I go in. I can’t feel or see what she saw and felt unless I go in. I might help, I might not, but he needs it.”
Isis took Eve’s arms so that for a moment, she stood as the link between Eve and Roarke. “You know that.”
Eve yanked out her master and turned to the door. “When I say it’s done, it’s done,” she stated.
Roarke slipped the protection charm into her pocket as she unsealed the door.
She stepped in first. “Lights on full.” She turned quickly when she heard Isis let out a quick, shuddering breath. But Isis put out a hand, and took another step into the room.
“It reeks still, and will until it’s cleansed. No one can stay here until a cleansing. You feel it, do you feel it? This is not the work of a dabbler, not the vile work of one who only seeks blood and death for their own sake. This is power and purpose, and it brought the dark.”
“You’re going to tell me they called up Satan?”
Isis turned her black eyes on Eve. “I imagine he has more important things to do than answer a summons. But evil can be called, and it can be fed. You can’t do what you do and believe otherwise. Or see what you see.”
She stared at the pentagram, and the pools and rivers of blood that washed over it. “She doesn’t know me, neither in body nor spirit. I need some of her blood. Get that, while I prepare.”
She knelt and began taking items from her bag.
Eve said, “Crap,” but she stalked off to get swabs from the bathroom amenities.
“I’ll need three. Head, heart, hand.” Isis set out candles, crystals, herbs.
Though she rolled her eyes, Eve crossed to the pentagram. If she felt a pull when she stepped into it, she willfully pushed it away. She slapped a look toward Roarke as she coated the swabs. “If it ever gets out that I not only allowed but participated in some voodoo bullshit—”
He crouched beside her, took her free hand. “My lips are sealed as long as you want them to be. I owe you for this.”
“Damn right you do.”
“You’re so tired, darling Eve.” Before she could evade, he leaned to her, brushed her lips with his.
“There’s power there, too,” Isis murmured. “We’ll need it. Light the c
andles, please, and stand with me. Together with me while I cast the circle. Hurry. I can’t stay here long.
