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He puffed out a breath that was a mix of anger and frustration. “Then we have even less time. Stand back and keep watch. If this is the work of your wraith, then he’s going to feel me disentangling this critter.”
I stepped back and rubbed my arms, a mix of hopelessness and anger washing through me.
None of this is your fault, Belle said sharply. You’ve done everything possible to save her.
Maybe, but I should have known better than attempt to detach the shushunjë—
You weren’t to know it had multiple suckers.
I knew it was dangerous. The damn thing attacked me.
I’m thinking it was more likely warning you off. After all, if this is part of our sorcerer’s evil plot, he wouldn’t want you dead just yet. Belle gave me the mental equivalent of a hug. What he wants is your hopelessness and your rage, so don’t you fucking dare give it to him.
A smile tugged reluctantly at my lips, but I didn’t reply as Samuel’s magic surged. I crossed all things that his worked where mine had failed and watched him carefully weave a spell around the shushunjë that nullified its ability to move and feed. Then, with a second spell he applied with knife-sharp precision, he began removing the needle-fine suckers from Deni’s neck.
It was a long and tediously slow processes.
By the time the leech was removed and had been sliced in half with what I presumed was a blessed silver knife, Deni had been without oxygen for nigh on six minutes. Brain damage usually began around four.
He started CPR, but it didn’t help. The shushunjë had done its job too well, draining her life force to the point of no return.
Even now, her spirit was rising.
At least we gave her that, Belle said. At least she can move on and live other lives.
We don’t know that wouldn’t have happened anyway. I rubbed my arms against the increasing chill of weariness and fear. From the sound of it, they leech energy, not souls.
Except this one had been in the hands of a dark master—who knows what his magic might have done to it.
And might still do to us. Fear stomped through my soul, but I did my best to ignore it. Belle was right—that’s what this bastard wanted, and even if I achieved nothing else, I would not give him that.
The ambulance crew arrived and took over from Samuel, but after another ten minutes, terminated treatment. While they couldn’t officially pronounce her dead, they noted the time of death, then placed her covered body on a trolley and wheeled her away toward the ambulance.
I watched them go, tears trickling down my face.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Samuel said softly.
“Don’t be,” I said. “In truth, I really didn’t know her.”
“Estranged or not, family is family.” He gently squeezed my shoulder. “We will get this bastard, you can be sure of that.”
I glanced at him. “If you think I’ll be sitting on the sidelines—”
He raised a hand to stop the rest of that sentence. “I think we all know the devil himself wouldn’t stop you hunting this thing down now. I just want you to promise to keep me informed and to not go after it alone.”
I hesitated and then nodded. “But if it grabs Belle, all bets are off.”
“Then let’s ensure it doesn’t grab Belle.”
“I can definitely get behind that,” she said.
I glanced at her. “You do realize this means you—and probably Ashworth and Eli—will have to go into protective custody, be it at Hattie’s place or somewhere else.”
Belle snorted. “I think we both know what Ashworth’s response to that will be.”
Probably the same as what mine would have been. But they’d do it, simply to protect Belle. Besides, in this place there was no one else I’d trust to protect her. Not even Samuel and his people. To be honest, I would have preferred us all to pack up and leave this shithole, but that was impossible right now. I had both the magic reevaluation and the trial to attend tomorrow, and leaving would only delay, not end, both. Besides, it was better for everyone if I was out there, moving around. It would draw the wraith’s attention, keeping him watching me rather than the people I cared about.
Which did not really include my blood family, but I guessed I couldn’t let them die. My overactive sense of guilt would make me pay for years and years if I did.
