what they say. It’s not the size…”
Prendergast squeals as she squeezes. She laughs. “Just think of the perks, worm. Specifically, me.” She glances back to Sophie. “He doesn’t have a family, does he?”
“Not one he’s close to in spite of his story. A sister in Australia. A cousin in the Midwest. I checked. He does have a fiancé, though.”
“Good. A fiancé is easily disposed of.” She lets him go. “Well, witch, what are you waiting for? Let’s do it.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Prendergast’s face is crumbling, as if he can’t understand what he’s hearing and is too frightened to try to make sense of it. He shrinks back against the bar like a turtle pulling into a shell. Is he trying to make himself less vulnerable, less exposed? It only makes him look pathetic.
Sophie’s face, on the other hand, is determined, a granite mask of resolve and tenacity. She pulls more crystals from the bag, more candles, white this time. She chooses a bundle of herbs tied with a flax ribbon and sets them aside with the vial of clear liquid she withdrew earlier. She walks over to the pentagram. She sweeps away the black candles and crystals with the back of her hand. Then she leans down and draws a circle around the star. She sets out the new candles, arranges the crystals around the perimeter of the circle. She stands up and surveys her work.
“Good. I think we’re ready.”
She goes to her bag. This time she withdraws a piece of paper and turns to me.
“You’ll have to help.”
“Me?”
She hands me the paper. “Read this as soon as the crystals ignite.”
I look it over. “What is this? Latin? I can’t read Latin.”
Leticia stalks over, grabs the paper from my hand. “I can read it. I went to school in Boston when Latin was still taught. Unlike the modern educational system that has steadfastly stripped education of all that is important.” She reads the words to herself, then fixes Sophie with a warning glare. “This is a prayer for an exorcism. To rid a host of a demon. Jonathan is not a demon.”
“That’s what I said.” I can’t help repeating what I told Sophie earlier. Most of the world might think of vampires as demons, I refuse.
“Read it more carefully,” Sophie says calmly. “I replaced the word ‘demon’ with a more innocuous word. ‘Spirit’. And I changed the rite. Instead of banishing the spirit to the underworld, it will send the spirit into another human host. Prendergast’s body.”
Prendergast finally rouses himself. Color returns to his pale face. “You can’t do this. I won’t let you.” He hears what he’s saying, rubs a hand over his face, shaking his head. “Am I crazy? Is this a nightmare? I’m leaving. And if anyone of you tries to follow me, I swear I’ll—”
He gets no farther. At first I think Leticia has done something—or Sophie—to stop him. It isn’t until he clutches a hand to his chest and bends forward at the waist that I hear it. His heart thudding in his chest. Again I think Sophie is doing it.
I whirl on her. “Stop, Sophie. You’ll kill him.”
She turns wide eyes on me. “I’m not doing anything.” When she sees my dark frown, she raises a hand. “I swear. It’s not me.”
Leticia reaches him first, places a palm flat against his heaving chest. “I think he’s having a heart attack.”
“Then we need to call an ambulance.”
“No.” Sophie grabs my arm. “We’ll save him by working the spell. Leticia, bring him to the circle. Quickly.”
Leticia doesn’t hesitate. She sweeps a gasping Prendergast into her arms. “What do I do?”
“Put him the circle.”
Leticia sets Prendergast on his feet. His breathing is quick, shallow. He grabs at his left arm. “Please. I have a heart condition. In my pocket. Nitroglycerine.”
Leticia casts a glance in Sophie’s direction. “Will it affect the spell?”
Sophie shakes her head. “I don’t think so. And we need him alive.”
Leticia searches his
Prendergast squeals as she squeezes. She laughs. “Just think of the perks, worm. Specifically, me.” She glances back to Sophie. “He doesn’t have a family, does he?”
“Not one he’s close to in spite of his story. A sister in Australia. A cousin in the Midwest. I checked. He does have a fiancé, though.”
“Good. A fiancé is easily disposed of.” She lets him go. “Well, witch, what are you waiting for? Let’s do it.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Prendergast’s face is crumbling, as if he can’t understand what he’s hearing and is too frightened to try to make sense of it. He shrinks back against the bar like a turtle pulling into a shell. Is he trying to make himself less vulnerable, less exposed? It only makes him look pathetic.
Sophie’s face, on the other hand, is determined, a granite mask of resolve and tenacity. She pulls more crystals from the bag, more candles, white this time. She chooses a bundle of herbs tied with a flax ribbon and sets them aside with the vial of clear liquid she withdrew earlier. She walks over to the pentagram. She sweeps away the black candles and crystals with the back of her hand. Then she leans down and draws a circle around the star. She sets out the new candles, arranges the crystals around the perimeter of the circle. She stands up and surveys her work.
“Good. I think we’re ready.”
She goes to her bag. This time she withdraws a piece of paper and turns to me.
“You’ll have to help.”
“Me?”
She hands me the paper. “Read this as soon as the crystals ignite.”
I look it over. “What is this? Latin? I can’t read Latin.”
Leticia stalks over, grabs the paper from my hand. “I can read it. I went to school in Boston when Latin was still taught. Unlike the modern educational system that has steadfastly stripped education of all that is important.” She reads the words to herself, then fixes Sophie with a warning glare. “This is a prayer for an exorcism. To rid a host of a demon. Jonathan is not a demon.”
“That’s what I said.” I can’t help repeating what I told Sophie earlier. Most of the world might think of vampires as demons, I refuse.
“Read it more carefully,” Sophie says calmly. “I replaced the word ‘demon’ with a more innocuous word. ‘Spirit’. And I changed the rite. Instead of banishing the spirit to the underworld, it will send the spirit into another human host. Prendergast’s body.”
Prendergast finally rouses himself. Color returns to his pale face. “You can’t do this. I won’t let you.” He hears what he’s saying, rubs a hand over his face, shaking his head. “Am I crazy? Is this a nightmare? I’m leaving. And if anyone of you tries to follow me, I swear I’ll—”
He gets no farther. At first I think Leticia has done something—or Sophie—to stop him. It isn’t until he clutches a hand to his chest and bends forward at the waist that I hear it. His heart thudding in his chest. Again I think Sophie is doing it.
I whirl on her. “Stop, Sophie. You’ll kill him.”
She turns wide eyes on me. “I’m not doing anything.” When she sees my dark frown, she raises a hand. “I swear. It’s not me.”
Leticia reaches him first, places a palm flat against his heaving chest. “I think he’s having a heart attack.”
“Then we need to call an ambulance.”
“No.” Sophie grabs my arm. “We’ll save him by working the spell. Leticia, bring him to the circle. Quickly.”
Leticia doesn’t hesitate. She sweeps a gasping Prendergast into her arms. “What do I do?”
“Put him the circle.”
Leticia sets Prendergast on his feet. His breathing is quick, shallow. He grabs at his left arm. “Please. I have a heart condition. In my pocket. Nitroglycerine.”
Leticia casts a glance in Sophie’s direction. “Will it affect the spell?”
Sophie shakes her head. “I don’t think so. And we need him alive.”
Leticia searches his
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