Page 61 of Bitter Spirits

Des looked back at Isa. “Angel’s gone.”

“No! No, no, no!” She started to struggle again, bucking against Locke’s hold. “We had a bargain! You promised.”

“The promise will be kept,” Des said, his voice smoothing out. “Angel will pay, but we need Isa to get to him.”

“She promised!” The wail contained nothing of Isa. The power around them flexed and flailed in an eerie echo of the woman struggling underneath him.

That wasn’t the Reaper, and it sure as shit wasn’t Isa. Understanding hit Locke like a freight train, shaking his composure, as Des tried to soothe the entity inside Isa’s body. His momentary distraction cost him as Isa bucked hard, ripping her arm free from his grip and clawing out. She raked at his neck, refocusing his attention. He caught her wrist in a bruising grip and forced her back down. His mind spun with questions as Des continued to talk the entity down. Eventually, Isa’s wails turned to sobs then finally fell quiet, as did the magic saturating the room.

Locke listened to Des softly cajole the entity, the tormented spirit of a murdered girl named Caro, into revealing how Isa had struck a deal with her. The magical energy eased back with each passing moment, the shadows fading away, the air resettling around them. Under him, Locke could feel the tension ebbing from Isa’s body as his own aches and pains made themselves known. He stayed vigilant, not wanting to be taken off guard again, but emotionally, he was struggling. He wanted to rail at Isa for taking such a risk, even though logic argued she’d had no idea if or when help would arrive. Ceding control of one’s body to a vengeful spirit was a recipe for disaster, even for a skilled Reaper. From what he was hearing, it sounded like Isa had deliberately fed Cora power, fueling the entity’s fury before allowing it control. A fucking dangerous decision.

He tried not to worry as Des did his best to convince Cora that Angel would pay and she should let Isa return, but it was taking too long. Had Cora taken too much, leaving Isa weak? Or maybe Angel had managed to do something to Isa before the bargain was struck. That last ugly fear fractured his heart, whispering he might have already lost Isa.

He lowered his head to hers. “Please, reinita, I need you to fight. Come back to me.”

Des fell quiet.

A shudder ran through Isa.

Locke closed his eyes and sent a prayer to whoever was listening. Please bring her back.

Seconds ticked by, marked by the drum of his heart, and then finally…

“I’m here.”

Chapter 19

Isa

Isa woke with a gasp, heart pounding as she blinked into the darkness. Fuzzed by disturbing dreams, it took her a moment to realize she was in Locke’s bed. His empty bed. She lifted the sheet to her nose and inhaled, taking in his familiar woodsy scent that saturated his sheets. It eased the worst of her jitters, and bit by bit, her muscles uncoiled. Still, there was a lingering sense of disconnection to her body, as if it didn’t quite belong to her.

Because for a while, it hadn’t.

Behind the wall she’d built, Cora’s voracious need for retribution awoke and searched for an escape route. Finding none, it resettled, sullen, to wait and plot. She didn’t have to be an Oracle like Cass to know it wouldn’t wait for long. There would be another clash with Angel, and when that happened, the cracks would widen, and then… She forced her thoughts to go blank, not needing the reminder of the edge she skated along, but Cora’s needs were not ignored so easily, lurking in the shadows like a monster.

Isa did her damnedest to ignore it. Lying on her side, she uncurled from the defensive ball she slept in and stretched out her legs. She forced her shoulders to loosen and unbent her arms, smoothing a hand over the soft cotton sheets. She stared into the quiet darkness, able to make out the nightstand and the lump of her phone in the hint of light seeping from the partially closed bathroom door as her thoughts circled like a flock of birds. For a long moment, she let them dance. Then, resigned to the inevitable, she allowed them to land.

She’d let fear and pride drive her decisions—again—and Angel had gotten away. Again. All her posturing during the last few years of breaking free from his insidious hold lay in shambles, revealing the stark truth. She had shattered his manipulative hold years ago, only to replace it with her self-doubts and debilitating fears that kept the wound open, allowing him access. And for Angel, that was akin to giving him an open vein into which to sink his poison deep, eroding her ties to everything and everyone. He’d done it before with her father and Pilar, leaving Isa with no choice but to cut ties to her old life and family, and now his venom was spreading into her current reality. She needed to grant herself forgiveness for her decision to cut those destructive ties and rebuild with a family of her choosing. One made up of people who didn’t tear her apart but stood beside her, offering support when everything started to crumble.

Like Des. He’d been truly worried as he bargained with Cora. Even buried under the Reaper, Isa had felt his concern and his unshakable resolve not to lose her to the deal she’d made. He, more than most, understood how steep that price could be—how the Reaper could devour all that made her Isa. As she struggled to push past the combined demands of the Reaper and Cora, Des stayed steady and strong, his determination lighting the way back, and that journey hadn’t been easy. Splitting her attention between Angel and Cora allowed Cora to feed too long and too deep, which twisted the spirit into something insatiable. Yes, she owed Cora her vengeance and had gone so far as to give her oath that it would be exacted. That oath would bind Isa until the debt was paid. But for one heart-stopping moment, she’d almost chosen another route. A shiver crawled over her skin as she remembered how Cora’s vengeance found the malicious heart of Isa’s rage, how it whispered and cajoled, making dark promises. Then had come Des’s voice, drawing not just her but Cora’s spirit as well, pulling them away from the yawning pit atop which they teetered .

And then there was Locke. Her heart stuttered. “Come back to me.” The emotion behind his plea had the hot press of tears rising unexpectedly. It wasn’t condemnation or even anger but something infinitely more precious. She didn’t dare name it, but she could feel it as he lay on top of her, not hurting her but shielding her as he pressed her into the floor. She remembered the raw vulnerability of his voice slipping past the storm of destructive darkness to fall like a gentle rain on her savaged heart. She desperately wished she could return his offering. She ached to be that open, to risk that much, but she wasn’t sure she was brave enough. A hot tear rolled to the pillow. Would he wait for her to find the strength to shove past her self-imposed walls?

On the nightstand, her phone buzzed, and the screen lit up. Her heart gave a painful thump. No good news came in the middle of the damn night. She swiped at her face then grabbed her phone, trying not to think what calamity was barreling toward her next. When she saw the name on screen, she wasn’t sure if she should be amused or terrified. Probably both.

“Hey, Cass.”

“Hey, you,” her best friend said. “Are you okay?”

“Shouldn’t that be my question? Last time we spoke, you were worried.” That was putting it lightly.

Cass had headed up to Vegas for her beloved grandmother’s funeral, which required interacting with her shitty family. Knowing what lay in wait, Isa and Des hadn’t wanted her to go alone, and luckily, Locke’s friend Grayson, who lived in Vegas, offered her a ride. Even better, he stayed with Cass, which Isa appreciated, since the Ambroses had behaved as badly as she’d expected. At the family’s house, Cass’s mother flung endless snide digs at her oldest daughter, ensuring that they drew blood, while Cass’s spineless father stayed out of the line of fire. As if that weren’t bad enough, Cass learned her sister, Sofia, the daughter who could do no wrong, was engaged to some desperate-to-impress idiot with his head up Cass’s mother’s ass, but something was off, and Cass was worried. She and Isa had discussed it a couple of days ago, and Isa had offered to help however she could. She’d meant it, even though she wasn’t Sofia’s biggest fan. She’d watched Cass try to salvage her relationship with her baby sister over and over again only to get slapped down.

“How’s Sofia?”

“Well, the engagement is definitely off.”

Concerned at the strained note in her friend’s voice, Isa sat up, cramming pillows between her back and the headboard before leaning back. “Spill.”