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“I don’t have time for this, Ren. Either do as I say or go back to the truck.”

His eyes flashed bright gold—his fox not cool with the way I was talking to him—but I couldn’t be gentle right then. I needed him to understand how dangerous this could be. I couldn’t lose him, he was too important to me, to all of us.

“Fine,” he said low. “But there’s no way I’m waiting in the goddamn truck.”

I gave him a nod and he followed me across the street. I slipped my blade free as we approached the door, sliding it up under my sleeve. There were low-level vibrations radiating from it now, letting me know danger was close by, telling me to be ready.

The more I used the knife’s gifts, the easier I could read its vibrations. But if there was imminent danger, it sounded an alarm in my body, in my mind, that was impossible to miss. It set my muscles in motion, adrenaline shooting through my veins, and the blade made a kind of shrieking sound that only I could hear. And when I threw it, as long as the range wasn’t too far, I never missed.

We reached the door. Music was spilling out, classic rock, of course. There was a lot of other noise as well, and at first I thought what I was hearing was loud singing or maybe even fighting, but then I pushed the door open.

I was wrong.

It was screaming.

Chapter 6

Willow

In the center of the room, a man stood laughing—he was covered in blood, and there were two mutilated bodies at his feet, both women. A third he held by her throat. She was bleeding and terrified.

Judging by his colorless eyes, twisted expression, and the way the vine markings on my side burned like actual fire, I’d say I’d just found another malevolent spirit.

If I didn’t do something now, the woman he was holding was dead as well.

Fuck.

Swinging my satchel around to the front, I shoved my hand inside and grabbed a handful of salt from the side pocket. Usually, I’d use it to contain the soul, but right now my need was more immediate. I rushed him and tossed it in his eyes. He roared, dropping the woman.

Gripping her arm, I yanked her back toward Ren. He grabbed her, dragging her away as I quickly took another bag of salt mixed with cemetery dirt—not something I usually carried, but this latest task had me stocking up—and stabbed it with my blade.

I ran in a tight circle around him before he realized what I was doing. He hissed, watching me with wide, revolting black eyes.

“Everyone out!” I yelled.

The people standing around in obvious shock had no idea what this was, but they scattered, a stampede of terrified humans running for the door. Ren crouched over the injured woman, pressing his hand to the deep wound across her stomach, trying to staunch the blood.

“What do I do?” he said, sounding terrified.

“Get her to the hospital.”

The possessed man rushed forward and hissed when he came up against the barrier I’d created.

A siren wailed in the distance. “Someone’s called an ambulance. Get her outside and wait.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Get her out of here, then bring me the bag from the front seat of my truck.” I’d packed it to take to Warrick’s in the morning, but it looked like I’d be performing an exorcism right now.

I spun to him when he didn’t move. “Ren…”

“She’s dead,” he said, eyes huge.

“You’re sure?”

He nodded shakily. “What do I do?”

“Put her down, and go get the bag from my truck, okay?”