Ravenous

'Yes, and he has the book.'

'The Book of Lies?'

Alessandro looked startled that she knew the name of it. 'Yes. Call Perry; he's minutes away. Get him to escort you to Omara.'

'No!' The venom in her system erupted, making her frantic that he was leaving her side. 'Don't do this! Don't go!' She covered her face with her hands, mortified.

He said nothing.

'I'm sorry.' She looked up. 'Venom talking. Of course you have to.'

He looked crushed, but at the same time impatient. 'Go outside and wait. Stay out of sight. You've got your magic. You'll be safe, but stay out of there.' He pointed to the bedroom. 'Get away from the portal.'

With that Alessandro rushed toward the stairway. Holly caught her breath as he leaped, spread his arms, and sailed over the banister rail, his long coat floating out behind him. He hung in midair for the barest second. Then he was gone, swooping down the stairwell.

Emotions muddy with frustration, Holly stared at the spot where Alessandro had hovered a moment before plunging after his quarry. They had found the book. That was great, but now she was alone.

She could feel the venom itching along her nerves with doubled intensity. It was so much easier to cope with when Alessandro was nearby. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, doing her best to pretend the gnawing sensation was happening to somebody else.

Her call to Perry went to voice mail. She left a message. The cell reception was bad, probably the fault of the portal.

Alessandro had said to leave the house. He had ordered her to go. Her feet turned, driven by his command—but being told not to do something was the biggest incentive to do it. Automatically she looked at the forbidden bedroom. I want to see the portal.

Now that the guardsman had gone, there was only a trickle of orange light. The spell had not been complete, and now it was collapsing. Watching that might teach her something useful, like how to close a portal herself.

But Alessandro's command had been clear, and she bore his mark. Her feet began to take her toward the stairs. The compulsion felt like a sticky web dragging her forward.

Get off me!

She tried to yank herself free of the clinging energy, but it stuck fast, winding her tighter in its hold. Anger, frantic and hot, shredded her focus, miring her deeper in the web.

Get. Off. Me. She was caught tighter than ever.

So she froze, giving the trap no more energy. She panted, short, sharp gulps, stilling her wheeling brain. I can't be like this. I can't. I can't.

Rage. Despair. It was all useless. Instead she found the ghost of her will, the flickering shadow the mark had left behind. I'm strong enough. Of course I am. I rode the ley lines. I blew off the door.

Disobedience was harder.

Never mind. With the pool of energy under this house, I can still use my magic.

Forming the image of a knife in her mind, she reached down beneath the house, accessing the wild earth energy. It roiled under her touch, brazen with vitality. It was the stuff of nature, the soul of the ground beneath her. Riotous. Feral. Untamed. Free.

She poured power into her will, shaping it, refining it. She imagined the silver-bladed knife on her dresser at home, one she had reclaimed from the box under her bed. She was through hiding her tools, through bowing to the will of other people, even those she loved.

Let the winds of the East give me wings.

Let the fires of the South give me passion.

Let the seas of the West give me life.

Let the stones of the North give me strength.

Goddess and God, let this prayer set me free.

The short, sharp blade was bright as starlight. The pleasure of its familiar form, worn to the shape of her hand, restored a sense of balance to her mind.

She knew this knife. She knew how to use it. It was hers.

A new equilibrium hushed the clamor of the venom. Stilled the cloying pull of the mark.

The knife was straight.

Graceful.

Honed sharp and true.

In her mind Holly took it in her hand and used that knife, her will, to cut herself free. The web of the mark fell limply into nothing, dissolving to pale light before it smeared to a wisp.

Oh, Goddess. Stomach unwinding, shoulders easing, Holly drew her first deep breath since Mac had shown up on her porch. Tears surprised her aching eyelids, and she trembled with grief and release. Now she could move where she wanted to go. Her will was her own.

She slumped against the wall, trembling with relief. Thank you.

Time to act. Slowly Holly entered the bedroom, trying to look everywhere at once. All that was left of the portal was a swirling, pumpkin-hued glob about the size of a manhole cover. It drooled ectoplasm down the wall with the enthusiasm of a Newfoundland dog. The room smelled like burned toast.

She heard the scrape of a shoe behind her.

Holly whirled, searching the shadows. In the back of her mind the house chuckled. Nerves and irritation jittered down Holly's spine. Cursing the failing light, she let her gaze flit from corner to corner.

'Hello, Holly.'

The words, the voice, were too familiar. She spun around, terror jamming in her chest. She'd heard those words too often, whispered sweetly in the dark.

Ben in the doorway, with a gun.

Her throat closed until she could barely breathe out her words. 'What in Hades are you doing here?'

'Keeping very quiet and hoping the monsters won't find me. But look, you're here.'

'Talk.' Her patience ripped like wet paper. 'Because I'll blow your face off if you don't.'

Ben looked at her stubbornly. 'I have a gun. Silver bullets.'

Holly raised her hand, wiggling her fingers. 'I've already got my weapon out.'

'Witch.' His mouth curled in disgust.

'Why are you here, Ben? This place nearly killed you.'

'I'm here because the guardsmen turned on me. Took my book. It's not fair. I paid a lot of money for it.'

'The Book of Lies'? You bought it?' Holly's voice rose with incredulity. Of course, his family had that kind of money.

'Yeah, and the guards have been after it—and me—since the demon came through.' He looked at the gun in his hand. 'I was going to force the guardsman to give it back, but I…'

He didn't have to finish. Holly knew Ben had never been physically brave. He would never have confronted the guard.

He sighed. 'I tried to hide here. The house knows me. I've bargained with it before.'

'Bargained? What would you have that the house wants?'

Ben said nothing, letting the gun drift to his side. His expression was odd, pinched.

Then she knew. Ben was one of the fraternity sponsors who bought the Flanders house from Raglan. The house needs lives.

'The fraternity? You led them to this place? You… Why the…' Holly choked, suddenly at a loss for air. 'Why?' She stopped, breathing hard. 'What are you doing, Ben?'

'What I have to.'