“Hello, Melchora,” Fiona says.
Slowly, Melchora’s foggy eyes turn to Fiona. Her lips stretch into a sinister smile. “It’s good to see you, old friend,” she hisses. “I wish you had not become involved.”
“Me, too, dear.”
Bam! An explosion behind me makes me flinch. Melchora’s body bounces back, forcing her to stagger for balance.
All eyes turn to Paige. She stands with two hands on her smoking gun, which is pointed right at Melchora. The witch hisses at Paige, not at all affected by the bullets.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Fiona says. “Now you’ve made her angry.”
With that, Fiona extends an outstretched hand toward the kitchen range. In an instant, the blue flames leap from the burners to her fist. She grabs the fire like a whip then flings the flames at Melchora.
With inhuman speed, Melchora sidesteps the fiery attack as it crashes onto the floor. She blows air into her fists then thrusts forward her open palms. A powerful wind blasts out of her hands and knocks Fiona back, scattering all the ingredients in her kitchen and extinguishing the flames behind her.
Without taking her eyes from Fiona, Melchora extends her bony finger toward me. She says one word to the spirit beside her. “Matar.”
Santa Muerte’s skeletal face contorts into a grotesque smile.
“Stay behind me,” I tell Paige.
She takes a step to stand beside me, ready to fight. Santa Muerte floats toward us, looking to strike. Her figure sways from side to side like a serpent as she approaches. Paige and I back away.
She strikes, her bony claw rushing toward my chest, and I grab her by the wrist, stopping her. Paige shoulder-checks Santa Muerte, catches her arm, and pulls it away from my heart. I hold Santa Muerte’s arms tightly and feel skin sliding over bone. With Paige’s strength, I’m able to keep the entity from plunging her fingers into my sternum.
Santa Muerte attacks again, this time trying to bite at me with her jagged teeth. Unable to release my grip on her still-extended arms, I twist away and try to keep our arms between us as a defense. Clack, clack, clack! The jaws chomp with such force that bits of teeth break off and fly into my face.
The alarm on my watch starts beeping. My heart rate is accelerating. Blood warms in my body. The power starts to surge, and I test my strength, pushing back the claw. It works. Dudley’s power is starting to build.
Santa Muerte stops, and our eyes lock. This is the creature who holds the key to my salvation. If I could grab the veil, I could restrain her and get the name.
My eyes remain on Santa Muerte, but I can hear the chaos around me. Crashing metal and flashes of light hint at the epic battle between the two witches. With Paige gripping one arm, I try to hold the entity with one hand and reach with the other to grab the veil from my pocket. Santa Muerte pushes back, and I need all my strength to keep her at bay.
The ebb and flow of our struggle spins us around. Somewhere in the room, I hear the flapping of wings. Gray feathers fly in my peripheral vision.
Santa Muerte releases me and floats backward. Her black eyes shift to Paige.
Shit.
She lunges, extending her bony claws toward Paige’s chest. Now Paige is pushing, and I’m pulling Santa Muerte off her. We rotate our momentum into a circle, slamming ourselves into the kitchen counter.
I try to protect Paige by keeping myself between her and Santa Muerte. Out of the corner of my eye, I see lightning bolts scatter across the ceiling. Fiona’s body sails through the air and lands with a thud against a nearby wall.
Momentarily distracted, Santa Muerte reaches around me and grabs Paige by the arm. My defense shifts, and the entity takes the opportunity to bite down onto my neck. She doesn’t just take one bite but tears repeatedly into my skin like a wild animal. Flesh is ripped from my body, and I scream in agony. Warm blood flows easily from my wound, soaking into the collar of my shirt. Sweat drips from my brow as I struggle, and I suddenly become aware of how hot I am.
I know now why Fiona didn’t want me taking any Klonopin. She was counting on Dudley’s help. I clutch at the specter’s hair and yank her back to pull her jaws away from me.
“Get the veil now!” I shout. Paige struggles to reach into my coat pocket.
My mind races to think of something calming, but all I can think about is the wild creature attacking me. I know that this really is Elizabeth, but all I can see is something as demonic as I am. All I see is Santa Muerte.
Paige’s hand digs furiously into the pockets of my coat. “Pants pocket!” I yell. She switches gears, searching in every wrong pocket of my jeans. Finally, she gets the right pocket, but when I raise my thigh to kick against Santa Muerte, Paige’s hand gets stuck.
Melchora slams against the ceiling, crushing a lamp. Sparks rain down. She remains pinned to the lighting fixture by some invisible force.
Then Paige screams. I look back and see that Santa Muerte’s bony claws have torn at Paige’s sleeve, leaving four bloody marks. She hurt my friend.
The secondary alarm sounds on my watch. My heart rate is at one hundred ninety beats per minute. Screw flight—I’m in fight mode. A monstrous roar bellows from within.
Santa Muerte’s eyes turn to me. I can sense her fear.
I charge forward with all my strength—with Dudley’s intensifying strength—and lift her above my head then slam her against a glass table. The table shatters as we crash to the floor.
“Darcy!” Fiona shouts. “Control it!” The sound is muffled.
My hands are wrapped around the throat of Santa Muerte as I lean over her. Melchora falls to the floor beside us. She reaches out to me to stop. Her face is filled with panic. She looks suddenly vulnerable,
