The pinging of his cell phone interrupted my cursing.
Doc pulled the phone from his coat pocket. “Coop says that Natalie has Hawke racking pool balls at the Purple Door Saloon, and your aunt and Dominick were just served their appetizers, so we’re cleared for takeoff.” His phone pinged again. “He’s already waiting outside on the second-floor landing and wants you to hurry up because he’s freezing.”
“Fine. Sheesh.” I looked over at Cornelius, who was sitting cross-legged with his one-horned Viking helmet slightly askew. “You ready?”
He gave me a thumbs-up.
Doc squatted in front of me, cupping my face. He stared into my eyes. “You be careful in there, Tish. I need you back in one piece when this is all done.”
I nodded, my heart thumping hard now that it was time to finish the job. “No matter what, Doc, don’t cross the wards,” I reminded him. “We don’t know what might happen if the lidérc got its hands on an Oracle.”
“Got it.” He leaned down and kissed me. It was the slow and tender kind that made me daydream about rolling around in a field of flowers under a warm sun—preferably with Doc, but right now I’d even be happy to be there alone if it meant not sitting on a cold floor in a dilapidated building preparing to take on a Hungarian devil.
“Go get ’em, Killer,” he whispered and stepped outside of the circle. He walked over next to one of the windows, sliding down the wall to the floor.
Cornelius took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “Violet, don’t forget what I told you about the lidérc.”
“Right. It is at its most vulnerable when confined in a small vessel,” I said, repeating his so-called words of wisdom from Sunday night. I wasn’t sure how that was going to help me, but maybe I’d find a small jelly jar waiting for me upstairs to do the trick. I double-checked my coat pocket to make sure his lucky lighter was still there. I wanted a backup in case I was stuck in the dark again. “Cross your fingers I don’t burn this place down by accident.”
“Let’s not go down in flames tonight, Killer.”
I closed my eyes and focused on slowing my breathing. When my muscles relaxed, I turned my thoughts to my old friend, the candle flame. Cornelius began his rhythmic humming, which seemed to make the flame glow brighter this time, and grow bigger even. I tried to settle in and reach out into the darkness, but the dried amaranth was tickling my cleavage, making me twitch and wiggle while scratching here and there.
After several minutes of itchy torture, I reached inside of my shirt and yanked out the dried-up weed, tossing it away with a muttered curse.
Something heavy clomped across the floor behind me, sounding like a three-hundred-and-fifty pound gorilla wearing mule heels.
Hold up … Behind me?!!
Gripping my mace, I opened my eyes.
The window in front of me had no plastic covering. Shafts of moonlight shone through the glass, lining the floor. The clouds from earlier must have dispersed. A ward I knew well from hands-on practice was drawn on the wall. I was upstairs, and judging from the rasping noises behind me, I wasn’t alone.
I pushed to my feet, cringing as one of my knees popped. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. A familiar fetid stench I’d grown to hate surrounded me.
I turned around slowly.
Hovering not three feet away in all of its smoky glory was my good pal, the lidérc. Sparks dripped from its billowing form.
“Howdy, old terror,” I said. “Did you miss me?”
“Scharfri—”
I swung before it could finish my name. My mace tore through the smoke, the spikes on the end snagging on the bastard and leaving a trail of fire behind. It shrieked and shifted away from me, drifting over to the window.
“Come back here, darling,” I said, chasing after it. “We’re not done reminiscing.”
I swung again right as it tried to flee toward the corner of the room. My mace ripped through more smoke and shadow, a line of fire flaring again. An ear-piercing screech rang out, making me cringe.
Before I could blink, it rushed straight at me. Sidestepping, I swung again. The mace’s spikes ripped deep, sending a shower of sparks along with the flames this time.
Another shrill scream rang out as it fluttered away, trailing big drips of fire along the floor behind it. It moved into the hallway that led to the back of the building, dragging one of its hooves by the swishing sounds of it.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I ran after it, the thud of my boot heels echoing in the empty room.
The lidérc raced toward the big black spot on the wall at the other end of the hall.
Crap! It had escaped through that damned spot the last time we’d played this game. I threw my mace, the same as I had my war hammer months back. This time I was faster on the draw. The lidérc was almost to the spot on the wall when the mace slammed into its back, sending up a shower of sparks. It dropped to the floor, my mace falling close by.
I raced after it, only to skid to a stop when a thin, slightly hunched man stepped out from the back room and picked up my mace.
What the …
I squinted in the faint light coming from the lidérc’s flames and sparks, catching a glimpse of dark hair and a handlebar mustache. Holy hell! “Ottó? Is that you?”
What was he doing here? I hadn’t seen his ghost since the night I killed Caly in this very hallway.
“Not quite, Boots,” he said in a thick accent and tossed the mace to me.
I caught it and stepped closer, my mouth wide. “Doc? What are you doing here? How did you …”
The lidérc billowed up and swirled toward Ottó.
“No!” I yelled, raising my mace.
But I wasn’t quick enough.
The devil flew into Ottó,
