“Doc!” I stepped closer, not sure what to do to help.
The smoke cleared. Ottó stood staring back at me. I rushed to him, pulling the lighter from my pocket. I flicked it to life and held it up in front of his eyes. Flat black pupils stared back at me.
“Fuck!” I stepped back, pocketing the lighter. How was I going to …
“You know what you have to do, Killer,” Ottó said. Or rather Doc. “I have it contained for now, but this vessel cannot hold it for long.”
Realization made my knees weak. I shook my head. “I can’t do it, Doc.”
“You have to.”
“No.”
“You heard Cornelius. It’s vulnerable in a vessel. This is its weakness.”
“I was killing it before you let it inside Ottó.”
“You were doing damage, but it heals too quickly.”
“No. I can do it. Just let it back out and I’ll—”
“That won’t work, Violet. You’ll tire and lose your advantage.”
“Jesus, Doc,” I said, my voice hitching. “I can’t.”
“Hurry! It’s strong and it knows our game now.”
I lifted my mace, choking up on it. Tears filled my eyes. “What if this kills you, too, Doc? I can’t take that chance. You have to let it back out now.”
“Swing, damn it!”
“I don’t want—”
Ottó’s jaw dropped and an earsplitting screech rang out. I leaned back in surprise, my breath catching. Fingers of smoke reached out of his mouth.
I swung hard!
My mace slammed into the side of Ottó’s head. An explosion of sparks blasted out from everywhere, like a huge flare going off. I shielded my eyes, stumbling backward as his body instantly disintegrated into a pile of flames on the floor.
“Oh, no, no, no, no!” I rushed over and stomped on the flames until the last one died out. And then there was only silence and darkness and me.
A breeze hit the building, making a loose piece of the corrugated tin roof on the outside stairwell rattle and creak.
“Doc?” I whispered in the quiet. Tears rolled down my cheek. “Please don’t be dead for real.”
I pulled out Cornelius’s lucky lighter and clicked it to life. In the flickering flame, the floor looked empty—no ashes, no soot, no black spot at all. All traces of the lidérc were gone.
“Where did it go?” I asked aloud. And did it take Doc with it?
I let the flame go dark and closed my eyes, listening, smelling, feeling, reaching out.
“It’s gone,” Cornelius said.
I gasped and opened my eyes. I was still in the hallway on the second floor of the building. Cornelius stood at the other end of the hall, wearing that crazy Viking helmet.
“The Tall Medium sent me here to tell you to stop messing around and come back. He says he’s cold and wants to go home so he can get busy helping you vent all of that suppressed aggression.”
A croaky laugh escaped from my throat. My hands trembled as I wiped away my tears. Oh, thank God! “He’s still alive?”
“Very much so.” Cornelius cocked his head to the side, as if listening for something. “Oh dear, we need to hurry. Detective Cooper just joined him. Apparently, there’s a problem with a friend of yours.”
Natalie! I hurried toward Cornelius, stopping in front of him. “How do I wake up quick?”
“That’s easy.” He leaned forward and shoved me, sending me flying backward.
I screamed as I tumbled into the darkness.
“Jesus, Parker!” Cooper’s voice was loud in my ears.
I opened my eyes and found myself on the floor staring up at the ceiling. Doc and Cooper leaned over me, one with a grin and the other with a scowl. I preferred the former, who was holding out his hand to help me up.
“You okay, Tish?” Doc asked as I made it topside.
I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down to me, kissing him with all of my heart until Cooper cursed at us extra loud. When I stepped back, it took me a few gulps of air to catch my breath. Then I hauled off and punched Doc in the shoulder, but not too hard. “Don’t you ever do that again. I thought I’d killed you, dammit.”
His grin turned sheepish. “Sorry. The idea hit me all of a sudden—you know, vulnerable in a small vessel.” Doc offered to take my mace.
It made sense—Ottó being that vessel, of course. I handed over my mace and then turned to Cornelius. “Next time, you need to warn me when you’re going to shove that hard.”
His crooked smile surfaced. “You should have seen your face.”
“Stop your chatting, Parker,” Cooper snapped. “We need to wrap this up.”
“Why, birthday boy?”
“It’s not my birthday yet.”
“Almost, though.” And we sure had a surprise coming for him this year. “What’s going on? Is Natalie okay?”
“Nat’s fine and so is your aunt.”
I sighed in relief. “Then why has your sweet little purr turned into snarly growls?”
He held up his cell phone. “I got a call from dispatch. It seems your damned buddy is back to his old tricks.”
“What buddy?” Was this about Rex? Or Ray?
His mouth flat-lined. “The fucking imp, Parker. Clear your shit out of here. You’re coming with me.”
The End … for now
Ann Charles is a USA Today bestselling author who writes award-winning mysteries that are splashed with humor, romance, paranormal, and whatever else she feels like throwing into the mix. When she is not dabbling in fiction, arm-wrestling with her children, attempting to seduce her husband, or arguing with her sassy cats, she is daydreaming of lounging poolside at a fancy resort with a blended margarita in one hand and a great book in the other.
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Books in the Deadwood Mystery Series
WINNER of the 2010 Daphne du Maurier Award for Excellence in Mystery/Suspense
WINNER of the 2011 Romance Writers of America® Golden Heart Award for Best Novel with Strong Romantic Elements
Welcome to Deadwood—the Ann Charles version. The world I have created is a blend of
