She walked around the hole, holding the shovel out. She positioned herself to hit him again. This time, he could tell she was going to bring the metal part down on top of his head. He moved around and lowered his head beneath the hole so she couldn’t get a good angle. After a few minutes of him struggling like a worm, she hit him in the back with the shovel, hard, and he fell facedown onto Todd Sutton’s faded jeans that were white from lime and felt his skin and eyes burning. He closed his eyes and prepared for the blow he knew was about to come from behind. She had a perfect shot at the back of his skull. Only then did Ben begin to laugh at the absurdity of his situation. After all these months of looking for Todd Sutton, he was about to die—in a hole—next to the poor missing bastard: the two of them, entwined forever in a shallow grave in his own fucking backyard.
This thought gave him one last burst of energy. He probably was going to die today, but damned if he was going to go down like this. Through the tape, he screamed, more of a rallying cry for himself. Then he rolled forward and put his legs up; they absorbed the blow of the shovel as she brought it down, sending it sailing across the stones. She scurried to retrieve it. With the shovel in her grasp, she turned back… and Ben nearly cried with a mixture of joy and dread when he spotted Lara Barnes walking through the garden gate directly behind Marla.
Lara stood behind Marla, unsure of what to do next. The entire scene was a mess. Ben appeared to have his mouth covered with electrical tape and had been pushed into a deep hole. Lara had a sinking feeling about what else was in that hole with him.
“Ben,” she called. “Are you okay?” She could see from his expression that he was worried about her.
“Have you come to rescue him?” Marla turned, smiling. “If so, you’re just in time.” She held on to the shovel and cocked her head as she took in Lara. “Something has changed in you, hasn’t it?” It was clear that Marla knew Cecile’s essence had joined with Lara’s. “What has Father gone and done now. Hello, Cecile.”
“You haven’t changed a bit, Esmé.” Lara’s tone was sharp, but the words weren’t hers. Cecile had taken over. After a long sleep, Cecile had come awake. Lara could feel herself growing in strength with each passing minute, like they were fusing in strength and magic.
“Let’s just say that every few years I get a little rejuvenation. How is the old bastard?”
“I’m not having a family reunion right now.”
Marla shrugged. “Would you prefer I just kill him quickly?”
“No,” Ben and Lara said in unison, Ben’s statement coming out more of a mumble.
“How is the place? Still a prison?”
“You should see for yourself.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. Look, Lara, I’ll make you a deal. I’m getting tired of Kerrigan Falls. It’s like our circus: You don’t want to stay in one place too long, people begin to notice things. I made the mistake of letting revenge go to my head; I know that now. Just turn around and go back out through that gate where you came from. I promise you won’t see me again. It’s a onetime deal and it’s a good one. You two are kidding yourselves if you think this body-snatching routine is going to work. The two of you—even entwined—are not as powerful as I am, especially not so soon after killing.” She paused, thinking about what she’d said. “Sorry, Lara.”
That comment stung. Lara flinched. “Seems like you have a history of killing men who don’t love you.”
Marla smiled. “I’ll admit, I was confounded at first that Father had chosen you. Then I got wind that he was getting a lot of pressure from the other daemons to get me back in the fold, so he needed the perfect little soldier to wrangle me like a wild horse. I’ve caused a bit of a scandal. The other daemons think we cambions need to stay hidden in the shadows, but that was never my way—nor Father’s really, given that he created a giant, otherworldly hippodrome to put us in,” said Marla. “So what’s it going to be, Lara?”
“You killed Todd,” said Lara. “I don’t give a shit about your daddy issues. Todd, Peter, Dez, and Émile—none of those men deserved to die.”
“Don’t talk about Émile Giroux,” said Marla. “You know nothing about him. He was my love. Mine. You had everything, Cecile. Do you remember us before Father split us? Have you gotten your memories back now that you’re dead?”
Cecile was silent.
“Let me fill in some gaps, sister. Cambions like us didn’t live. Madame Plutard was such a kind woman and she loved our mother so much. After Mother died, she agreed to give up her life and care for us as our nanny. She had a wheelchair fashioned for the both of us. Each day, she’d take us around the circus in that chair until we were ten years old. Do you remember that?”
Cecile—as Lara—shook her head.
“We’d try to take steps, but we had three legs and neither of us controlled the middle one. I figured out how to put weight on it so we could move with one of us stepping at a time with our good leg and then leveraging our middle leg like a crutch. After we’d practiced it for weeks, I made the mistake of thinking that was something great—that we could finally walk. Madame Plutard was so proud of us.
“Well, Father arrived at the circus. In
