Page 17 of Broken Moon

“Okay,” I said, finally,relieved to hear my own voice, “tell me what happened.”

He told me, his voice matter offact and his face blank, but I could see the emotion hiding beneath thesurface. Four people had died there, hacked to pieces by two butcher knives. Themurder weapons had been left stuck inside two of the victims. He didn’t go intodetail, but he didn’t have to. I had a very vivid imagination.

“It was quick,” he said.“Neighbors heard screams, and the ones who called it in all said they calledwithin five minutes. Less than ten minutes after the first call, we were on thescene. They were already dead and the killer was gone.” He looked at me then,and his eyes were full of rage. “Tell me what did this, Kaitlyn.”

“What made you call me?” Iasked. “Why did you think a human didn’t do this?”

He flicked his light on andplayed it over the ceiling. When I looked up, I gasped. The entire ceiling ofthe little room was painted with blood. Flowers, moons, what looked likehellfire, and smack dab in the middle of it, the single and somehow sinisterwordwolf.

“One of the victims exploded,”Rick said. His voice was soft and gentle. Too gentle. “That’s how I knew.”

I swallowed hard andconcentrated for a few seconds on my unending pain. It centered me, calmed me,gave me focus.

Then I pulled my bag around andreached inside for a vial of holy water. Holding the silver blade in one handand the holy water in the other, I opened myself to the evil, lingering spirit,and I began to hunt.

He was here. I felt him like apiece of ice lodged in my throat, and the more open I became, the larger theice shard grew. It spread through my body and left ice crystals in its wake, overwhelmingmy usual wolf’s pain. The wolf’s pain was red and hot. The pain caused by the malevolentspirit was frigid, and when it finally reached my head, I wanted to run fromthe apartment to get some relief. It was like a giant brain freeze, and Ithought it might push my eyeballs from my skull.

I would like to go just one daywithout pain. But before I could fall too deeply into self-pity, I told myselfsternly to suck it up. Fight like a warrior. At least I was alive to feel pain,unlike the four who’d been hacked to death just hours earlier.

And then the spirit I washunting flew screaming from the darkness, the fires of hell surrounding him,and I went immediately from icy to on fire. I didn’t scream or panic—the panicwould come after the crisis. I realized immediately what—and who—the spiritwas, and that knowledge sat like a bloated, grinning toad in the back of mymind, waiting for me to have time to take it out and look it over.

Right now, I could only fight.

My wolf helped me. Her rage andmadness took over my body, and I let her. Not that I could have stopped her,not then. Every whirl, lunge, leap, and dodge had her behind it. She was behindevery thrust of the blade, each dash of holy water.

She—and I—were fighting for ourlives. Then I unlocked my jaw and I did scream, but only to warn the detective.“Rick,” I yelled, “getout!”

I heard the door slam as heimmediately obeyed me. I’d been keeping the spirit occupied, but I knewsuddenly what had happened in that room.

The supernatural being hadpossessed one of the victims. He’d forced him to kill his family, and then turnthe blade on himself. Not unheard of.

Why the pain, little girl?

“No,” I cried, finally.

The spirit in the apartment wasthe demon boss whose blade I now held.

I’d believed I’d killed him,but I had not killed him, and I hadn’t sent him back to his world. I’d simplyfreed the enraged, malevolent demon to take out his vile inclinations on thehumans of my world.

And I had no earthly idea how Iwas going to stop him.

I wasn’t sure I could evensurvive him.

Chapter Eight

I shoved the guilt and horroraway. It served no purpose. I hadn’t set the demon upon the world deliberately,and I would find a way to truly kill him or to send him back to hell. Rightnow, I just had to survive. I had to keep him from climbing into my body andtaking control of me.

The holy water made him scream,though it didn’t stop him—nor did the blade that had once belonged to him. Ihad salt in my bag, but not enough, and no time to rummage for it, anyway. Thebox of salt sitting on the countertop would do great things, if only I couldget to it. The demon had no blade, but he was on the offensive. He didn’t wantto kill me. Without a body, hecouldn’tkill me. He wanted to possessme. He wanted a body, and because I’d been the one to destroy his, he had sethis sights on mine.

I’d gotten anti-possessiontattoos long ago, but I wasn’t sure they’d keep him out of me. I wasn’t sure atall.

And if I couldn’t kill him, Ineeded to trap him until I could figure it out.

Without his body, he was like abright, sharp light, blue around the edges, then red, and finally, in the verycenter, a deep, pulsing greenish black. The image of his face was floating inall the light with his long red eyes, his sharp teeth, his hooked nose. Evil.It was the face of evil.

I’d defeated him once, and I’ddo it again. There was no room for doubt.

The odor coming from him wasgrowing stronger by the second, and it was nearly enough to kick my ass all onits own. He smelled like sulfur, only worse. I had nothing to compare it to,but sulfur was as close as I could come.