Page 53 of Feral Possession

“Perhaps I’ll walk with you a bit,” Marcus said tightly, and Carina was quick to tuck her arm into his elbow.

“Catch you later, alligator,” Dove said to their backs. Carina said something to Marcus, batting her lashes. Surely, Marcus wouldn’t take Carina up on her offer. Reuniting the former lovers wasn’t Dove’s best idea. Not that it was any of her business, since Steele wasn’t really hers. She ignored the pang in her chest, scurrying down the hall after the ghost. Just as he raised his hand to the pin pad, she drew up behind him.

After studying the pattern he punched in, she repeated it over and over in her head before the ghostly guard vanished into the door. She bit her lip and eyed the keypad. Her memory was crap. What if she forgot the number before Steele returned? With the hallway empty, this was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Dang it. She wasn’t equipped for espionage. What if she did it wrong and an alarm went off?

Time to channel your inner Bond Girl, Dove. This isn’t the time to freeze. Before she could chicken out, she strode up to the keypad and punched in the number.

The panel glowed green and a soft click came from the lock. Her heart zipped. It worked! She glanced both ways, twisted the knob, and darted into the room.

It was a small space, maybe twelve by twelve. The wall in front of her was full of monitors. Images of the resort were on display. Fortunately, she didn’t spot an image of the security door. Thank goodness the console was unmanned.

On a shelf were dozens of thick binders, dates on the spine. Very old-school for the digital age. Then again, everything in Xavier’s resort had an ancient quality. Lucky for them, his security was the same.

She didn’t dare take the whole binder. Where would she hide it? Once she found the correct month, she grabbed several discs and tucked them into the front of her tank top. Just as she placed the binder back on the shelf, her glyph lit up, static sparking down her spine.

“You don’t belong here,” snarled a hair-raising voice.

“Sorry?” She spun and sucked in a breath. Before her was the security spirit. His ghostly image was brighter now, less transparent. He stared right at her.

“Hold up. You can see me?” Spirits without an attachment to loved ones tended to ignore the living. Not this guy. Apparently, he took his job seriously, even in the afterlife.

“You don’t belong here,” he repeated, taking a menacing step toward her.

Oh great, somehow, she’d broken his loop. “Um.” She glanced around her. “Silly me. I thought this was the bathroom. I’ll just be going.”

The desk chair whipped across the room, blocking her path to the door. Crap. Looked as though her friendly neighborhood Casper was level ten poltergeist. Worst of the worst. That meant it could do some damage.

She sidled behind the chair, her back to the monitors. “Hold on now, mister. Believe me when I tell you that you don’t want to cross me. I’m an uber-powerful necromancer and I will blast you into oblivion so fast it will make your chakras spin.” Except the well at her center was still on empty. Whatever Shadow-Steele had done to her while feeding last night had not only drained her physical body but her celestial.

“Thief,” the guard snarled, winging out his arm as though to backhand her.

Out of instinct, Dove threw up her arms to protect her head. Energy buffeted her cheek, and she cried out. To her relief, the strike glanced off her shoulder, merely throwing her off balance. That relief was short-lived. Monitors exploded. Glass cracked, and a shower of sparks rained down on her.

She dove to the side, bracing her back against the shelves. “You maniac! What are you, crazy?” No way this blockhead was human before he’d died. He must have been someone powerful in his previous life.

She had to get out of there, except the spirit stood between her and the doorway. Maybe she should go through him? Blech. Before she could commit to the plan, he slung out his arm. Energy blasted her in a wave. She ducked, avoiding the blow, and it struck the binders behind her. Metal creaked. The heavy shelf wobbled. Tipped. Oh, this was going to hurt. Possibly break a few bones. Goodbye, cruel world!

An explosion sounded. The door slammed inward on its hinges. Marcus plowed through the spirit’s body, grabbed her arm, and yanked her into his embrace. The metal shelf tumbled, striking the console, dumping thick binders everywhere.

Dove clung to Marcus’s waist, leaning into his strength.

“You don’t belong here,” snarled the spirit, standing in the middle of the carnage, binders jutting from his transparent form.

Marcus drew back his lips, baring fangs. His damaged flesh glowed beneath the fabric of his shirt. Red eyes blazed from the depths of his hood. Dark energy tingled her glyph, sending a fresh jolt of panic down her spine.

“She is mine,” Marcus snarled in a demonic voice.

Dove’s heart climbed up her throat. “Shadow?” Had he somehow surfaced with Steele awake? Oh, this was bad. Her savior glared directly at the spirit. He could see it? Whereas Marcus didn’t have the ability, it seemed his demon could see the ghost’s essence.

Shadows oozed down the walls like spilled blood. Slid along the floor, spiraling around the spirit’s feet.

“Don’t belong.” The ghost sank into the menacing cesspool. Sludgy ooze climbed up its legs. The guard’s image flickered. Perhaps sensing his end, he slashed out its arm, striking out.

Dove winced and tucked her face into Shadow-Steele’s chest. When nothing happened, she lifted her head.

Marcus stood with his hand thrust out, an eerie mist siphoning into his palm. The guard’s mystical form appeared to dissolve, his body turning into a dark blue vapor.

The apparition stared at its vanishing hands. “No,” it snarled.

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