Page 110 of Feral Possession

“Now, now,” Helen crooned. “Yes, I may have been dead for a teensy bit. Until this necromancer summoned me from the great beyond.” She flopped her arm in Dove’s direction, the motion unnatural. “The little fool believed she could gain my cooperation. Offered to put me back in my body if I cleared Marcus’s name. The second she did so, I took her captive, and I brought her along to watch how badly her plan backfired. Now I stand before you, eager to ensure justice is served and the guilty punished.” She leveled her shaded gaze on the magister, dark glasses obscuring her expression.

“But that’s impossible, Helen’s soul…” Tiberius pulled at his collar, sweat glistening on his brow.

“What was that, magister?” Helen cupped a hand to her ear. “Something you wanted to share with the rest of the class?”

“Shoot them,” Tiberius shouted at the guards. “Shoot them both.”

“No!” Marcus slammed his fists into the magical barrier. Shock waves of pain rippled up his arms.

Kaius shouted as well, “Belay that order. There are enough explosives strapped to the girl, she’ll likely take all of us with her.”

Dove rocked on her knees, her prayers growing louder, more frantic. Purple light shone between her clenched fingers. The pulsing glow similar to the stone in the amulet she’d used during his failed exorcise.

Tiberius clutched his chest and stumbled. “You depraved charlatan,” he snarled at Dove’s bent head. “The gods spit on your race. You’re a discredit to us all. You won’t get away with this.”

“Hold on,” said a voice at the side of the room. “Are those lemon-lime sports drinks strapped to her?”

“No. Nope. No sir, they are not. They are special containment units with highly explosive chemicals inside.” Helen danced an awkward jig in front of Dove, waving the detonator in the air. “Eyes on me, folks. Second I take my finger off—”

Before anyone could stop him, Tiberius backhanded Helen. She collapsed like a tower of cards. The detonator skipped across the marble. Screams rang out. Several people dove for the device. Hands fumbled for the trigger.

In the chaos, Tiberius lunged. Grabbed Dove’s shoulders. Wrenched her off the floor. “Enough of this charade,” he snarled into her upturned face.

Dove glared back at him, determination in her glowing eyes. “I agree.” She released the amulet she wore around her neck. Slammed her palms on either side of Tiberius’s face, grasping his head. Her silver mane swirled off her shoulders in a nonexistent breeze. In a deep, otherworldly voice, she commanded, “Demon, come forth.”

Tiberius spasmed in her grasp. His muscles seized as though electrocuted. Dove sank her nails into his skull. Blood trickled down his temples. She bared her teeth. “Show yourself, you deceitful jerk-face. Show them who you really are.”

“Dove!” Certain he witnessed her last moments on earth, Marcus slammed himself into the magical forcefield. Pain shattered his bones. He blinked, clearing his vision in time to see Tiberius’s hands drop from her shoulders.

Under Dove’s thrall, the magister threw out his arms and roared. Smokey tendrils of ink rose from beneath his collar. His face darkened, turning a ruddy shade of red. Chiseled shadows appeared around his glowing crimson eyes.

“What’s this?” Kaius peered over the table he’d ducked behind. “Did she detonate the explosives?”

“Kaius,” Marcus bellowed, pounding his fists against the barrier. “Release me. Now. Before it’s too late.”

Dove’s grip weakened, her body sagging. She was draining herself.

“Dove. Let go,” Marcus yelled. “You have to let go.”

“Not quitting,” Dove grunted. “All. Most. There!” She tumbled back, collapsing in a boneless heap.

“The detonator was a fake.” One of the guards stood up with the phony device in his hand.

Wait. Marcus squinted his eyes. Was that the remote to his entertainment center?

“What’s wrong with Magister Steele?” asked the man next to him.

Good question. Since Dove appeared, his trial had become a three-ring circus straight from hell.

Tiberius was hunched over, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. The crowd quieted. All heads turned in his direction. Silence descended.

The second guard approached him, manner hesitant, hand outstretched. “Sir, are you okay?”

Tiberius’s back heaved, his muscles flexing. Sick, keening sounds emerged from his chest.

“Sir?” The man grasped his shoulder.

In a shocking burst of speed, Tiberius spun and seized the guard by the throat. Terror registered in the man’s gaping expression as he stared into Tiberius’s distorted face. Blue vapor escaped from his lips, sucked into the magister’s mouth. Tiberius’s form expanded, seeming to grow stronger. Fabric tore across his back.

---