Page 85 of Feral Possession

Dove stifled the shiver of disgust running through her. “Yep,” she choked out.

“We’ll take it from here, Doctor Randall,” Marcus said. “Thank you for your assistance.”

Taking his cue, Doc bobbed his head. “I’ll be down the hall if you need anything.”

“Thank you.” Dove hefted her purse onto the metal table. As soon as the door whooshed closed on the doctor’s back, she spun in a huff, locking Marcus in her sights. “May I just say you’re assuming a lot here? The moment Victor admitted he still had Adam’s corpse, you presumed I could speak with him.”

Marcus clasped her upper arms. “You forget I’ve witnessed firsthand the depth of your power. You may downplay it for others, but I’ve seen the real you. The one you hide. Every challenge I’ve presented, you’ve taken head-on, facing unexpected odds with determination and courage. In this, I’m confident you’ll do the same.”

Her anger deflated, and her shoulders slumped. She leaned into him. Well… when he put it that way. Before he could drag her further under his spell, she stiffened, raising her chin. “Just don’t be mad at me if this doesn’t work. If Adam’s spirit has traveled too deeply into the beyond, I may not be able to pull him close enough for a little chat. Also, should I prove successful, there’s an excellent chance he won’t be cooperative.”

“Understood. Now tell me what you need.”

“Not much, fortunately.” From her bag, she withdrew an altar scarf with the zodiac wheel embroidered on it and draped it over the metal surface.

Marcus eyed her bulging bag with one brow arched. “I believe your purse has grown since we arrived.”

She unloaded the thick book she’d swiped from Victor’s desk and plunked it down. “Before you judge me, I borrowed it, not stole. I figured it could be useful.”

Marcus huffed a sigh. “I doubt he’ll miss it anytime soon.”

“That’s what I thought.” She withdrew a metal tin with a candle inside and set it in the center of the scarf. Next, she rummaged deep and grabbed a penis-shaped lighter. She winced in apology while lighting the wick. “Again, don’t judge. Mardi Gras has been good to me.”

“Quite alright.”

Finally, she found the cloth bag with her sacred stones, extracted the ones she needed, and placed them around the candle. “I’ll need a bit of faerie blood. Do you mind?” She held out her index finger to Marcus.

He arched a brow. “Just a little prick?”

She coughed a laugh. “I’ll leave that one alone.”

Once Marcus pierced her fingertip on a fang, she pressed the drop of blood to the upturned candle lid and set in on the scarf. “Get the lights, will you?”

Marcus exhaled a breath, and the buzzing florescent fixture fell silent. Pride swelled in her chest. He’d done it effortlessly.

She stood across the table from him. In the darkness, her single flame flickered. “Now take my hands and no matter what, don’t let go. We’re not conjuring someone’s dearly departed granny but a confirmed criminal. I don’t have time to set up a proper containment circle, so this will have to do.” The circle would prevent the spirit from entering her body. Allowing a spirit access to a necromancer was strictly forbidden. There was no telling the damage it could inflict if given the opportunity. “Also, be patient with me. I’m rusty and sometimes it takes a couple of tries.”

“Very well.” Marcus reached across the narrow table, taking her hands in a firm grip she found reassuring.

“Here goes nothing.” She exhaled, relaxing her shoulders and staring into the flickering flame. Static prickled along her glyph and she opened her mind’s eye, picturing the vampire she’d seen in the security video. Once the image took shape, she said in a level tone, “I summon Adam from beyond the veil. Draw near to your former vessel and commune with us.”

The temperature in the room dropped by degrees as though from a cold front. Dove shivered and exhaled a frosty breath. “It’s working.” Already, which was strange. Even on her best day, it usually took twenty minutes to pull a spirit close enough for communication.

In her periphery, she sensed a presence. “He’s here.”

She turned her head, peering into a darkened corner. There, a pale silhouette appeared. “Spirit, come forth,” she uttered the command, tapping into the well at her center.

As though she twisted a camera lens, the colorless image sharpened. Adam’s face took shape. Dark shadows became sunken eyes. “What is this?” Adam demanded. “Where am I?”

“Shit,” Marcus muttered.

Unfortunately, Adam appeared to them as he did in his final moments. His broken neck was unable to support his head, his cheek resting on his shoulder. Both his arm and leg were bloodied, the flesh ripped from exposed muscles.

Bile pushed up her throat. This was one of many reasons she avoided conjuring. Despite her nausea, a sudden realization stole her attention. She turned to Marcus. “You can see him?”

His left pupil glowed red. “I can hear him as well.”

Dove nibbled her lip. More and more, the demon’s presence seemed ever at the ready. The two entities merging, their power shared. What it meant for Marcus’s future, she didn’t know.

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