Page 87 of Feral Possession

That was useless intel. Dove rolled her head on her tightening shoulders. “Seriously, you’re killing me.” She winced. “Sorry, poor turn of phrase.”

Adam pressed his insubstantial hands on the table beside them. “Look. I wasn’t privy to the inner workings of Zion’s operation. Helen relayed my orders. It was how she kept me under her thumb. I never spoke to the guy directly, but I got the sense he was someone high in the food chain. Maybe even a member of the Council. If you’re wanting intel on Zion, that’s all I have.”

“And Helen?” Marcus prodded.

The spirit leaned in, his face drawing close to Marcus. “Helen was obsessed with you. Everything I did paled in comparison to the great Marcus Steele. When you refused to see her as anything but a business associate, that obsession turned to hate. Believe me, she was the first to suggest Zion take you out when you found the discrepancies in the casino’s books.”

Marcus didn’t react, his face an unaffected mask. “You’re going to need to give me more than that.”

“Fine.” Adam straightened, back to prowling the room. “Helen’s biggest contribution to Zion’s organization was money laundering. She did it using Steele Enterprises, fake businesses, but also high-stakes gambling. You could use that to reel her in. Create an opportunity she can’t resist. Bring her to you. With all your resources, I’m sure the great Marcus Steele will come up with a plan.”

Moments of silence passed between Marcus and the spirit. “It isn’t much, but it’s something.” Dove shrugged, interrupting their staring contest. “Time’s running out. I must release him or tether his spirit to his body.”

“Do it. He’s of no further use to me.” Marcus nodded, anger in the tight grip he had on her hands.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Darn, this was going to run her tank dry. Again. Hopefully, Marcus knew what he was doing.

“Adam, I need you to place your hands on your body.”

“Easy enough.” He glided across the room, doing as she asked.

In her mind’s eye, she pictured Adam as he’d appeared to them. Next, she pictured his corpse in its bag. Electricity surged up her spine. “We honor the spirit. We honor the vessel. What was torn asunder now becomes one.” No, it wasn’t poetic, but it got the job done.

She gripped Marcus’s hands, dark energy rolling between them, the likes of which she’d never experienced before. “Marcus.” She gasped. Power flooded her system, the feeling dark, oppressive. Not her own. Was he feeding her energy?

“Something’s happening,” Adam shouted.

Yes, it was. Eek!

Lights flickered and sparked. Wind buffeted the room, sweeping Dove’s hair off her shoulders. She envisioned the tether connecting her to Adam. Plucked it from her center, jabbed it into his corpse, and repeated her chant. “We honor the spirit. We honor the vessel. What was torn asunder, now becomes one.”

Across from her, the charred flesh beneath Marcus’s shirt collar glowed with a furious light. He gritted his teeth, face tight with pain. “What’s happening?” he grated.

“I don’t know. We need to stop.”

“No,” Adam shouted. “I’m almost there. I can feel it. Ah, by the gods, so cold.”

Marcus’s hands shook in her grip. “Hurry, Dove. I can’t hold on much longer.” Hold on to her or his demon? She didn’t intend to wait around to find out.

She sent one last blast of power in Adam’s direction, fusing the tether between body and spirit. “We honor the spirit. We honor the vessel. What was torn asunder, now becomes one.” An electric current surged down her glyph. Dove shuddered, and her grasp on Marcus slipped. Energy buffeted the space between them. She stumbled back, shoved by some unseen force, and tumbled to the ground, skirt tangling around her legs.

Her ears rang in the sudden quiet.

“Marcus?” She flipped her hair out of her eyes, searching for him under the table. The candle was out, the room pitch black.

In the unnatural silence, a terrifying thought hit her. “Adam?” A low groan had her scurrying to her feet. “Light. Light. We need some light.”

She palmed her way around the table, walked hands out until she found the wall, and fumbled for the switch. “There!” The florescent fixture flickered to life.

“Marcus? Are you hurt?” She found him crouched in a darkened corner.

Before she could go to him, an eerie moan snapped her head to the metal cabinets. Adam’s corpse sat upright in its tray.

Dove smacked her hand to her mouth. “By the fates. It’s alive!”

The zipper on the body bag slid down with a hair-raising buzz. Adam swung his legs over the side of the tray and hopped to the floor. He wobbled, then righted himself. Favoring one leg, he grabbed the top of the bag, shoved it down, and stepped out.

Nausea rolled up Dove’s throat, and she backed to the door. “I t-t-told you this was a b-b-bad idea.” Shivers racked her body.

---