Page 90 of Feral Possession

Marcus pursed his lips. With Celeste at the helm, half the underworld would know about the fight in a matter of hours. No doubt, she’d tell every shop owner and customer she knew. Perhaps Dove inviting her over wasn’t a complete waste of time.

Dove snagged the woman’s hand. “Let’s head to my room. These two are harshing my vibe.”

Celeste winked at Bishop, blowing him a kiss, then followed in Dove’s wake.

Bishop glared at their departing backs. “They’re up to something.”

Marcus followed their progress down the hallway. “Without a doubt.”

Dove retrieved the book she’d borrowed from Victor while Celeste explored her bedroom.

“Sweet digs,” Celeste said, adding an appreciative whistle. “Could use a bit of color, though.”

“Tell me about it,” Dove huffed. “Not that I’ve been here enough to do any decorating.” If she stayed, something would need to be done to spruce up the place. Dove stilled, hands frozen on the thick leather book. If she stayed? What would that look like? Sure, Dove Land was great, but she and Marcus living together would certainly change things. Would they share the same room? Same bed? Her lady bits warmed, liking that idea very much. Still, she had too much on her mind to delve too deeply into the particulars.

“Here it is.” Dove thunked the heavy book down on the small breakfast table.

“Holy cow. This thing is ancient.” Celeste stroked the cover, her touch reverent. “Where did you say you got this?”

“An acquaintance loaned it to me.” If Celeste discovered she’d stolen it from the clan leader, she may refuse to help. “While I can’t read the language, it looks to me like it’s some kind of encyclopedia of rare artifacts.” She’d seen the collection on the shelves in his office. Perhaps that was why Victor was reading it, and his interest had nothing to do with demon spirits. Regardless, Victor had other things on his plate at the moment. Marcus, the least of his concerns.

“Which page did you need translated?”

Dove held her breath and flipped to the spot she’d bookmarked. “This one.” She pointed to the page with the strange emblem. “I was thinking I might work the design into my next art project, but figured I better find out more about it first.” Gah. She hated lying to her friend, but what other choice did she have?

Celeste cast her a dubious look and shrugged. “I’ll try, but some of this may not translate to English. Do you have something to write on?”

“Sure.” Dove retrieved her sketchbook and pencil.

Two hours later, Celeste rose from her chair, stretching her arms over her head and groaning. “I hate book work. I’m much better at compounds and casting. Though even with that, I lean more toward wrinkle cream and love potions these days.”

“Is it done?” Dove gasped, sitting upright in bed. Hovering over Celeste’s shoulder had been a no-no and earned her pinched boob.

“I think so.”

Dove sidled next to her, and Celeste wrapped her in a tight embrace. “I’m so glad you called me before duplicating this in a piece of artwork. By the goddess, that would have been a disaster.”

“Really?” Dove grunted, short on air.

Celeste released her, slid the translation across the table, and jabbed her finger at the emblem on the page. “This is a drawing of a Keres stone. Conjurors use them to capture demon spirits called shades and channel them into hosts. Though I imagine it works on other spirits as well.”

Dove swallowed the lump in her throat. “What does it say about the shade?”

“That they’re incorporeal creatures, which is probably why there isn’t a picture of them here. It claims they’re bound to a higher power. Believed only to exist in the prison realm in the city of Carcerem. Their sole purpose is to channel energy to their master.”

“Sounds like they’re solar panels for their evil overlords.” She nibbled her bottom lip. “And this energy, where does it come from?”

“When they can’t generate enough on their own, they take it from other creatures, absorbing their life force.”

Dove’s insides withered. It was her worst nightmare made real. “Shades are soul ravagers.”

Celeste shivered. “Of the worst kind. They’re said to have gifts to aid them in this task. Powers over shadows and light. Sounds to me like they’re the monster in your closet. Really creepy stuff.”

There was no crime worse than the destruction of souls. “That’s awful,” Dove choked. Surely, this had to be a mistake. No way Shadow was a reaper. Even if he was, he’d given no indication he served some soul-slurping master.

“My suggestion, find another muse for your next project.”

“I will,” Dove muttered, her mind racing while her heart sank in her chest. “Is there any way to stop them? To prevent them from feeding on souls?”

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