Page 44 of Undo Me

Catherine Toussaint.

“This won’t be a replay, Antoine. You succeeded in shadow, you lied and betrayed because we were blind to what you’d become. But I see you for what you are now. A small, weak parasite, hiding inside a body that doesn’t belong to you.”

Antoine’s rage burned hot in his eyes. “Can you also see the knife I’m about to use to slice open this pale imitation’s throat? Can everyone see that I’m the one in control? As long as I have her, you’re the weak ones. Powerless.”

At first, BD could have sworn Bethany was blinking back tears. But no. The crazy woman actually winked at him. Her hands, which had been clinging weakly to the arm holding the weapon, tightened and pushed out quick enough to surprise him. She dropped down to her knees, jamming her elbow hard between his legs before rolling out of the way.

It was the height of foolishness. It was the bravest thing he’d ever seen. And it was a chance.

Good girl.

BD rushed the possessed man who was bent over in pain, knocking the knife out of his hand before punching him in the jaw.

Unfortunately, it didn’t come close to putting him down.

“You’re right. This is different.” Antoine wiped the blood from his lip, circling BD warily as he watched Bethany crawl on the ground toward the knife. “Isabel is more of a fighter now, Marcel. I wasn’t expecting that. The last time it was almost a relief to kill her, though I would have preferred her father’s money first. All she did was whimper and cry, calling for you to come for her. To forgive her. To save her.”

Antoine met her gaze and she froze beside the knife. “He never did, by the way. Or at least, not until it was too late to matter.”

Shame ate at BD for failing her. “You are a bastard.”

“No.” Antoine growled, losing his semblance of calm. “No, you were the bastard, Marcel. The shameful stench our father never managed to wash off the bottom of his shoe. You ruined everything. Took everything. Your mother told Father about my…proclivities. You stole Isabel from me. You should have taken the money I offered and agreed to let me have her. You wouldn’t have had to die if you’d left without her. And I would have been free of you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, BD saw Ben drag Bethany to safety. He owed the man. No matter what happened to him now, this time she lived.

“You never understood, did you, Ant? Without her, there was no life for me.”

The smaller man dove on him with nearly inhuman strength, throwing him against the corner of the small mausoleum that held the bodies of Isabel and her brother.

Agony sent him crumpling to the ground. He pulled himself up to his knees in time for Antoine to kick him in his stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

He was too weak like this.

“I see you, spirit.” Michelle’s voice rang out strong and clear in the night. “I am bon ange, a guardian for souls, and I see you, and all those who dwell here.”

Antoine’s eyes widened warily. “Bon ange? But you were just a little nothing. A weak-willed girl, craving security.”

“She’s changed.” BD forced himself to his feet, grunting with the effort it took. “And she’s more than a match for what’s left of you. You look scared, little Ant. You should be.”

Michelle moved in closer, Ben’s hand in hers as they both stared Antoine down. “The spirits that dwell here don’t appreciate you disrupting their home with your filth and darkness,” she said, looking magnificent as she embraced her power.

“I see you.” Her voice swelled, echoing off the marble tombs. “Leave that body, or they’ll make sure you do, and you won’t like what they do with you, I promise.”

“You can’t touch me.” But Antoine was backing away, stumbling, his face chalk white.

She muttered something that BD couldn’t quite make out through the pain-induced roar of blood pounding in his ears. But he could see Antoine’s reaction.

The man fell to the ground, rolling along the narrow walk and bouncing off the tombs as though he were being beaten. Had she truly sent the other spirits after him?

Antoine held up his hands and screamed. “No. You can’t touch me. No one can touch me.” His body arched unnaturally before collapsing in a heap under the crumbling statue of a cherub.

For a moment, no one moved.

“He’s gone,” Michelle finally said in a voice that sounded hollow. “They tore him out of that poor man.”

“Yeah,” Ben agreed, sounding shaken as he tugged her closer. “From what I saw, I doubt we’ll have to worry about him again.”

It was over. He dropped to the ground again. It was finally over. She lived.

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