The Isis Collar

I’ll do what I can to pull the words out of your head, so you don’t have to send them. It’ll give me a migraine in the morning, but at least we might have a morning if I do. Can you function at all? He won’t be gone long.



The way she said that “he.” Ouch. They’d been lovers and it had ended badly. I could just sense it. So there was no chance she was going to survive this. I had even less chance. Could I function? I sure as hell was going to function, whether or not I could. I tried moving. I was still a little uncoordinated, but I managed to get my arms and legs to work enough to start dragging myself across the floor. Movement was helping. The energy and will I’d lost were coming back more rapidly now and I knew that in a few minutes I’d actually be more like myself again.



Simone moved with a combination of rolling and an awkward caterpillar crawl until she was lying next to me, her back turned so that I had a clear view of her bound wrists. He’d done a fine job of it. I really needed a knife to cut her loose. I could tear the tape if I could get both hands in position, but the force it would take would probably snap her wrist.



I worked myself awkwardly into a sitting position and tried to work at the tape with my fingers, back-to-back. But it was too tight. Lack of circulation was making her arms swell up, the sticky fabric digging painfully into the skin.



Use your teeth.



I shook my head. Bad idea. The way your skin’s swollen up I’d be bound to nick your skin. I didn’t want to think about what would happen next. Yes, I was full. But the same adrenaline that was bringing me back to my senses was bringing the inner beast to the forefront. Tasting blood would be really, really bad.



Well, we have to do something! He wants to turn you completely. He’s not just a mage. He has necromantic magic as well. I saw it all in his head just now. He wants to use you to get close to Glinda, then kill her. Then he’ll take the collar for himself.



Wow. That was unexpected and yet totally logical. How does he even know about the collar? It was supposed to be a myth.



She let out a harsh breath through her nose, obviously still annoyed with herself she was in this predicament. He had it years ago, but George Miller stole it from him. Or so he claimed. Obviously, I’m starting to doubt anything he told me. But I do know when he saw the memory spells affecting you, he knew the collar was being used. It wasn’t rocket science to figure out by whom. Who else would it be but a pretender to the throne? After all, Miller had power. John Creede has power. He would just keep it locked away the way Miller had. So it had to be someone new to the game. He did a tracking spell and there she was.



So maybe the way to Glinda was through the doctor. Backward, but it could work. Does he know where she is?



I don’t think so. But he doesn’t need to. She wants you dead. He believes she’ll come to him.



How did he know she wants me dead?



I don’t know. But he does. Are you making any progress?



I’d been pulling at the edge of the tape with my fingernails and had managed to get an end loose, but he’d gone around her wrists enough times that it wasn’t exactly progress. We needed a better plan. As I pulled at the tape binding her I looked around the room.



Just use your damned teeth!



No. Damn it, you just listen with your mind and let me know if you can sense him coming.…



Her head turned almost backward. Her amber eyes were flashing with frustration and fear. Thankfully, my nose wasn’t working worth a damn, so it didn’t make my stomach rumble. I can’t! The circle blocks my talent. Otherwise I would just have used my ability to call for help. He did it specifically to guarantee you wouldn’t be able to use your siren talents on him. He’s heard rumors you killed someone that way. She paused and held very still. Did you?



I worked really hard to hide that answer in the depths of my mind. Apparently it worked, because eventually I felt the tickle of her mind back away from mine. Instead, I got back on point. Could you at least use your ears? I have an idea.



Once before, I’d been able to use my affinity with gulls to save my butt from a lesser demon. But as I tried to direct my thoughts at them … I hit the smooth, solid wall of the casting circle.



Crap.



Fine. Help would have to come from outside. At least he hadn’t put tape over my mouth. I whispered quietly at first and tried to send out panic from my pores.



It wasn’t hard.



“Ivy? Can you hear me?” I called my sister’s ghost, hoping she’d come, worried she wouldn’t. She’d wanted to stay in her borrowed body as much as Mom had wanted her there. She could be angry with me.



She didn’t come.



But someone did.



The temperature in the room dropped at least ten degrees in as many seconds.



What’s happening? Simone’s mental voice wasn’t panicked, but she was definitely nervous. Couldn’t say as I blamed her.



It’s a ghost, or spirit of some sort. I’m not really sure what it is.



And this helps us how?



“Oh, ye of little faith.” The voice was amused, male, and audible. “What did you have in mind, Celia?”



“If you throw one of the chickens over the edge of the circle it should break the casting.”



“And why would I want to do that?”



“Please?”



A pause and then an almost eager confidence that made my stomach roil. “You’ll owe me a favor.”



Simone was nodding vigorously. I could hear her mental voice ordering me to do it. Do it now! Do it!



I swallowed hard and tried not to overthink this. I have control issues and always try to make decisions that won’t wind up coming back to bite me. “Tell me who you are first.”



“You know who I am.”



Did I? I thought it was Jones. Maybe. Or possibly a demon. I didn’t buy the theory of the angelic. I could never be that lucky. “No. Actually, I really don’t.”



A low chuckle raised the hair on my arms and the back of my neck. It was distinctly male but not at all familiar. Damn it. Or perhaps … damn me. “Then you’ll have to take your chances. Do we have a deal? Yes, or no?”



It was hard to tell over the sound of the waterfall, but I thought I heard hurried footsteps coming down the hall. We were running out of time. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, resigning myself to whatever future would get me out of the present. “Do it.”



Things happened fast after that. There was an indignant squawk and a big red hen came flying across the room at me. It skidded the last few feet on the ground, trying desperately to keep its balance on the stone floor with clipped claws. But it worked. Wings flailing, it broke the chalk circle with a flare of power that lashed against my senses like a bullwhip. I leapt to my feet as Jean-Baptiste burst into the room. I dived out of the circle at the same instant he released his will to power it back up. Magic seared whatever hair was still inside the circle when it rose, assaulting my nose with the sizzling strands. Not exactly how I’d planned to get a haircut.



He chased me around the room with careful blasts of power that erupted from the mouth of the monkey on the end of his casting staff. I managed to stay just one step ahead of him. There was nowhere to go unless I abandoned Simone, and I wasn’t willing to do that. At least by chasing me, Jean-Baptiste was wearing himself down, and not sacrificing the woman in the circle.



I was afraid my freedom would be short-lived, but the entity went above and beyond the call. I felt my arms burst apart from each other, the tape separating, dissolving like a spiderweb before flame.



I might be the vampire, but it was Jean-Baptiste who hissed in fury. I saw a flare of colors as he threw a spell at the entity, banishing it in a flash of sulfur-scented smoke.



But somehow I didn’t think he’d actually performed a banishing. I got the feeling the entity simply decided to leave. Maybe it would be back, maybe not.



I had no doubt we’d meet again in the future. I tried not to think about that.



With practiced ease Jean-Baptiste grabbed one of the ceremonial knives used to kill sacrifices and began circling toward me. His movements were smooth, coordinated, but not skilled. He wasn’t used to actual infighting and he wasn’t a professional.



I am.



I’d rather he have the dagger than the casting staff, so I actually rushed him, surprising him so much he didn’t have time to stab at me. I grabbed the monkey staff before he could blast me again, and turned quickly away. He used that the second I was turned to move in, as I’d known he would. I twisted, using my leg to scythe his legs from under him. And in a single, smooth motion I swung the club with all my strength, burying the wood deep in his temple.



I felt the impact in my shoulder as the wood connected with the thickness of his skull and then the abrupt give and soft finish as it shattered—spraying me with blood and other, thicker things.



Dr. Jean-Baptiste fell to the floor and didn’t move again.



24



There was a body on the ground, a victim to console, and a villain to catch.



Such is my life.



The cops don’t like me for this very reason. So I didn’t call them. I called the Feds. Rizzoli picked up on the first ring. I told him what had happened. He said he was already on his way. Why wasn’t I surprised?



It had been one of the longest and hardest days of my life. Even with Rizzoli keeping most of the heat off, I knew there would be statements to give, questions to answer, and favors to repay. At that moment, I wasn’t sure which I was dreading more.



I realized when I hung up I hadn’t mentioned the entity, and I wasn’t entirely sure why. Maybe dwelling on a nebulous future would be too taxing. At the very least, it would be distracting, and I’d need to be at my best.



It took some talking to convince Simone to wait for the Feds. I had to guarantee she wouldn’t see any jail time for her part in getting to this point. I didn’t want her to go, so I made the promise. But it wasn’t my promise to make, so all I could do was hope she hadn’t done anything irretrievable in Rizzoli’s eyes.



While I waited for the cavalry to come and deal with Jean-Baptiste I did the two most sensible things I could think of: washed the blood off my face and hands, and curled up to sleep on the first examining table I found.