Part 18 (1/2)

”Juan, how could you do this to me? To Beth? Your girls are going to grow up knowing their father is a killer.”

Juan's face wavered in front of her, as if a million bugs moved just beneath the skin. His brown eyes glowed red. Her stomach rolled and she nearly choked on her own bile.

”Shut up, human!”

A burning filled her from the inside out and her vision faded.

”Don't!” Lisa screamed. ”We need her alive!”

Juan's fierce anger turned on Lisa. Her body flew against the wall, her feet inches from the ground, her mouth open to scream but no sound escaped.

Then she collapsed, gasping for breath.

”Get the knife, stupid girl,” Corinne told her daughter. ”Don't make him punish you.”

”Yes, Mother,” Lisa whispered hoa.r.s.ely.

”What are you doing?” Skye whispered.

”Both Lisa and I are willing to give up our bodies. Jeremiah would have been better because of his experience in these matters. He's been a willing host before. But then Rafe Cooper somehow got out of his room before the ritual was complete. We lost Jeremiah.”

”It was your fault,” Juan said. ”You didn't cast a strong enough s.h.i.+eld. I told you Raphael was a threat!”

”I did exactly what Jeremiah told me,” Corinne snapped.

”Then it's a good thing he's dead if he's that stupid.”

Whatever internal battle waged within Juan, the other presence-the demon-appeared to have control again.

”Why didn't you just kill him?” Skye asked, her breath coming in short gasps. The room grew hotter and she began to sweat. She felt like she was breathing in a thick, hot mist.

Corinne frowned. ”We planned on it, but he didn't eat the stew. He's a d.a.m.n vegetarian! And he was already suspicious.”

”You could have put him in the chapel,” Skye said. ”It was a ma.s.sacre.”

”He would have stopped the ritual.”

”What I don't-” Skye took a deep breath, but it grew more difficult. She struggled to get free, but she'd been caged in an unbreakable, invisible bubble. ”Why did you poison them for so long?”

”We had to put them in the right mind-set. Bring back their past. Show them their culpability, their guilt, their pain,” Corinne said. ”They were weakening. And then, when the time was right, we would have increased the dose and the result would have been the same, except that we'd have a greater reward. But that intruder nearly ruined everything. He had me removed from the mission.” She smiled and glanced at Lisa. ”I almost had him, too.”

Skye closed her eyes. She was tired. Very tired. Her limbs felt heavy, and she found herself lying down in the circle.

Juan's chanting continued.

She had a million more questions, but couldn't find her voice. With great effort, Skye reached into her s.h.i.+rt and pulled out the cross Anthony had given her. She recited the Latin phrase he had had her repeat the night before, her words a mere whisper.

Juan screamed in pain and every candle flared simultaneously.

Corinne grabbed the cross and jerked off the chain, breaking it and drawing blood across Skye's neck. She threw the cross into the fireplace and chanted something that sounded like no language Skye had ever heard. Corinne's hand was in flames and Lisa wrapped it with a blanket.

The fire behind her roared to life. Juan leaned over her p.r.o.ne body, looked down at her, his face full of broken blood vessels.

”I will not be defeated!”

His eyes glowed and his mouth opened in a deep roar that vibrated every cell in Skye's body.

Juan began to chant again, looking into her eyes. She couldn't draw her gaze away, as if someone held her lids open. Corinne and Lisa joined in the ritual. The heat in the room increased until sweat poured from Skye's body. The foul stench that had permeated Skye's own house that morning seeped in, filling her nostrils, her lungs, until she wasn't breathing air, but thick sulfur. Her eyes drooped; she was on the verge of pa.s.sing out.

On the ceiling, over Juan's shoulder, she saw flames. Bright, hot, red. She saw eyes, everywhere eyes, glowing, howling, laughing, shrieking. She tried to scream but no sound came out.

Her father stood in front of her, consumed by fire.

You forgot me. You let me die.

No, Daddy! I loved you.

He ignited in front of her, his flesh turning black, falling off his bones, raining down on her.

She screamed.

Her mother-her beautiful, elegant mother-floated in the flames. Her face twisted, her cheeks hollow. Skye watched the fire dance in the large hole in her chest.

”Mom,” Skye muttered, her voice distant, as if she was hearing a poor recording of herself.

I left because of you. I never wanted a child. You should never have been born.

She was so alone. Dead to the world. No one to love. No one who loved her.

They were going to burn her alive. The whole cottage was on fire and she was going to die . . .

. . . then she saw the knife in Lisa's hand.

Anthony. Help me.

Ianax had one common trait with every demon Anthony had encountered.

Arrogance.

Ianax couldn't sense him because in his arrogance he'd believed he'd taken care of Anthony by erecting a protective circle and making Skye doubt him. Ianax also had to battle to keep Juan's soul imprisoned, which consumed a huge amount of satanic energy.

Anthony knew exactly what the three were doing. They were destroying Skye from the inside out in preparation for the purging of Juan's soul to the netherworld. Juan was an unwilling host and fighting the possession, so they needed to weaken Skye so she wouldn't fight Ianax when he claimed her. If that failed, they would sacrifice her.

Skye had been worn down to raw nerves, her grief and guilt and loneliness being used to destroy her.

Anthony. Help me.

Anthony heard Skye's plea, didn't know if she had screamed it or thought it. He peered from his hiding place into the living room where the demonic ritual was unfolding. Skye writhed on the floor as if in pain, but nothing was touching her. Skye's eyes were wild, unseeing-at least not seeing what was in front of her. Something was scaring her, something that made her believe. Believe in him. And that was all Anthony needed.