Ktana tried to move forward, but Larry’s legs were curling, his arms bending, as his muscles shrank from the intense heat. Megan closed her eyes and covered her face, knowing what was coming.
“Get down!” Greyson shouted. Someone jostled Megan, pushing her down, as Larry exploded in a creaking, horrible splat like the breaking of a rotten egg.
Tera started to shout something, a spell or a command, but her voice stopped abruptly. Megan looked up and saw Ktana holding her by the throat.
More flames, white around Ktana’s head, disappearing quickly when Greyson saw they were doing no good. The metallic click of the gun being cocked followed, and a shot, but Megan had already seen how little good bullets did.
Tera’s face was turning blue. The sight galvanized Megan, seemed to galvanize all of them, because they rushed forward as one. Megan grabbed Ktana’s arm, the flesh rubbery and somehow fragile under her fingers, as though it was only a thin layer of flesh over something putrid that was about to burst. It did split a little as she dug her fingernails in, trying to break the demon queen’s hold on her friend. Clear, reddish-brown liquid seeped out from the wounds, stinging Megan’s skin.
Brian fought Ktana’s other hand as it went for Tera’s chest, trying to catch it between his arm and his side so he could bring his hand down karate-chop style on the back of her elbow. She kept managing to slip out of the makeshift vice but he refused to let go, his movements increasingly frantic as the choked sounds coming from Tera’s throat grew fainter. Malleus and Maleficarum joined the fight, hitting Ktana, punching her, but nothing seemed to make any difference.
Megan looked around, desperate to find something that could help them, looking for Greyson and Spud. Spud she finally spotted, crouching over the body of the old woman on the floor. He stood up, caught her gaze, and looked away guiltily; fresh blood dripped off his knife.
Before she had time to even consider what that meant, Greyson pushed her aside. His eyes burned, his rage froze her to the bone, but his expression was impersonal, almost curious. Malleus and Maleficarum’s arms tightened around Ktana Leyak’s waist and neck; Tera gave one last choked gasp, and Greyson put his hands on Ktana’s grinning face.
Megan felt the heat first, heard Ktana’s laugh of triumph turn into a shriek of agony.
Then she disappeared, while Tera slid bonelessly to the floor.
“Tera! Oh my God, Tera!” Megan’s knees hit the tile with a painful thud as she checked Tera’s pulse, finding it—thready, but there. She put her hand under Tera’s neck and lifted, trying to open her airway at least a little bit.
Why wasn’t anyone helping her? Tera was alive, but what if she had a heart attack or something? Could witches have heart attacks? She assumed so, but they didn’t catch human diseases, so—
“What are you doing? What the fuck are you doing?”
Megan tore her gaze away from her pale, unmoving friend to see Brian surrounded by Greyson and the boys. Spud’s bloody knife was at his throat. Greyson’s hands hesitated on either side of Brian’s face. “Are your shields up, Brian?”
Brian caught her eye. “Megan, tell them to get off me!”
“She could come back! Are your shields up, do you still feel her in the room?”
Brian’s eyes widened. “I don’t—” He glanced down at the knife, then back up. “No, I think she’s gone.”
Tera coughed. Megan glanced down at her, wanting to help, but she couldn’t seem to move. “What do you mean, come back?”
Greyson lowered his hands and the boys relaxed too, stepping away and leaving Brian to slump against the wall.
“She’s a parasite, she could have tried to invade you, or that old woman if she’d still been clinging to life,” Greyson said. “Leyaks usually don’t—they’re imitators, not possessors—but she gets more power this way, I guess. I don’t know. But she disappeared before, and she’s disappeared now—”
“Before?” Tera croaked from the floor. “Before when?”
They all stood there, grouped together in the wreckage of the diner, until Tera broke the stillness by throwing up on Megan’s shoes.
Maldon wasn’t putting in the yard tonight. Greyson had been right about that—it was a show put on for her physical discomfort. Unfortunately, just sitting in the same room with him made her more uncomfortable, especially now that she’d come begging, needing information from him.
Sitting in a hotel room watching public-access television with a very grumpy witch who sounded like Wolf-man Jack was definitely preferable to this, and that was saying a lot. Lucky Brian got to take care of her instead, while Megan and Greyson ate dinner with Maldon and a few of his rubendas. His wife, Megan noticed, was nowhere to be seen.
Megan took another tiny bite of her fish. It was excellent, perfectly cooked, but her stomach was too full of butterflies for anything else to fit.
“So, Megan,” Maldon said, setting down his fork. “What information are you looking for? Your father’s business affairs? Your brother’s rehab? Your mother’s social clubs?”
Megan forced her features to stay still. Another ploy, designed to make her think Maldon knew everything about her family, possibly everything about her.
All the same…Dave’s rehab? If she hadn’t been so loath to admit she needed anything from Maldon at all, she would have loved to have that discussion. Not that she bore Dave any ill will—or at least not much—and not that she wasn’t glad he’d gotten help if he needed it, but still…
“I’m interested in what you did for him,” Megan said, repeating the line she and Greyson had gone over in the car. “How you helped him. What he did for you in return.”
Maldon smiled. “I thought you might be. Now let’s see…You need two pieces of information from me. Two things you want. So do I get two things in exchange?”
She took a deep breath. “I’ll owe you a favor.”
“Two.”
“Not an equal exchange,” Greyson said. His hand on her thigh sent waves of reassuring warmth through her body, while the rest of her shivered. God, Maldon hated Greyson. The emotion was so close to anger she felt it, ghostly cool against her bare arms.
Dressing up had been the last thing she’d wanted to do, but demons loved formality, so here she was, in a black cocktail dress Malleus had picked up for her at the mall while Tera settled into bed and the rest of them had a few tense words going over what Tera did and did not need to know about Ktana Leyak.
“Two bits of information, two favors.”
Greyson dipped his head to the side. “Are the pieces of information totally unrelated?”
Maldon looked away.
“Good. One favor.” Greyson gave her thigh a squeeze. “Ask your questions, Meg.”
Whatever Maldon’s other faults, his bartender did excellent work. Megan fortified herself with a sip of vodka tonic and took a deep breath. “What did you do for my father?”
“I gave him acceptance. I pulled strings, greased a few palms—with his money, of course.” Maldon shrugged. “People who had things against him and your mother suddenly forgot. People were persuaded. Not difficult, but time consuming.”
“But why? Why would you do it for him?” Wheels spun in her head but didn’t manage to touch ground and move forward. There was another question to be asked, she knew it, but she couldn’t seem to formulate it in her head.
“He helped with my books, which are quite complex. He had a good head for figures, your father. I’m sorry he died. He’ll be difficult for me to replace.”
“He helped with your books as payment or he helped with them before?” She didn’t remember seeing Maldon around when she was young, but that didn’t matter. The acquaintance, if it was based on her father’s needing help to get past the town’s anger at her, would have begun when she was well past the age of noticing or caring what her parents did.