A quick slash across her palm severed the lifeline in a symbolic gesture. Blood poured from it in an unnatural, steady river of red, despite the shallowness of the cut.

It splashed on the hawk, then spread outward, long fingers reaching for the other fetishes. But even when it reached them, the blood continued to flow from her palm, to deepen and pool until the hawk disappeared and nothing could be seen but a perfect circle of red and the four carved sentinels.

Elena’s brother crouched down so his face was even with Aisling’s. When his gaze traveled over her body and his hand went to his crotch, rage whipped through Zurael. With a hiss he lifted his head and opened his mouth, exposing the glistening, deadly fangs.

John laughed. He stroked his cock through the fabric of his jeans. “Your pet’s jealous, beautiful. He might be long and thick, but I can please you better. What do you say, ang-” His words ended in a gurgle as the metal cable pulled taut, snapping his head back. A scream followed, a sound of such torment that Zurael’s heart raced in sync with Aisling’s.

The noise ended as quickly as it began. Elena’s brother toppled forward with his knees underneath him and his forehead touching the red earth as though he were praying, begging for mercy. His panting sobs replaced the tortured agony of his scream.

He shuddered and cowered and finally calmed. In a subdued voice he said, “The one I serve sends you a glimpse of the future and a chance to change it. The choice is yours but the decision must be made before you leave here.”

Dread vibrated through Aisling as she looked down at the pool of blood. The surface was slick and shiny, a screen for horrible images to play out on.

The breath caught in her throat as an orchard of trees rippled into existence. Her chest grew tight as the outline of a familiar house shimmered into place. The old barn and paddocks for the livestock followed. And despite the bloody medium the images were captured on, for one precious second the scene was beautiful.

Then came the bodies.

Spiderweb-thin lines provided just enough detail so Aisling recognized each one of her family members. They were scattered, as though they’d died where they’d fallen.

Pain lodged in her chest and throat. Tears fell from her eyes, dropping into the pool and sending waves across its surface until there was nothing but her own reflection.

“How can I stop this from happening?” she whispered, turning her head so she could look at Elena’s brother.

As if her question released him from his supplicant’s pose, he stood. “Find the ones responsible for creating Ghost, then kill them.”

“Ghost is responsible for this?” She didn’t doubt the vision, but she found it hard to understand how it could be possible. No one in her family would be tempted by a substance that cast them into the spiritlands without protection.

“And more,” John said, waving his hand over the pool of blood.

Oakland’s skyline came into view and with it additional carnage. Only in this scene the living danced with glee, their heads thrown back in howls of victory.

They feasted on the dead, but they weren’t shapeshifters scavenging or the creatures that emerged from hiding after The Last War and the plague. They were malevolent entities from the ghostlands who’d found a pathway back to the place they’d once called home.

Aisling shivered at the sight of their maniacal pleasure. It was her darkest fear that while she was in the ghostlands her physical body would be possessed and whatever tied her spirit to it severed.

She closed her eyes and sought a place of calmness. On the screen of her thoughts the sequence of events played out like a net she grew more and more entangled in-the guardsmen and Father Ursu arriving to take her from her home, the bishop and Father Ursu giving her no true choice but to enter the spiritlands in order to look for Elena, Elena’s brother appearing, his help offered on the condition she remain in Oakland… Zurael.

She opened her eyes to glance at the serpent coiled around her arm. He burned with the fires of hell.

“I must personally kill the ones creating Ghost, or I may see them dead?”

John cocked his head. A heartbeat passed. “Either works, as long as the conduit is closed.”

Aisling didn’t know how the spiritlands were held open so the winds could flow over an earthly substance and create a doorway into the ghostlands. But she knew such a feat couldn’t be accomplished unless powerful forces in the spirit world were involved.

“I will be protected?”

John’s laugh was a sharp, angry bark. “What more do you need? You-” His head snapped back as the cable pulled tight.

Aisling braced herself for the sound of his screams, but this time they didn’t come. The mist began to gather instead. It swirled around his feet and quickly swallowed his legs and hips, signaling that soon others would come to answer her questions, and their help would not be offered without a cost.

She looked down. The pool of blood held only her reflection. The raven, spider, serpent, and bear fetishes stood as sentinels. The beings they represented waited only for her decision before they would end the ceremony and accept her offering.

A heavy weight settled in Aisling’s heart. She didn’t know what stain would be left on her soul, but to save her family there was only one choice. “I will kill whoever is responsible for creating Ghost, or see them dead.”

As soon as the words were spoken, the gray mist claimed Elena’s brother. Then it rushed over Aisling with a force that drove her out of the ghostlands.

Zurael was aware of the ferret’s presence immediately. Aziel was draped over Aisling’s shoulder, close enough that he could launch himself and sink sharp deadly teeth into the snake’s form.

Zurael hissed. He kept his fangs exposed as he slowly uncoiled himself from her arm and dropped to the dirt in the shaman’s ceremony room.

Rage roared through him as he realized the true extent of the crime Elena committed when she forced Aisling-and him-into the spiritlands. The front door was unlocked. Their physical bodies left vulnerable.

With a thought, he changed from serpent to man. His attention shifted to Aisling.

Tenderness filled him as he crouched next to her. It flowed in unexpectedly and brought a protectiveness that went beyond keeping her safe while she served as bait.

He’d been a shadow in her mind. Now he knew she’d been ensnared in the same spider’s web he’d been caught in.

Her eyes held the bruised look of one struggling with exhaustion. He found himself wanting to care for her and glanced at her hand, worried about the amount of blood she’d lost.

The slash across her palm was gone. For an instant he wondered if she’d paid with a part of her soul and the blood had been an illusion. But then she reached for the bone fetishes. They were bright red, as though they’d fed on what she offered.

The raven, spider, serpent and bear remained standing until she gathered them in her hand. The hawk lay shattered as if it had been sacrificed in order to give birth to a pentacle carved in onyx.

Uneasiness slid through Zurael when Aisling picked the talisman up and he saw the sigils carved into its black surface. They were familiar-making him think of the tomes meticulously cared for in the House of the Serpent-the volumes listing the enemies of the Djinn-the books containing the names of the angels.

Aisling ran her thumb over the pentacle. She compared the sigils etched into its smooth surface against the memory of those written on Elena. They weren’t the same.

She startled when Zurael’s hand gripped her wrist. Her pulse raced at the gentleness of his touch and the heat of his flesh. He was crouched next to her so it was impossible to miss the swelling of his cock in the molded leather of his pants.