Free Captive Spirit by Anna Windsor

Duncan Sharp, or whatever was trying to act through his battered flesh and bones, gave up and collapsed.
    Less than five seconds later, he lapsed into a deep, unconscious sleep, and the poisoned energy from his wounds flickered away into nothing. The gold coin around his neck glittered in the light of the treatment room, looking for all the world like a metallic cap, sealing off whatever was trying to break out of his essence and take over the brownstone.
    Bela wasn’t certain she was still breathing. She had to push against her own chest to make sure she was still standing there, in her own basement, in her own laboratory.
    Yellow. Check.
    Sand tones. Check.
    Creamy brown background. Check.
    Crabby Mothers, wet water Sibyl, paralyzed fire Sibyl, prickly air Sibyl—check, check, check, and check.
    “Bet that woke the new neighbor,” Andy said as she drew back the last waves of her water power and Dio and Camille turned her loose. “Good evening, Mrs. Knight. How do you like your new place? Oh, never mind the little satanic possession drama in the basement next door. We have everything under total control.” She scrubbed a dripping hand across her mouth. “Fuck me . Did he just turn into one of those things we fought in DUMBO?”
    The older Mothers moved past Bela and the rest of her quad to examine the sleeping patient. Bela’s senses told her that his body, at least, was holding its own. Her mind ricocheted between the Duncan who’d woken, spoken to her, and kissed her—and the disturbed, different Duncan who had shouted at her and almost torn the handcuffs and bed apart.
    Had they already failed him? Was Duncan Sharp transforming into something inhuman? Something they would have to exterminate for everyone’s safety? Bela’s insides started to ache. She wasn’t sure she could do that, not after he’d taken on those demons and fought so hard to live. He had a strength about him, physical and spiritual, that pulled at her.
    After a few seconds, Mother Keara stood and pronounced, “He’s still human.”
    Relief brushed Bela like a feather to the heart, and she put her hand on her chest.
    Mother Keara conferred briefly with Mother Yana and Mother Anemone.
    “This will take some time,” Mother Anemone said in her lyrical, breezy voice as she rolled up the delicate sleeves of her blue robes. “We’ll have to work in shifts this morning, and likely most of the day and night.”
    “Go.” Mother Yana’s tone was distracted as she wove more earth energy into the elemental locks securing Duncan Sharp. “The day vill pass fast enough, and you have patrol again come dark, no?”
    “No,” Camille said, then, “I mean, yes. We do.”
    “Ve vill call you vhen ve need you, Andrea, to help vith the healing,” Mother Yana told Andy. She held both bony hands over the detective’s chest, likely keeping his pulse steady. “Ve vill try not to pull you from your fighting duties, but it may be necessary.”
    For a moment, Andy looked like she wanted to argue, then seemed to regain her senses. She caught Camille’s hand, and the two of them started for the lab door, dripping a trail of water behind them.
    Dio shifted her weight, then cut Bela a quick glance. Her stormy eyes were noncommittal, but she managed to mumble, “We made you a sandwich. Well, Andy made you a sandwich.” She paused and made a face, because Andy and sandwiches … well, Andy liked to be creative, and the results weren’t always palatable. “While she was steaming the sprouts and cabbage, I dug through the archives to figure out what the hell we’re dealing with. So, eat—if you can swallow rye and sprouts and cabbage at the same time. Go to bed. We’ll talk when we go on patrol.”
    Bela started to thank Dio, but Dio clamped her mouth shut like she’d said too much and took off, moving with an air Sibyl’s speed and grace.
    Had Dio just tried to be nice?
    A tiny throb of pain touched Bela’s temples. Headache. That happened when she