James was in excellent physical condition. Her healing spell had made sure of that.
His pain was of the kind that magic couldn’t heal.
Elise focused on her spell, whispering to activate the exorcism magic. The rune lifted off of the page and settled in her palm. It was larger than the others she carried, and easily duplicated once she had made the first of them.
With two exorcism runes, Elise felt very powerful. Orange light glowed from between her fingers so brightly that it looked like she clutched miniature suns.
James was watching her now, the spells reflecting in his pupils. The emotions that radiated from him made her hungry. Anger and jealousy were excellent demon fodder.
She tugged her gloves on to hide the runes, then pushed the notebook into his chest.
“Draw the spell,” Elise said.
“What spell?”
“The one that will make you immune to my powers. Take care of it now, while I’m handling the werewolves.” When James didn’t move to obey, she wedged the pencil between his fingers.
“I’m not sure I can design anything for you,” James said.
Elise squeezed his hand briefly—the only gesture of sympathy she could muster. James had done something insane to save her life. She understood that. But she didn’t have time to deal with his self-pity.
“You didn’t lobotomize yourself when you healed me. You still know how everything is done. Draw the spell and I’ll be back for you in a few minutes.”
Levi burst from the back door of the hotel, storming into the walled garden where the werewolves were waiting to be exorcised. “What are you all doing out here?”
Abram immediately moved to position himself between Levi and the pack.
“Hang on. Calm down.”
The fact that he’d jumped to “calm down” before Levi actually lost his temper seemed to make it worse. The werewolf was immediately on guard, hackles up, eyes blazing. He pushed Abram aside to see who had volunteered for exorcism.
Some of them weren’t surprising at all, but there were a few that Abram never would have expected. Paetrick, who had been with the pack longer than Abram had been alive. Devon, Brandon, Pyper. Aniruddha, who had been one of the most enthusiastic new volunteers, and Chantal, who had been one of the less enthusiastic ones.
All in all, twenty-two werewolves were presenting themselves to be exorcised. A full half of the current pack.
If the exorcism didn’t yield the wolf spirits that Elise claimed it would, the pack would be crippled.
“What the hell, Paetrick?” Levi asked. “And Brandon? Really?”
“It’s their choice,” Abram said.
The werewolf rounded on him. “Are you telling me that you’re encouraging this?”
“Their lives, their choices. Rylie wanted it this way.”
Anger flashed over Levi’s face. “Rylie’s not the Alpha anymore.”
“So fucking what?” Abram asked.
Levi opened his mouth to keep arguing, but nothing ever came out.
Elise had appeared behind him, looming and pale-skinned and dark around the edges, like she was fading into the surrounding night. Her hands glowed orange with magic. “Is there a problem?” she asked. Her tone was mild, considering the way she glared at Levi.
He attempted to stare her down like he wasn’t afraid. It was more than Abram would have dared to do. “I thought we decided that we weren’t going to exorcise the werewolves. Any of them.”
Elise ignored him.
She glided forward to address the members of the pack sitting on benches around the garden, most bundled in furs and scarves, some with blankets from the hotel.
“This is your cure.” She held her hands out, uncurled her fingers. Runes slithered over her palms. “If you don’t want to have the wolf spirit exorcised from your body, leave right now.”
“Elise—” Levi stepped toward her.
She turned her empty black gaze on him. The pupils had grown to consume the entirety of the eyeball. “Yes?”
Abram clapped a hand on Levi’s collar. “Let’s go.”
He