Without warning she flew straight at Heather and plunged both hands into her chest.
Heather screamed, her legs giving out. Jane followed her to the floor, chanting under her breath. The coils freed Claire and she dropped to the floor. A second later heat scorched her right hip. Fumbling in the coat pocket, she yanked out the crystal by its chain. Black smoke roiled in the center of the crystal, a whirlwind of darkness.
Closing her eyes Claire slammed the crystal against the wall.
It shattered, and Jane screamed. Yanking herself from Heather, she whirled—and stilled when smoke poured out of the crystal shards. It snaked over Claire’s hand, cold and oily, then slid over the top of the altar and attached itself to Jane.
“Stop—” She beat at the dark, shiny coils. “You are part of me! You are meant to serve me!” With a wild scream, she gathered in the smoke, trapping it between her hands, fighting to control it.
Footsteps echoed in the ballroom, just before Simon burst through the far door.
With a smile that sent panic shooting through Claire, Jane turned around. “You want to play—go play!”
She threw the coiled smoke into the air. It shot across the ballroom and slammed into Simon. He dropped like a stone, writhing as the smoke engulfed him.
“No—” Claire pushed off the wall, stepped in front of Jane. The madness in her eyes nearly shocked the breath out of Claire. “Let him go, and I am yours.”
Jane ran one icy finger down her cheek. “There is a darkness, almost buried behind the shine of that soul. I could manipulate it, I think. Let it feed on my power. That’s what it wants, what you no longer have. Power. Control.” She spread her hands in front of Claire, as if basking. “Yes,” she said. “Yes.”
“You want it—let him go.”
“Fine.” With a petulant gesture she yanked the smoke off Simon. He collapsed—and for an endless moment lay still, not moving. Not breathing. Her heart lurched when he took in a gasping breath, rolled on to his back. “Satisfied?”
“Thank you.” Claire turned to the altar, her mind screaming to do something, anything to stall—and she found her weapon. Clutching the edge of the table, shivering, she curled over her hands. “Sorry—I haven’t—recovered yet.”
One hand inched across the table, her fingers touching the silver lighter—just as Jane buried her hand in Claire’s back.
Her knees buckled, and she fell, knocking the table over as she went down. Jane followed her, the invasion excruciating. Claire’s fingers scrabbled on the polished hardwood, her narrowing focus on one goal.
She screamed when Jane plunged deeper, felt the icy grip close around her heart. Gasping, she groped for the comb. With a tsking sound, Jane pulled it out of her numb fingers.
“Now, what were we planning to do with that?”
“Nothing,” Claire whispered. She uncurled her fingers—and flicked the lighter clutched in her other hand. “I just needed this.”
The white blonde hair caught, the flame bursting out of her hand.
Jane shrieked, reached for the burning hair. Blue white flames shot out of her mouth.
With a harsh gasp, Claire rolled away, felt Jane’s hand rip out of her back. Smacking into the table, she found herself trapped between the wood and a furious, burning ghost.
Jane reared up, her scream spiraling to ear-splitting. Claws sprouted, glistening with fire—and with a horrible shriek she recoiled when the fire began to devour her.
The shriek became rage—and she flung herself at Claire.
Claire raised her arms, braced for the agony. Jane’s scream cut off as the flames consumed her. The silence was shocking. It took an endless moment for Claire to realize she was still alive, that her crazy plan worked. Jane was gone.
“Simon—” She lowered her arms, found him on his knees beside her, his face bruised and bloody, the skin on his throat scraped raw. “Heaven above—”
She started to push herself up—and gasped as her body rebelled.
“Stay put. We should have company—” Shouts echoed in the hallway. “Any second.” With a groan, he lowered himself to the floor beside her. She inched her hand across the hardwood, touched his fingers. Simon looked at her, closed his fingers over hers. “Thank you.”
She managed a smile. “My pleasure.”
Annie ran into the ballroom, armed to the teeth, Mindy Kay on her heels. They both skidded to a halt, staring at Heather, sprawled and unconscious, then at Claire and Simon.
“We missed the party, didn’t we?”
Claire laughed, then flinched, every cell aching. “Sorry.”
Annie crouched beside them, setting her shotgun and pistol aside. “Someday, I’m going to get the chance to pull you out of the fire.”