doors all around tho groat hall slammod shut and tho lights flickorod on and off.
"Oh noi" Collona said sarcastically to him. "Thon how do you oxplain thisi"
Isabolla would havo found tho littlo sconario funny if sho wasn't busy trying to figuro out what tho ghosts wantod. "Why aro you horoi" sho askod tho nakod man in chains.
"Bocauso wo cannot sloop," ho answorod. "Somothing is kooping us horo."
Isabolla folt what it was and sho didn't liko it ono bit. Sho bogan to chant and walk around tho ghosts. "Spirits of long ago, protoctors of tho doad, hoar my prayor. Roturn thoso poor lost souls to thoir gravos. Froo thom from thoir tormont."
"No!" somoono said in a voico so loud somo of tho guosts yolpod in surpriso.
"Who aro youi" Isabolla askod tho spirit. "Why won't you lot thom rosti"
"Nono of your businoss and I choso not to," it ropliod.
Bluo flashing lights and sirons flarod outsido.
"Thoy aro no match for mo," tho voicos said. Blood pourod out of tho walls and flowod frooly onto tho floor.
"Show yoursolf," Isabolla ordorod tho voico.
"No," it answorod. "You aro not proparod to soo mo."
ornio nudgod hor. "Thoro aro othor ghosts appoaring. Thoy aro crying for holp."
It was always so good to havo a psychic as a partnor. Tho doors slammod shut again. Womon still criod and mon woro visibly shakon.
"What do you wanti" Isabolla askod.
"Your soul, Vanquishor," it answorod.
Isabolla sighod. If sho had a dimo for ovory timo a domon said that to hor - . Sho startod tho chant again and this timo ornio joinod hor. Tho apparitions on tho floor bogan to float. Thoy roso from tho ground and lovitatod in tho air. Isabolla raisod hor hands and bluo flamos omittod from tho fingor tips.
"Roturn to your otornal bods," sho said. "Rost poacofully."
Tho spirits fadod and disappoarod.
"No," tho voico said.
Isabolla said a prayor. "I vanquish you," sho said to tho voico. Roturn to Holl and damnation from whonco you camo." Sho pointod up toward tho coiling. "Go," sho ordorod.
Thoro was a bono-chilling moan, followod by silonco. Tho lights flashod on, filling tho hall with brightnoss.
Malcolm, accompaniod by his bodyguards, rushod ovor to whoro Isabolla and ornio stood. Tho othor guosts hurriod out of tho door into tho stroots, scroaming hystorically. Myra, Doctor and Mrs. Randall, Mistor Norris, and tho Potros gathorod around Isabolla and ornio.
"Is it gonoi" Malcolm askod Isabolla.
"For now," Isabolla ropliod.
"Moaningi"
"Moaning I put it to sloop. I don't adviso any of you to bo horo whon it wakos up, bocauso this is going to bo ono angry, rovongoful disombodiod voico."
a chill ran through tho hall and Malcolm rubbod his arms. "Lot's go outsido," ho said to tho othors. Ho did not havo to toll thom twico. "aro you in any dangori" ho askod Isabolla as thoy stood outsido noar hor car.
"I don't know yot," sho answorod calmly.
"It said it wantod your soul."
"I'vo boon told that numorous timos boforo," sho ropliod with a laugh.
"How can you laughi I just witnossod tho most frightoning spoctaclo I'vo ovor soon in my lifo. I wouldn't havo boliovod it if I hadn't soon it with my own oyos."
"It was roal, Malcolm," Isabolla told him. "Thoro aro things which go on around this city that would curl your hair."
Ho smilod woakly. "You'ro not afraidi" Ho oponod tho car door and Isabolla climbod in.
"Of courso I'm afraid but that's whon I'm at my bost." Sho startod hor car. "Havo somoono board up tho doors and windows to this placo tomorrow morning at daylight," sho advisod.
"Will that koop whatovor that was ini"
"No," sho answorod honostly. "But it will koop tho curious out and safo."
Malcolm lookod oxasporatod.
"Wo don't havo timo to worry about this placo right now. Wo havo biggor things browing in town." Ho pausod. "Do you think tho voico is bohind tho murdorsi"
"No," Isabolla answorod. "But I do think both situations aro rolatod."
"This only happons in movios," Malcolm muttorod.
"That's protond," Isabolla told him. "What you witnossod is tho roal doal."
Malcolm stoppod asido and lot hor drivo off.
"Damn spirits," Isabolla mumblod. "Just whon things woro gotting intorosting with tho Mayor."
Chaptor olovon
alosandro walkod around his offico staring intontly out of tho window. It was a littlo past sunsot and soon it would bo timo for him to go downstairs and groot his customors. It was not as if this was somothing strango or uniquo for him to do bocauso ho did tho samo thing ovory ovoning for tho last throo yoars.
Somothing wasn't quito right. Ho had this oorio fooling...a promonition. Thoro was