Haunted - By Kelley Armstrong Page 0,157

on my back. Savannah stared down at me, face twisted in hate and rage. For a second, my gut went ice-cold. She thought I’d killed Jaime, maybe even Paige. Then I looked into her eyes, and knew my daughter wasn’t in there.

The Nix leaned down, her hands still locked around my throat.

“How does it feel, witch? I could snap your neck right now. Could have done it the moment I grabbed you. But this is more poetic, don’t you think? Kill you the same way you tried to kill me.”

I squirmed, but her demonic strength pinned me to the cold floor.

“I suppose I should thank you. Had I known I could leap bodies, I wouldn’t have wasted my time in that silly necromancer.” She closed her eyes and shivered. “This is a body truly worthy of a demon. So young and so powerful.”

I opened my mouth to cast, but could only gasp.

“Now it’ll be no trouble pinning the blame on your daughter, when it really is her hands choking the life from her guardian.”

Her grip tightened and the world dipped into blackness. I fought to stay conscious, writhing beneath her, trying to get an arm or leg free.

“Why do you struggle?” she said. “You aren’t going to die. You already did. You’ll just return to where you were. It’s the little witch who will suffer for your failure. Her and her husband, killed by their dear—”

The Nix jerked back, her grip loosening. She looked up over my head.

“Wait your turn, sorcerer,” she snarled.

I tilted my head back to see Lucas pull a shovel from the wall.

“Get off her,” he said.

The Nix’s eyes went wide. “Lucas? What are you—?”

“I know you aren’t Savannah,” he said, voice level. “Now get off her.”

As he pulled the shovel back, I wriggled out from under the Nix. She didn’t even seem to notice, just smiled and got to her feet. Lucas swung back the shovel.

“Do you really think you can do that?” she asked. “What if you kill her? Hit just the right spot, and down she goes, never to get up again.”

Lucas hesitated. I opened my mouth to tell him to do it, to hit her on the shoulder or the torso, just knock her down, but my bruised throat wouldn’t let out anything more than a gasp. Lucas dropped the shovel and raised his hands to cast. The Nix charged.

I pushed to my feet, gasping for breath. The Nix grabbed Lucas by the arm and whipped him against the wall. His head struck a beam. She threw his limp body aside and turned on me.

I cast the anti-demon spell. Even as the words left my lips, panic shot through me. Did Paige know this spell? What else—

The Nix went rigid. Her limbs convulsed and she toppled back to the floor. I dove for her, but she kicked me away, stumbled to her feet, and staggered through the back door, into the house. Her footfalls stumbled down the stairs. Perfect. There was no escape route from the windowless basement. She’d have to come back this way. That anti-demon spell had almost drained Paige’s reserve, and I was still gasping for air. I needed a moment. I looked down at Lucas. He needed me to take a moment.

I knelt beside Lucas and felt his pulse. Still strong. I cast a couple of healing spells in succession. It zapped the rest of Paige’s spell-casting power, but I knew it was what she’d want me to do. After another quick check of his pulse and breathing, I leaned back on my heels and struggled to catch my breath.

The Nix was in Savannah. To stop her, I’d need to do what Lucas hadn’t been able to do—attack my daughter.

I pushed to my feet and ran into the house.

I touched down on the last step and paused there, scanning the dark basement. To my left was the freezer and cold cellar. To my right, the laundry room. Behind me would be two more rooms—

A roar. I looked up to see Savannah running at me from the workshop. As she charged, she swung a hammer back over her head. And I did nothing. I couldn’t. I knew this wasn’t Savannah and yet that’s who I saw—my child running at me, hammer raised, face contorted with hate.

At the last second, I sprang from the step. The hammer smashed into my shoulder blade. Bone cracked. Paige’s bone, not mine. I tried not to think of that, that every blow I took, every

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