Luke looked over at his sister and then back at me. "Soon they'll figure out Darla's missing and start searching for her, searching for us. We need to head back to the car and get out of here as fast as we can." He put his arm around Darla and started urging her away from the hotel.

I walked over to Freddy's bag and started rummaging through it, looking for a weapon I could use. I pulled out the axe. It was heavy, but light enough for me to swing. "I can't leave those people to be killed by Macaven and his insane followers."

"You saw how many there were. We're outnumbered," Luke said.

"We can't just turn and run," I cried. James's spirit was still bound as a banshee. My father's spirit was lost within the dagger. I believed they both could be saved—there had to be some way to free them. I wasn't going to run away again, not this time.

Luke's eyes met mine. "Our guild will be back next week. When they come back, we'll make sure Macaven pays for what he's done."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "By next week Macaven will have freed the demon. You said it yourself: there are no more demon killers. You said there isn't anyone strong enough to stop him. Macaven is powerful now, but with a demon at his side, he'll be invincible."

Luke's arm tightened around his sister. "Colina, it's suicide to go back in there."

"I can't leave those people. I won't leave those people. I won't leave James," I said through clenched teeth. I swung the axe. It sank a good inch into the solid trunk of the nearest tree.

Luke was starting to get angry. "What do you think you're going to do with that? You think you can take on dozens of mages with your little axe? You aren't thinking straight. You have a right to be upset about your brother and your father, I understand—"

I cut him off. "You don't understand." I pulled the axe out with a violent tug. I watched helpless as my entire family was taken away from me. My brother's soul was bound to a madman, my father's soul possibly imprisoned in an evil dagger. I couldn't walk away. I had to make Macaven and his coven pay for what they did.

"We have to play it smart and wait for backup." Luke's eyes were now pleading with me.

"You don't have any banshee power. You don't know any spells. We go back in there and we are all dead."

I knew what he was saying was true, but I didn't care. A red-hot frustration burned inside me. I was past reason. The only thought pounding through my head was revenge.

I looked at him and said, "I'm going back in."

Luke made a grab for me, but I pushed him away. I started running back toward the house. What I was doing was suicide, but I didn't care. What if by the time we came back with his guild, the coven had all disappeared? Once they left, it might be impossible to find them again. I knew where they were now, and I wasn't going to lose this chance to try and stop them. With their deaths, dozens would be saved.

This was my last chance before Macaven became untouchable, too powerful for anyone to stop.

I ran toward the hotel. Luke started to follow but tripped over a branch and hit the ground hard. By the time he got up and started after me again, I was already at the door. I slipped inside.

Anger fueled my blood and violence radiated out of me. The powerful darkness coursed through my body giving me power and I could feel sliding down my limbs and tingling from my fingertips.

I'd find a way to balance the scales. These madmen would pay for what they did with their lives.

***

This time there was no one standing watch over the archway. I had no plan of action. I wasn't thinking now, only reacting. My heart pounded in my chest; I could hear it roaring in my ears. An image of the dagger flashed before my eyes. If I could get my hands on the dagger, I could stop Macaven from creating the demon. I'd freed Thomas, hadn't I? I could find a way to use my new abilities to free my father. Kill the mage and the banshees go free. If I could kill Macaven, my brother's spirit would be released.

I needed to get my hands on the dagger and thrust it through Macaven's heart. If only I could create some kind of distraction and get close enough to the altar. I could wait until they weren't paying attention and make a grab for the knife. If I could get near Macaven, I might just be able to pull it off.

And once I did? How would I get away? How could I possibly escape? I pushed those thoughts aside and kept moving.

I went through one room and into the hallway. I was jogging now, trying to get back to the convocation before they moved on to human sacrifices. I didn't know what time it was, but, come midnight, Luke said they would move from killing livestock to killing people. They would start murdering the hostages held down below. Once I killed Macaven, I'd try to find a way to help the others escape.

No more innocent people would die, not if I could help it.

I came up to the door into the main room. I could hear people cheering on the other side. An image of Luke flashed through my mind and my fingers hesitated on the doorknob. There was a good chance I wouldn't make it out of this alive, and there were things left unsaid between us. I'd never told Luke how sorry I was about the stupid fight we'd had. How, the more I thought about it, the more I realized I did want to stay with him after this was all over. If his guild wouldn't accept me, maybe the two of us could go off together on our own. Luke said he wanted to be with me. If he cared about me, he might be willing to leave his guild to be with me.

I shook my head. If I did this—if I went through the door—I was risking everything to try and save the innocent lives of the people Macaven held hostage. But more importantly, I was getting vengeance for my family's death. My brother and father were dead, but Macaven still held their spirits. I had to try and release them from the dark mage's hold.

A sob escaped my mouth, and my hands trembled. I had to do it. I would fight this time, I would save what I could of my family.

I had to try.

I took a deep breath and let the anger run through me like a fire. It was what I needed now—the anger, the violence—that made death dealers so effective. I might not have spells, but Luke was wrong. I did have some magic.

I could raise the dead.

So what if I couldn't bring forth banshees? All I needed was a dead body or two, and I could create the distraction I needed. My mind didn't even shy away at the thought of killing someone. I was no longer the weak, helpless healer who'd stumbled into the magic shop. I'd been through the rituals and survived them. I watched my family be slaughtered, and I was still functioning. I'd been tested by fire and come out stronger. The fire turned me to steel.

I pushed open the door and walked into the room. Macaven was still by the altar, but this time instead of a ram lying across it, there was a teenage boy. The boy's hands were tied to either side of the stone surface as Macaven stood over him.

Everyone in the room except Macaven was swaying back and forth. As I passed a group of people, I realized no one in the crowd seemed aware I was there. They all were in some kind of trance. Macaven held a black book in one hand and the dagger in the other. He was reading words from the book in Latin with such intensity that he didn't notice when I entered.

I moved forward through the swaying crowd, weaving my way around black capes and making my way toward the altar. I pushed back my cloak, gripped my fingers tightly around the base of the axe.

Someone bumped into me. I turned. This guy didn't have a glazed expression on his face. He looked pissed. His hands came up and he started to make a grab for me.

He said, "Got her!" and I realized he was talking into an earpiece.

More guards were closing in on me from the back of the room. The coven had me trapped. I didn't doubt for a minute that they would kill me.

I didn't realize I'd lifted the axe until I saw it swinging down toward the man's head. It smashed into the side of his temple and stayed embedded as he fell to the ground. Blood spurted everywhere.

Adrenaline pumped through me. A part of me couldn't believe what I'd just done.

A cold breeze swirled around my neck, and the words "They're coming for you" whispered past my ear. Sarah was still with me.

I shook my head and looked across the sea of bodies. No one close to me seemed to notice what I had done. They were still swaying and chanting, their eyes glazed over. I could see movement, though—three or four men were making their way slowly around and through the crowd. I dropped to my knees next to the fallen guard. He was dead, I was sure of it. There was no spark of life in his eyes.

Before I could stop and think about what I was doing, I reached out with my hands and touched his face. A bright, orange light exploded, and there was a rush of sound and images. I sat back on my heels and watched as the dead man sat up.

"Girly, what've you have done to me now?" It was Wanda's voice. "You left me to that mob in the hospital. They tore the body I was in limb from limb, but it wasn't until all the parts started rotting that I was finally free, and now look what you've done!"

I closed my eyes and focused on Wanda's voice. I tried to reach out with my whole being and touch her spirit. I slowly spoke the words Luke had told me when I'd tried to bind Thomas's spirit. I didn't have a Ouija board or any of the other props, but I had to try something. "Constringo Constrixi Constrictum." I pointed toward the men coming my way and commanded, "Stop them."