Page 21 of Speak of the Devil

Now, though…now he could feel it, sort of like the first thunderheads that began to build up on a hot summer afternoon, not a threat so far, but something that could change at a moment’s notice.

Well, not a threat to him, anyway. The ghost might not have known exactly what he was, but it seemed to understand he wasn’t quite like the woman who stood a few feet away, now with the palo santo stick in one hand so she could wave it around and let the smoke purify and cleanse their immediate surroundings.

“I know you’re here,” she said, and her voice now was soft, almost pleading, very different from the brisk, businesslike tone she’d employed ever since Caleb first walked into her office. “And I know change can be difficult. But there’s no reason for you to linger here. There is so much waiting for you, so many opportunities that don’t exist for you on this plane. It’s time for you to move on.”

A wave of cold hit his body, and he realized the spirit had passed right through him, heading toward Delia.

In that moment, Caleb knew far more about the home’s resident ghost than he’d ever wanted to.

And he understood exactly why it had lingered here rather than moving on to the next phase of its existence. While Delia’s motivations were pure, and he was sure she only thought she was helping these earthbound spirits relinquish their former lives so they could ascend to the next plane, in some cases, they remained behind simply because they didn’t want to go to Hell.

Having spent a few years there, he could sympathize…but that didn’t mean he wanted this murderous bastard hanging out in a property he wanted to buy.

Although she no longer stood at the edge of an empty pool, Caleb knew Delia was still in danger.

A word of warning would only let her know that her new client was a little bit more than he claimed.

Better to handle this himself.

Because although he couldn’t be banished like a regular demon might, that didn’t mean he couldn’t attempt a banishing of his own.

No words spoken, no cajoling to get the ghost to relinquish its grip on this house. After that brush-by with the spirit, Caleb had seen everything…and now knew that the lower-level bonus room he’d already imagined turning into a man cave hid its own terrible secret.

The bodies of the five women the ghost had lured here during his lifetime, strangled and then buried.

He’d have to do something about that once the house was his.

In the meantime, this was all about brute psychic strength.

Flaming fingers grasped the ghost by its neck. For one horrible second, the spirit glared into Caleb’s eyes, all its hatred burning as bright as the fire that even now began to envelop him.

Go to Hell, you bastard!

The intention, the thought, was all he needed to employ. Shrieking, the spirit vanished, sucked down into the water-stained subfloor…heading much deeper than that.

Delia’s eyes widened for a second, and then she looked around, the confusion in her pretty features shifting into something like relief.

“I think it’s gone,” she said.

Oh, the spirit was definitely gone. Maybe it could take Caleb’s former spot in Hell.

He sure didn’t need it anymore.

“How can you tell?” he asked, doing his best to act as if he had no idea of what had just transpired.

She looked around them, then picked up the piece of palo santo from where it rested in the ashtray and gently blew it out,followed by the white chime candle, although she extinguished the candle by stubbing it against the ashtray rather than blowing on it.

“It’s hard to explain…a sort of lightness, I guess. Something in the atmosphere of the house has shifted.”

“That’s good,” Caleb said. “So, it’s safe now?”

A pause, and then she stepped out of the pantry so she could stand in the middle of the kitchen, arms outspread. With her coppery hair falling loose over her shoulders, she looked like some kind of pagan priestess.

Well, except for the gray suit and black pumps she wore.

“I think so,” she replied.

“Perfect,” he said. “Because I want to make an offer.”

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