Page 85 of Insidious Monsters
Realization pricked at my scalp. Bloody hell. “Youlethim kill you.”
She lifted her chin with pride. “Others will rise where we have fallen. A new army for the Holy to bring to power. Our world will be saved from what’s to come.”
I needed her to tell me who the Holy was. I needed to know his identity. A disgruntled spirit would have spilled those details. Margie wouldn’t. Not without a little bluffing.
I crossed my arms and fixed a smug smile on my face. “Your Holy won’t be doing a damn thing from within three layers of warding. The guild has him.”
Margie’s eyes went wide. “No. That can’t be. We had a plan. It was flawless.”
“Yeah, whatever.” I rolled my eyes.
Anger etched her features. “The disguise was perfect. I saw it. I saw them lead him out of here with care.” The only people led out had been the survivors. Two women and a guy…the guy. Oh, God. “They didn’t know they couldn’t have…” Her eyes grew round. “They didn’t know, did they?”
My pulse raced. “No. Not until now. But it doesn’t matter. The van transporting your Holy and the other mystics was in a crash. It exploded. There are no survivors. Your Holy is dead.”
Laughter echoed around the room. “You fool. You can’t kill the Holy that easily. All he’s done is set himself free.”
“What do you mean?” Oh, God. Wait. Had the Holy caused the accident?
“You didn’t come here to help us find peace. You came to trick us into betraying the Holy.”
More specters appeared. The other cultists, bloody and angry as they converged on me.
Um…okay, maybe it was time to leave. I backed up toward the exit. “You can’t hurt me, Margie.”
Only a twisted could do that.
As soon as the thought scrolled through my head, the specters morphed into bulky forms with serrated maws and five-inch nails. Long, ratty hair hovered in the air around their heads.
Oh, shit. This was bad. Real bad. “Margie, you need to pull back. You need to control yourself. You do not want to become this creature.”
She stared back at me with dark, dead eyes. The memories that had made Margie human were gone. Only hunger and vengeance remained.
The twisted attacked.
There was no time to flee or call for help. I threw up my hands, funneling every ounce of energy I had into raising my psychic shields, which may have protected me against one twisted but not this many.
The air fizzed and the temperature dropped sharply.
I braced for an impact that never came. I slowly lowered my arms and peered over them to find my view blocked by seven spectral forms.
They floated between me and the twisted with their backs to me, but I recognized them for what and who they were.
The dead mystics. The ones who’d fed on me, but I couldn’t do that again. Couldn’t allow them to feed off me. It had almost killed me last time.
Go.A voice filled my head.We are yours and you are ours. Go.
Beyond the barrier of specters, the twisted clawed and thrashed at the air in futile attempts to get to me.
They shall not harm you. Now go so that we may devour.
I didn’t get what was happening here, but my gut told me to trust the specters to protect me and deal with the twisted.
“Thank you.”
I turned and ran for the foyer. If my conclusions were right, then I’d been in the same room as the Holy last night. I’d looked into his watery blue eyes and touched his hand. My stomach dipped with horror as another revelation hit me.
Archie had ordered takeout while in the room.
