Page 116 of The Curse of Redwood

“No,” I hissed, regaining a bit of my control as I stopped Philip from slitting my throat. My arm shook and sweat beaded on my brow as I fought him with every ounce of strength I had left.

Callum’s chanting quickened, and I saw his body shaking as he stood in place, concentrating on the spell.

And then I dropped the dagger.

Philip was gone.

My legs gave out from exhaustion and I started to collapse. Zeke rushed forward and caught me before I hit the floor. He cried into my hair and rocked me in his arms, kissing my temple, cheek, and then finally, my lips.

“Oh, my love,” he wept, brushing my bangs aside. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

“I’ll try not to get possessed again,” I said with an exhausted smile. My voice was hoarse and gravelly.

“It’s not over yet,” Callum said in a strained tone. “The spirit is in the circle, now I must banish him before he can break loose.”

When I looked over at Callum, chills shot down my spine. Philip stood in the middle of the pentagram over his bones, appearing exactly as he had the day I’d first seen him in my living room. Dark blond hair, green eyes, and wearing clothes similar to Zeke’s, though his were more simplistic.

A strangled sound left Zeke’s lips as he laid eyes on Philip too. “He looks so…”

“Angry?”

He nodded and helped me to my feet.

“Release me!” Philip roared in a deep, guttural voice. Dark circles were around his eyes, and he didn’t look human whatsoever with his decayed face and twitching of his body. He reminded me of the demon possessed people in horror movies—only more terrifying becausehewas real.

Callum walked over to the small altar he’d set up and made quick work of finishing the ritual. As he uttered a spell, he added crushed pomegranate seeds, some kind of root, and a handful of dried rhubarb leaves into a bowl and ground them together. He then took out a vial of water and added a splash to the concoction.

“Stop this!” Philip growled, as Callum stepped toward the salt circle. Then, he focused on us standing a few feet away. “Ezekiel. Please. Don’t let him send me away. You have the power to save me this time.”

Zeke stilled at my side. He didn’t say a word.

I grabbed his hand and leaned against his shoulder.

Callum spoke in a loud, clear voice, holding the bowl in front of him. Was he speaking Latin? It was definitely not anything I recognized. After he finished repeating the words three times, he poured the mixture over the bones at Philip’s feet.

“Banish the harmful and the bad, the anger and the rage,” Callum said. “Give this spirit’s soul peace, release him from his cage. As I do will it, so mote it be!”

Philip threw his head back and roared before he slumped in place. When he lifted his head again, his face was devoid of decay, rot, and darkness. His pale skin faintly glowed, and the expression on his face wasn’t angry or filled with hatred. He looked… peaceful.

“Philip?” Zeke asked, stepping closer.

“Forgive me,” Philip said to Zeke as he softly smiled.

His body shimmered before he disappeared.

No one spoke for several minutes. Callum slunk to the floor, breathing heavily and wiping sweat from his forehead, while Zeke and I held each other and stared at the salt circle where Philip once stood.

“It’s really over?” I asked, breaking the silence.

“Yes,” Callum answered, leaning his head against the wall as he looked up at me. “His soul is finally at rest.”

The air shifted in the mansion, and I sucked in a shaky breath. The heavy, oppressing feeling had lifted.

“Mr. Warren!” William ran down the steps and stopped in front of us. He pointed to the balcony. “Look!”

The ghosts began disappearing, one by one. Before they did, they tilted their face to the ceiling and smiled.

“What’s going on?” I asked, even though I suspected the answer.