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I zabela placed her left hand on the soul-catcher, which she had repaired earlier, and her right hand on Luca’s dagger.

Closing her eyes, she began to chant. In the last twelve hours, she had tried every spell she could think of save for this enchantment which she had created and which, in a hundred years, had never worked quite the way she had intended. But now she was desperate.

At first, there was nothing but a kind of magical static. And then, gradually, a hazy picture formed in her mind—a little red-headed girl, perhaps four or five years old, sat on her father’s lap while he read her a bedtime story.

Izabela’s chant grew more focused and the image changed, and now when she looked at the girl, she saw two souls inhabiting the same body—one spirit very young and innocent, the other very, very old and evil.

“Luca.” The name whispered past Izabela’s lips.

And the little girl with the red pigtails looked at her across time and space. And smiled.

Reeling back, Izabela snatched her hands from the soul-catcher and the dagger as if they had suddenly turned deadly.

How on earth had Luca invaded the body of a little girl?

Ordinarily, evil as vile and twisted as his could not overpower the innocence of a child.

Seeing his malevolent soul inside the girl’s body made Izabela sick to her stomach.

Deeply troubled, she rose and paced back and forth, the gray cat at her heels.

Luca Sasan was even more malevolent and powerful than she had feared.

The necromancer had no conscience, no sense of morality, no shred of decency.

Should he transfer into a stronger body, one whose mind could be easily manipulated, one whose soul was already tainted with evil, there was no end to the chaos he could unleash on an unwary world.

She wondered how long Luca could inhabit the child before his presence robbed her of her innocence and tainted the purity of her soul.

Evil spirits had been causing misery and anarchy since time began.

The Bible was filled with stories of ordinary men, women, and children who had been possessed by devils and malicious spirits.

Dropping into her rocking chair, Izabela picked up her cell phone and called Jason Kincaid. He was on her front porch almost before she finished speaking. Saintcrow, too.

Sighing, she went to answer the door. “Do either of you mean me any harm?”

Kincaid said, “No.”

“Not today,” Saintcrow muttered irritably.

She glowered at him a moment, then took a step back and unlocked the screen door. “Come in.”

“You have news?” Kincaid asked.

“Yes,” she said. “And none of it is good. But it will cost you just the same.”

Saintcrow and Kincaid exchanged glances as she pulled two familiar glass vials from the pocket of her voluminous bright purple skirt.

While Kincaid removed his jacket, Saintcrow rolled up his shirt-sleeve, bit into his wrist and held out his arm.

“What do you do with the blood?” he asked, as he watched the vial fill.

“None of your business,” the witch retorted as she capped the bottle and dropped it back into her pocket.

“You drink it, don’t you?” Saintcrow muttered, while Kincaid filled the second vial. “It’s what keeps you alive, isn’t it?”

Izabela scowled at him, but said nothing.

Saintcrow glanced at Kincaid and nodded, certain that she drank it. Vampire blood had long been known to heal sickness and injury and prolong life.

“So,” Kincaid asked, slipping back into his jacket. “What’s the news?”

Izabela settled into her rocker again, the gray cat on her lap. “Luca has possessed the body of a child. A girl, perhaps five years old.”

“Well, shit,” Saintcrow muttered. “How the hell did he do that?”

“I’m afraid he is far more powerful and dangerous than we thought.”

“Do you know where he is?” Kincaid asked.

“Not exactly. I tried to track him by using the dagger but all I could discern is that he’s somewhere in the States.”

“How long can he reside in the girl’s body?” Saintcrow asked.

Izabela shrugged. “As long as he wishes, or until he finds a host he likes better.”

“I’m guessing he’ll move into a new one,” Kincaid remarked. “Somebody bigger and stronger.”

Saintcrow nodded. “Someone who’s able to come and go as he pleases. A little girl doesn’t have much freedom. Or strength. She can’t drive and she certainly can’t physically overpower anyone.” He looked at Izabela. “Will you keep looking for him?”

“Of course,” she said, with a sly grin. “But it will cost you.”

“Do you really think she’s drinking our blood?” Kincaid asked as they left the witch’s house.

“Why wouldn’t she?” Saintcrow said. “You know as well as I do that vampire blood is capable of healing sickness and injury and prolonging life. If she’s not drinking it, then she’s likely using it for black magic.”

“Or selling it to other black witches,” Kincaid mused. “They use a lot of blood in their rituals.”

Saintcrow grunted. “So they say.” They walked a few blocks before he asked, “How long do you think Kadie can go on the way she is?”

Jake shook his head. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“She’s wasting away before my eyes,” Saintcrow said. “She seems to be … shrinking.”

“Shrinking?”

“I don’t know how else to describe it.” Saintcrow shoved his hands in his back pockets. “I have an idea.”

“Yeah? Let’s hear it.”

“I was thinking maybe I should give Kadie some human blood and then let her rest in the earth for a while.”

Kincaid stared at him, his brow furrowed. “Do you think that would help?”

“I don’t know. Ancient vampires bury themselves in the ground from time to time.”

Kincaid nodded. “Yeah. I’ve done it myself.”

“When you come up, you feel renewed. Refreshed. Maybe it will do the same for Kadie.”

Kincaid mulled it over a moment before saying, “It probably wouldn’t hurt.”

“At this point, I’m willing to try anything.”

Back in Wyoming, Saintcrow sought out a young woman. After mesmerizing her, he transported them to his lair in Morgan Creek.

Sitting on the edge of the bed with the woman beside him, he made a shallow cut in her hand, lifted Kadie’s head, and held the woman’s bleeding palm to Kadie’s lips. She swallowed convulsively, once, twice, three times.

Taking the woman’s hand in his, Saintcrow ran his tongue across her palm to seal the wound.

He stared at her a moment, thinking to drink her dry and bury her beside Kadie so Kadie would have some company.

But, in the end, he knew he couldn’t do it.

He would come back later and take the woman back to where he’d found her.

“You’re a lucky woman,” he muttered with a wry grin. “It’s only knowing that Kadie would never forgive me if I killed you that’s keeping you alive.”

Pulling a heavy blanket from the closet, he wrapped it around Kadie and transported the two of them to the Morgan Creek Cemetery.

The place was ancient, surrounded by a weathered wooden fence.

The gate was a rickety old thing. Holding Kadie close to his chest, he stared at row after row of wooden crosses, silent witnesses to the humans who had died in Morgan Creek when the vampires inhabited the town.

A few of the women had died after Kadie’s arrival.

It had amused him when she carved their names on their markers so they wouldn’t be forgotten.

A tall marble cross stood apart from the others.

When Micah had first been turned, he had lived in Morgan Creek.

During that time, he had fallen in love with one of the captives, an older woman who had loved him in return, but refused to let him turn her.

The wording on the marker simply read, Shirley Elizabeth Hague ~ Gone But Never Forgotten.

“You claimed you’d felt spirits here, sweetheart,” Saintcrow murmured, stroking Kadie’s hair.

“I didn’t believe you until they saved your life.

I remember when Sofia wanted to modernize the cemetery, but you said no.

I guess you were afraid of disturbing the ghosts of the dead.

I hope they’ll comfort you now and somehow give you the strength to survive. ”

A muscle twitched in Saintcrow’s jaw. If they couldn’t find a cure for this damn curse, Kadie would likely be joining those spirits before long.

He laid her gently on a patch of grass and knelt on the ground a few feet away. Using his bare hands, he dug a hole four feet deep, an easy task for a man with his strength.

Lifting her into his arms again, he held her close for a long time, praying he was doing the right thing, that leaving her here wouldn’t make it worse.

Jaw clenched, he dropped to his knees and laid her gently in the arms of Mother Earth.

A single tear slid down his cheek as he pulled the blanket over her face.

“I hope your spirits will watch over you, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice thick.

“I swear on my undying love for you that if Luca Sasan is behind this, he’ll rue the day he drew his first breath. ”

Jaw clenched, Saintcrow quickly filled in the make-shift grave.

Over the centuries, he had survived numerous battles, suffered injuries that could have killed him or maimed him for life, buried a wife and a daughter, but leaving Kadie behind was the hardest thing he had ever done.