A Case of Possession (A Charm of Magpies, #2)

Stephen and Crane both turned. Dr. Gold stood by Leonora’s head, gripping her skull, pupils hugely distended, knuckles white. Esther held his shoulder tightly. He was perspiring. “Can’t do this—”

Stephen turned and reached out a hand towards him, and Dr. Gold took a deep shuddering breath. Crane could feel the suction in the air as the three practitioners dragged power towards themselves. Dr. Gold’s jaw was set and grim. Leonora jerked violently on the couch, and one clenching, crooked hand flew up in a clawing gesture.

“What’s happening?” Esther snapped.

“Can’t…stop it. Poison. Bloodstream. Everywhere. Too much. Hold her down,” said the doctor as Leonora’s arms suddenly flailed. Stephen leapt to one side of the couch, Crane to the other, and they each grabbed one of her wrists. Crane gritted his teeth as he struggled to keep her still, unable to believe he wasn’t hurting her.

Leonora’s cheeks and neck were swelling and shrinking, and her nose and top lip were horribly mobile, sniffing, questing.

“Anitu,” said Stephen. “Migratory possessive spirit. Is there someone in there, Dan?”

“Don’t know. Poison. She’s too weak for this. I can’t stop it.”

Crane stared up at him. He had heard so much from Stephen about Dan Gold’s skills as a healer. He had not allowed himself to think he could fail.

“Keep trying,” he snarled.

“I am. Steph, more.”

Stephen’s hands tightened on Leonora’s arm. That was all Crane allowed himself to see, then he concentrated his gaze on his own hands.

If he looked at Stephen now, he knew what the man would read in his face. He wanted to beg, to plead, to command Stephen to use the Magpie Lord’s power, right now, and save Leonora.

But he couldn’t do that. Couldn’t ask. He had no right. Stephen’s life and future depended on the secrets he had to keep. Crane couldn’t make that decision for him.

If Stephen kept his secrets, Leonora would die.

Paralysed, Stephen’s life and Leonora’s death on either side of the scale, throat thick with inexpressible rage and pain, Crane didn’t look up when Stephen said his name quietly, or when he repeated it louder. He did look up when Stephen said, “For God’s sake!” but it was too late, because Stephen had already reached over, and the scalpel he held seared across the back of Crane’s hand, opening a long cut. As Crane’s eyes flew to his face, Stephen sliced open the heel of his own hand, reached over Leo’s thrashing body again and slapped his bloody wound onto Crane’s.

“Steph!” shrieked Esther, with absolute horror.

“Hold on tight, Dan,” said Stephen calmly. His eyes met Crane’s for just a second, wide and strained with something that didn’t show in his voice, and then he drew on the power, the tingling in his hands turning to needles of hot ice that stabbed through Crane’s skin, and suddenly Stephen’s eyes were full of magpies.

Crane felt it like a wave, cresting through his body, a rush of goose pimples through muscle and organs and bone. The hair prickled on his head, and stood up visibly on Stephen’s, as his eyes flashed black, white and blue. Stephen pulled harder, lifting Crane higher, an almost orgasmic feeling of exquisite tension running through him. Esther was shouting and Leonora was wailing and Dr. Gold was grunting with agony or pleasure as Stephen lit the power in Crane’s blood into spectacular, glorious life—

—and they reached the top.

Crane blinked. He felt a strange, calm, slightly dizzy sensation, not unlike a mild opium buzz, a sense of dissociation, as though he would have to move carefully to be sure his mind didn’t leave his body behind.

Stephen’s eyes were blazing gold around huge pupils, black and white shadows fluttering and flickering. His face was very still.

Dr. Gold, by contrast, was wearing an incredulous grin.

“Oh, yes.” He swept his hands over Leonora, and the horrible thrashing stopped. “Oh, yes. Oh, this is beautiful. Let’s get you out, shall we?”

“What the devil do you think you’re doing?” His wife’s voice was shrill.

“My job, my love.” Dr. Gold smiled beatifically.

Esther turned and stalked away, arms folded, face red.

“Out you come now. Oh, this is easy, so very easy.” Dr. Gold moved a hand like a conductor and a thick brownish smoke erupted from Leonora’s wounds, eyes and mouth, pouring into the air and evaporating on the instant. “Out, out, out, gone. There. Dear me, what was all the fuss about? And now, let’s fix this lady up.” He looked down at Leonora’s face and put both hands over it. One deep breath, then his head snapped back, mouth open ecstatically. The air around his hands was thick and viscous.

Crane glanced at Stephen, who was looking down at Leonora, face unreadable. His hand lay on Crane’s, over her body. He was wearing the Magpie Lord’s ring on his finger. Usually he kept it on a chain round his neck, to avoid the ancient carved gold attracting attention. It was too late for that now.

K.J. Charles's books