I shook him again. “Why?”
“Power stealer!” He spat again, then convulsed and lay still, captive to his horrible memories.
I would get no more information from him. I turned corporeal so that my sword would strike, then raised my blade and plunged it through his chest. As soon as my steel pierced his flesh, an icy electric shock ran up my arm from where I clutched his shoulder. The familiarity of the sensation made my stomach pitch.
This is what it had felt like to tear out the Ubilaz demon’s soul.
I lunged back from the ice demon, heart pounding.
His soul followed, clinging to my hand as a wispy white smoke.
“Shit!” I stumbled and landed on my butt on the rocks. I flung my hand out, trying to shake his soul off. It flew away, disappearing on the wind. I shook my hand, which still tingled icily, and glanced around frantically.
All the demons were dead, their bodies slowly disappearing as they returned to the Underworld. Roarke landed on the beach, his boots thudding against the rocks. His massive gray wings folded behind his back as he approached. His magic allowed him to keep his boots and pants, though his shirt always disappeared to accommodate his wings.
I scrambled to my feet, my whole body trembling. The weirdest feeling was racing through my veins. It felt like they were full of antifreeze. I shook my hands, trying to make the feeling go away.
Ice blasted from my fingertips, frosting the rocks on the beach.
I jumped, my heart in my throat. “Shit!”
Roarke’s eyes widened. “What the hell was that?” In his demon form, his voice sounded like gravel scraping together.
I stared at my hand, which looked normal. The ice in my veins had dissipated. I’d just thrown ice. Like Elsa. But I didn’t have that power, and I wasn’t about to start singing “Let It Go.”
“I have no idea.” The ground felt like it had fallen out from beneath me.
Besides being a Phantom halfbreed, I was also a FireSoul. We could steal other supernaturals’ powers, but it was an intentional thing. I’d never done it before, but my friend Cass had. When FireSouls stole a power, it was a longer process that involved pressing both hands to another supernatural’s chest as colorful flame enveloped your body. That was nothing like what had just happened with the ice demon.
Ice demon.
I turned to look at his body, which hadn’t yet disappeared. It should have by now, shouldn’t it?
“Del?” Roarke approached. “Why the hell can you suddenly throw ice?”
“Maybe I can’t.” I dragged my gaze from the demon’s body and looked at Roarke. “Maybe it was a fluke.”
“Try, then.”
I nodded. My mind raced as I tried to process what had happened.
“Do it,” Roarke said.
How though?
Try.
I closed my eyes and called upon my magic, poking around at my different gifts. I had so many new and weird talents that I was a bit of a mess when it came to using magic. But the signature of the ice burned cold inside me. It wasn’t hard to find, and it was definitely there.
I reached for it, envisioning an ice spear. I flung out my hands toward the lake. Twin icicles shot from my palms, plunging into the water like harpoons.
“Whoa.” I staggered backward. “That’s new.”
Roarke reached for my right hand, pulling it up to inspect it. I shivered at the warmth of his touch, then glanced back at the ice demon. It still hadn’t disappeared.
“What’s going on, Del?” Roarke murmured as he studied my palm.
I hadn’t yet told him I was a FireSoul. He knew I was a Phantom and had some weird power over death—two magical talents which were expressly forbidden and could get me thrown in the Prison for Magical Miscreants—but the FireSoul secret wasn’t mine alone. Since Cass and Nix were also FireSouls, I couldn’t put them at risk by revealing my secret.
And that wasn’t what had happened, anyway. I hadn’t stolen that demon’s powers with my FireSoul gift.
“I don’t know,” I said. “But we need to get out of here. I think those demons were drawn to me. We need to get back to my place where it’s safe.”
My apartment and the shop I ran with Cass and Nix were protected by charms that would keep demons out. I didn’t want to hang out here any longer.
“Fine.” Roarke started toward the ice demon’s body. “But we’re going to have to do something about this guy. He hasn’t disappeared yet. He should have.”
I glanced around. All the other bodies were gone. Whatever I’d done to him had made it so that he hadn’t returned to the Underworld. Because he no longer had his soul? I shuddered.
“Put him in the lake.” I begrudgingly pointed to the water, hating having to ask Roarke to do it. I liked to clean up my own messes. But I didn’t have a handy pair of wings.
“That’ll scare the hell out of some scuba divers.”
“It’s a mountain lake. The middle will be deeper than divers go. And the fish will eat him.” Wow, how morbid was this? I felt like a mobster, knowing just how to dispose of a body.
“Fine.” Roarke grabbed the demon by the collar and took off into the air, his powerful wings quickly carrying him to the middle of the lake. He dropped the demon and waited, no doubt watching to see if the body sank.
Some demons were denser than humans. I just hoped this one was.
By the time he returned, I was shaking from the cold.
“Did it sink?” I asked.
He nodded. “Ready to get out of here?”
“So ready.” My arm hurt like hell, and the memory of the demon spit made me want to shower even though it hadn’t landed.
I glanced at the lake where the body of the demon now rested near the wreck of the A.J. Goddard. Had this practice trip been a success?
Nope. Not really.
Sure, I’d brought the ship back. But it had all gone entirely to shit after that. Bringing the past back without being able to get rid of it was worse than not being able to bring it back at all.
“Ready?” Roarke held out a hand.
I eyed the icy water of Lake Laberge, shivering at the mere thought of it, then nodded and took his hand. He swept me up into his arms, carefully avoiding my burned arm. His muscles were tense, as if touching me were difficult for him. But my stupid heart raced as his warmth drove some of the chill from my veins. When he lunged into the sky, his wings carrying us high, it was all too easy to feel the strength of his arms.
I clung to him as he flew us out over the water. It glittered gray in the sunlight, calm once again.
One of Roarke’s badass talents as Warden of the Underworld was that he could travel through the Underpath, a network of pathways that passed through the hells, connecting different places on Earth through portals. He could most easily access the Underpath through graveyards and haunted places. The wreck of the A.J. Goddard counted as both, which was another reason we’d chosen this place to practice.
The only inconvenience was that it was underwater. Only twenty-five feet deep, but still, that was an icy twenty-five feet to the portal entrance on the boat’s deck.