“So that’s why you could exorcise the other one yourself, but not this one?”
I realized belatedly that in all the confusion, I’d never properly explained this to him. No wonder he was seeking clarification. “Yeah. Basically, it’s a power level difference. You’re aware that I’m one of about twenty mediums in the division who can exorcise?”
He gave me a proud smile. “Yeah, Beau told me.”
I preened a little under that pride. “Well, even though I can do it, I’m not always the strongest power in the room. And it does take something out of me. Escorting a cooperative spirit along is one thing. Even forcing one to manifest and pass doesn’t take much energy in comparison to exorcising something that’s fighting you. That has the power to fight back. So when we come into situations like this, I’d prefer not to. If I really was pushed, and had the time to set up a proper trap, I could probably manage. I’d have to take the following two days off and just sleep, but I could probably do it.”
“Ouch. If it would’ve been that brutal on you, I’m glad you called in Eli.”
“Yeah, she’s a much saner option.”
The walkie-talkie clipped on my belt crackled to life. “Hey, we’re tackling basement level,” Booker reported in his soft-spoken voice. “You guys okay up there?”
I put the salt bag down long enough to answer him. “Yeah, we’re about five rooms in. It’s quiet so far. I’m seeing traces of the friendly ghost here and there. What are we going to do about her?”
“Help her pass if we possibly can,” Falisa put in. “She’s probably ready to escape this crazy situation.”
“I’m with Falisa on this one,” Eli agreed promptly. “Whoever sees her, don’t hesitate. Just get her out of the line of fire.”
That was more or less what I’d expected.
I knew there to be two schools of thoughts when it came to spirits. Some people viewed them like you would a tall tale, or Bigfoot—something not really real. Even the people who believed in them didn’t really think of them as people. They were scary noises in the dark of the night, knocks and rapping, shadows. Nothing more. But then there were those who understood these were people. Without bodies, sure, but still people. I was glad to be working with mediums who understood that the ghosts were people.
A gunshot rang out, muted through the floors, but clearly audible.
Alarm shot through my spine, and I didn’t even glance at Brandon. I broke out into a sprint, heading down the stairs as quickly as I could, holding the half-empty bag of salt to my stomach as I moved.
The walkie-talkie crackled to life again. “I need a medium!”
Brandon answered, charging at my heels, “Mack’s on his way!”
I could hear the others running after us, but I didn’t look back, didn’t confer. Unease twisted my gut. Something bad had happened. I knew it to be true even if I didn’t have all the facts yet. The stairs wound down to the main floor, and I hit the tile so quickly I nearly slipped on it, my shoes not having enough tread to get traction. I grabbed the banister for balance and kept going. I almost lost my grip on the salt bag, but tenaciously clung to it with my fingers.
Even over the drumming of my heartbeat in my ears, I could hear noises from below. Two more shots rang out, then the spray of water and a screech—an ungodly sound that went high like a train whistle. Shit. They were battling that thing down there. What the hell had happened that had stopped Eli from taking care of it?
Rounding the last corner of the stairs, I took the situation in at a glance. Eli was down, her head on Booker’s shoulder, legs splayed out along the stairs in a boneless way that indicated she wasn’t conscious. Booker was hunched over her protectively even as Quinn stood over them both, firing away.
Firing at what, was the question, as the miasma was so thick down here it looked like a cave. It was pure darkness. I couldn’t make anything out ahead of me. Quinn had to be firing blind. Or maybe not, as he had goggles on.
I didn’t hesitate. This wasn’t a situation that called for calm planning. I threw myself forward, standing at Quinn’s elbow, and shook the salt out along the bottom step. “Brandon, fire water over my shoulder!”
Bless the man, he immediately did that, barely three seconds after the words tumbled free of my mouth. With that cover fire in place, I could bend and really create a solid line, giving us a barrier in the enclosed stairwell. Only with it in place did I whip out the chalk from my pocket and hastily scribbled two staying circles on either side of the wall. My fingers shook, a slight tremor, and haste made me clumsy. I forced myself to slow down enough to make the seal solid. We’d be screwed in all the wrong ways if I made a mistake here. As soon as it was in place, I activated the seal with my own power, a slap of the palm against it, then moved to the next.
Those in place, I almost called it good, but the force behind me wasn’t diminishing. If anything, the edges of the miasma seemed to seep across my salt line. That was not a good sign, to put it mildly.
I made a snap decision and turned towards Brandon. “Cher, give me a lift.”
“Hop on,” he said, patting his own back.
With the aid of the stair behind him, I did so, hopping onto his back and getting the extra two feet I needed to reach the ceiling. He put a single arm under my thighs to help hold me in position. It was awkward as hell drawing a circle overhead like this, but I managed it. As I worked, I heard Falisa and Ken conferring with Booker and Quinn.
“What the hell happened?” Falisa demanded.
“Damn thing threw a full bottle of detergent at her, hit her right in the temple,” Booker relayed, sounding both pissed and worried. “The miasma was so thick down here we were turning back, planning to lay a salt line down on the stairs and wait so all of us could tackle it. We had no sightlines. Eli didn’t have a chance before this thing ambushed her.”
I could see how it had happened. It was too damn dark to make anything out down here. “Is she alright?”
“Took a hard knock, other than that, I don’t know. She’s breathing, at least. I poured holy water on it, just in case. She’s got a split here on the temple that’s bleeding.” Booker was now more worried than pissed. “Where’s Delaney?”
“Out the front door, I booted him that direction.”
Slapping the seal active, I slid down Brandon’s back. “Merci, cher.” Turning, I took them in. Quinn was lifting Eli carefully into his arms, Booker arranging her head and supporting it as they moved. Yeah, we weren’t doing anything else tonight. “Let’s retreat for now. I’ve got this thing properly sealed. Let’s get her to the ER, call this in. Quinn, load her into the Tahoe. I know where the hospital is.”
For once, Brandon let me drive. He did keep a sharp eye on me, though, all the way to the ER doors. Ken and Falisa stayed behind to lock the building down so no one else could accidently blunder into that mess. Delaney was probably still hiding in the car, but I wasn’t about to waste energy worrying about him. Eli started to come around just as we made it to the doors, which was a good sign. Quinn and Booker carried their wife in, and that left us the lovely job of finding a parking spot in a too-small parking lot and then the even greater privilege of calling our boss.