Sharon Ashwood - Ravenous

"Why?"

"So that I can rap their knuckles. Someone trashed a client's warehouse. He suspects sabotage. I found the remains of a ritual circle."

Holly folded her arms. "Wait a minute. Property damage? From a summoning spell?"

"Depends on what you summon."

"Oh. Right." Holly considered. "I can do it, as long as no one's tried to cover up the evidence. Shielding spells are something else."

"Too hard to move?"

"I'm all about the small-M, bread-and-butter magic. I banish ghosts and find lost property. Magic with a big, bold capital M—necromancy and the like—is outside my usual sandbox."

He looked hopeful. "Then you'll take a look? As a favor?"

"Absolutely. As you know, magic is always fun until your head blows up," Holly said, only half joking. Her last trip into big-M territory had left her power handicapped, almost like a quarterback who had blown a knee.

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome. Anyway, I'm ready to get started."

Holly wiped her sweating palms on her jeans. As usual, she had preperformance butterflies.

Alessandro pushed the gate open with his foot. The old iron hinges gave a wheezing squeak. They both paused, waiting for a reaction. The house was still and silent.

Vampires didn't need an invitation to enter a derelict property. Alessandro stepped through the gate, his posture poised and alert. She watched him move, pale hair swinging with the glide of his body. She followed, searching with her psychic senses. If Alessandro was ready for corporeal enemies, she could take care of the rest.

Holly felt the presence of the house ahead, curled like an animal waiting to pounce—not exactly patient, but willing to let them make the approach. "This house isn't almost sentient," she said in a low voice. "It's fully aware."

Alessandro didn't look back. "I suppose that makes this a fair fight."

"Good to stay positive," Holly replied dryly. "Me, I like my evil entities stupid."

Half-buried paving stones zigzagged to the porch. Fronds of grass brushed her ankles, grit and moss making her soles slide with a wet, crunching noise that did nothing for her nerves. She could smell rotted fruit from beneath the apple and pear trees that filled the corners of the lot. No one had picked up the windfalls.

They were nearly to the porch before the house stirred, a whisper that sounded through the grass and leaves. Why are you bringing the dead to my doorway? Send the vampire away. I cannot use him .

"Precisely," Holly replied under her breath. Vampires were the perfect backup. Nothing ever wanted to eat them.

The ground rumbled, a quick, irritated shake.

Alessandro was instantly at her side. "What was that?"

"It knows we're coming." Holly craned her neck, studying the scrollwork framing the porch. There were protective sigils carved into the crumbling wood, but the magic had long since faded away.

Alessandro looked at her expectantly.

"It's safe," she said. "Safe-ish, anyway."

With a rustle of leather, Alessandro mounted the porch, a tall, broad shadow in the darkness. He pulled a slender black flashlight out of his pocket. He didn't really require it, but the extra light helped Holly. "Do you have the key?" he asked.

"We won't need it. It wants me to come in." She joined him on the porch, her footfalls human-loud.

Yes, come in, come in . She felt an impatient tugging, as if someone had her by the front of her jacket. Holly braced against it, but a sudden jerk made her stumble forward.

Alessandro caught her, strong hands pulling her against his side. Her shoulder collided with hard muscle, the cold metal of his coat buttons scraping against her cheek. He held her still for a moment, giving her time to find her feet.

"It thinks I'm literally a pushover." A hot thread of anger wound through her gut.

"It hasn't seen you push back."

Come in, come in, come in . The words came from all sides, from inside her head and out. The voice split into a thousand different pairs of lips, a whispered chaos sipping at Holly's strength of mind. Meaning splintered, all logic crumbling apart.

Holly gripped Alessandro's arm, using the solid feel of him as a focus. Taking a long breath, she clenched her jaw, summoning the anger simmering just below her thoughts. The shards of her will drew together, pushing the invading, sibilant chorus away.

Back off. I have six people to find. Six souls. Six lost ones.

No. They're mine.

Think again, Demolition Sale. You don't get to chow down on your playdates.

Then come in, little one, and stop me. I invite you. I dare you.

The door rattled, the sudden loud sound making Holly's skin crawl. Reluctantly she pulled away from Alessandro as he flicked on his flashlight, shining it on the lock. As she watched, the ornate handle turned, the paneled door sailing open and releasing a stale gust of wood rot and paint thinner. The entryway gaped, empty and dark.

Whispers swirled in the darkness, imitating the motes of dust dancing in the beam of the flashlight. Her stomach cold, Holly stepped over the threshold. The house's energy pressed in on her, a sinister brush of wings over her face and hands.

She thumbed on her own flashlight. The beam caught Alessandro's eyes, and they flared the radiant yellow of a cat's. Predator .

At the sight of those eyes, Holly jumped. She couldn't help herself. Instinct made her heart speed. He lifted his chin, nostrils flaring. Could he smell the quickening of her pulse? The sour tang of nerves?

Always interesting when your coworker counts you as a food group , Holly thought to herself. In the time they'd worked together he'd never given her cause to worry, but that faint whiff of doubt never went away, either.

"Where do you want to start?" he asked, the question reassuringly mundane. He flipped a light switch on and off, confirming that the power was out. The house was oddly quiet. Whatever magic had cut the electricity also muffled any outside noise.

Holly shone her light to the left. The beam showed a room that would probably have been the parlor. Holly walked forward, playing the light from side to side. The ceiling was high, a threadwork of cracks showing in the vaulted plaster. It was the kind of space that could have comfortably held plush, overstuffed Victorian furniture. Now the room was empty except for a cluster of paint cans and dirty rags, the source of the pervasive chemical smell.

Holly slowed her steps, slotting pieces of her plan together. "By the feel of this place, it's not going down without a fight. Once we find the six victims and get them out of here, I'll try to neutralize the house by breaking the original sentience spells. If that doesn't work, I may be calling the fire department for a more dramatic solution."

Something moved in the consciousness of the house, almost as though it flinched.

Alessandro nodded. "Start with a room-by-room for the missing students?"

"Yeah, visual sweep first." She glanced around, reminding herself to watch for floating or falling objects. The house could fight with anything, and probably would before the night was over. With the beam of her flashlight arcing from side to side, Holly moved through the parlor, Alessandro at her elbow.

Someone had left a bagel wrapped in a Campus Joe's napkin and a newspaper. Alessandro picked up the top section of the paper. "It's today's."

"Must have belonged to one of the profs who came in this morning." Holly skimmed the headlines, irresistibly drawn by the heavy black type.

Pit Bull Eats Zombie: Murderer or Scavenger?

Can the Canucks Get Back-to-back Wins with the Oilers on the Road?

New Rooftop Vagrancy Law Makes Gargoyles Homeless in Richmond.