"Claire?"
The only answer Alex got was a loud thud, as if the table had been shoved against the wall. As she sprinted to the living area, calling her niece out loud, she sensed the sudden drop of the temperature in the room.
"Claire!"
The girl's cry filled the dark room. In the dim glow coming from the parking lot, Alex saw Claire curling up on the floor against the fridge, arms up to shield her head. Beth Campbell's ghost was in front of her, reaching out and trying to grasp her throat.
Alex didn't stop to think. She just let her protective instincts kick in to join all Old Bootter had taught her many years before. In a single move, she snatched a poker from the fake fireplace and swung it at the ghost. It vanished in touch with the iron. She hurried to help Claire up to her feet.
"You okay, kiddo?"
Claire managed a nod, terrified eyes darting around. Alex grabbed the salt can from the cupboard and used it to draw a circle on the floor around the girl's feet.
"Stay inside the circle no matter what, got it?"
Beth's ghost appeared again before Claire could answer. Alex hit it with the poker and it vanished, only to show up a step away to their left. It flickered in and out of sight, showing up at different spots, shoving furniture around with furious shrieks every time it failed to catch Claire.
Alex kept swinging the poker until the ghost gripped her arms, sinking its rotten nails in her flesh. She felt the burning pain as they sliced her flesh, but Claire's muffled cries behind her made her ignore the pain and the blood running underneath the sleeves of her flannel.
Trying to yank Alex away from Claire, the ghost stepped on the salt. Beth's rotten nails got to scratch the girl's face before the salt forced it back. Alex tried to retrieve the poker, but the ghost charged again, and this time it grabbed her by the throat. She squirmed to escape the mortal clutch, choking.
Right when she felt she was passing out, the door slammed open and a loud shot ran in the room.
The ghost disappeared and Alex fell to her knees, coughing and gasping for air. Her blurry eyes recognized the figure at the doorway: Aidan, shotgun still to his face. Mark stormed in, bringing a large can of salt.
"Mark!" she called hoarsely. "Take care of Claire!"
The boy hurried to their side and helped her up. While Aidan poured salt across the doorway and on the windowpane, Alex used her phone's flashlight to find the book. The glass bowl was shattered to pieces near the wall, its contents scattered around, mixed with glass splinters. But she was managed to find the bag Claire had gotten to fill with the second set of ingredients.
"Can you read the Latin part?" she asked, handing the book over to Mark.
The boy read in a clear, fluent Latin that didn't surprise her, as she hurried to the kitchen counter with the small bag. Aidan grabbed his shotgun again and came to stand by her side, scanning the room for the slightest sign of the ghost.
Alex emptied the small bag into another bowl, forcing herself to keep from looking at Claire. The girl had curled up on the floor against the fridge again, crying quietly. Alex set her jaw and rolled up one of her sleeves, letting her blood drip on the ingredients. The book said nothing about needing blood for the spell, but she knew it would make it stronger. Aidan gave her a strip of matches before she even needed to ask.
Mark kept repeating the spell while the ingredients burned in the bowl, filling the room with a smell of spices. The other three held their breath, waiting for the mix to burn to ashes and set the spell in motion.
The last tiny bit of it burned out, and a heartbeat later, the lights flickered and came back on. They kept flickering for another moment, until they stayed steadily on. Corbans and Holsters sighed in relief.
Only then did the brothers see the mess in the room. The fallen furniture piled up, the paintings on the wall ripped apart, all the decoration broken. And the Corbans didn't look any better. Blood dripped down Claire's cheek and her top was almost sliced open. Alex had taken the worst part: her face and her neck were bruised, and her arms still bled from the lacerations that stretched from her shoulders to her elbows.
"Jesus, Princess! How come you get in trouble the minute I turn my back on you?"
Alex flashed a weary smile, appreciating Aidan's tease to lighten the moment.
"Yeah. Looks like I can't live without you, Aidan-Knight. Thanks for coming to the rescue again."
"My pleasure. Now you owe me."
Mark helped Claire up and hurried across the room to lift the overturned couch. The girl let him guide her to it and sat down, her eyes moving around in shock. A moment later, she let out a suffocated cry and hid her face in her hands, unable to hold back her tears any longer. Mark sat down by her side and rubbed her back gently without a word.
Alex took a step toward the couch, but Aidan stopped her.
"Let them be, Princess. Come, you need some patching up and I've got a first-aid kit in my-" He saw Alex's warning glance and scowled. "In my car."
She was too shaken and sore to argue, so she just followed Aidan out, trusting Mark was in better shape to look after Claire.
At the parking lot, Aidan grabbed the first-aid kit from the backseat of the Challenger and settled it on the trunk, making Alex rest against it. He wetted cotton in alcohol, grabbed her chin and lifted it up, leaning in closer. He paused with his face inches away from hers.
"Don't give me that look," he grumbled. "You've got blood on your neck and I see shit out here. So it's this or my room."
Alex rolled her eyes, huffing.
He let out a dry scoff. "Thought so."
She stood still, bearing burn and pinpricks. But she had to admit Aidan knew what he was doing. He only took a few minutes to wipe the blood away, clean cuts and scratches, and wrap her arms in neat, tight dressings.
"I'm gonna need some tattoos to hide the scars," she said.
"I can give you some cool designs," Aidan said, undoing a couple of buttons to open his flannel over his chest. Alex saw the small circle of tiny symbols on his heart. "See? No demon can possess you with this."
"Nice," she muttered. Demons! The brothers' life had to suck if they needed protection against such heinous creatures around the clock.
"We should prep up for the rest of the night," he said. "It's the second night after the first murder, and the Campbells may try to get Claire again."
Alex turned to her room and grimaced. "I hate bursting their bubble."
"Yeah, well, boohoo. Come, Princess."
Alex refused to walk in before knocking. Mark opened the door wide, agitated. Alex and Aidan hesitated and the boy left them at the doorway to resume what he was doing. The other two traded a look, swallowing their laughter. Because Mark was busy pushing the furniture back in place while Claire mopped the floor.
Aidan strode in up to the table. "Alright, guys, who's taking the first watch?"
"I am," Mark replied.
"Good, I'm next." Aidan turned to Alex. "Where can I crash, Princess?"
Claire saw Alex's frown and anticipated her. "Take my bed. It's the one on the left."
Aidan smiled at her and winked at Alex. "Don't take long, hun."
Alex snorted, making Claire and Mark giggle. She approached the girl to check her bruised cheek.
"I'm fine, Al. Go to sleep," the girl said.
"And give you two some privacy?"
To Alex's surprise, Claire laughed instead of blushing. What was she missing?
"Go to sleep, Al. Trust me, I'll be fine," Claire repeated with a warm smile.
She waited to see Alex head to the bedroom area and joined Mark by the kitchen corner. They were filling the coffeemaker when they heard Alex's annoyed bark.
"Outta my bed!"
They muffled their chuckles, hearing Aidan's trademark smug tone to reply, "Sorry, this one's better." And add a moment later, "You're taking the other? Your loss."
"Jesus! You are such an asshole."
"Right as you like me, Princess."
"Shut up already."