Finale

That, and it was Cheshvan. The only month when possession of another body was possible.
    Footsteps rang out behind us, and even in the darkness, I saw Blakely’s eyes harden. He lunged for me without warning. He moved so fast, I didn’t have time to react. He spun me
against him, holding me to his chest. Patch appeared ahead, but slowed when he saw me standing backed up against Marcie.
    “What’s going on, Angel?” he asked, low and uncertain.
    “Don’t say a word,” Blakely hissed in my ear.
    Tears glistened in my eyes. Blakely was using one arm to pin me, but the other held a blade, and I felt it bite into my skin, a few inches above my hip.
    “Not a single word,” Blakely repeated, his breath ruffling my hair.
    Patch came to a stop, and I could see confusion written all over his face. He knew something was wrong, but he couldn’t figure out what. He knew I was stronger than Marcie and could break
free if I wanted.
    “Let Nora go,” Patch told Marcie, his voice quiet, wary.
    “Don’t come another step,” Blakely commanded Patch, only this time he made his voice sound like Marcie’s. High and quivering. “I have a knife, and I’ll use it
if I have to.” Blakely waved the knife to make his point.
    Devilcraft,
Patch spoke to my mind.
I feel it everywhere.
    Be careful! Blakely is possessing Marcie’s body,
I tried to tell him, but my thoughts were blocked. Somehow Blakely was shielding them. I felt them bounce back, as though I were
yelling at a wall. He seemed to have complete and utter control over devilcraft, using it like an unstoppable and highly adaptive weapon.
    From the corner of my eye, I saw Blakely hold up the knife. The blade glowed an ethereal shade of blue. Before I could blink, he plunged the knife into my side, and it was as though I’d
been pushed into a raging furnace.
    I collapsed, trying to howl and scream in pain, but too much in shock to manage a single sound. I writhed on the ground, wanting to pull out the knife, but every muscle in my body was in shock,
paralyzed in unspeakable agony.
    The next thing I knew, Patch was at my side, uttering a litany of curses, fear sharpening his voice. He tugged out the knife. Now I screamed, the sound shattering out from deep within. I heard
Patch shouting directives, but the words snapped in two, insignificant next to the pain torturing every corner of my body. I was on fire, the flames licking me from the inside out. The heat was so
intense, great convulsive shudders made me twitch and flail against my will.
    Patch scooped me into his arms. I vaguely noted that he was sprinting out of the breezeway. The sound of his footsteps echoing off the walls was the last thing I heard.

C HAPTER

14
    I WOKE WITH A START, INSTANTLY TRYING TO GET MY bearings. I was in a vaguely familiar bed, in a dark room that smelled
warm and earthy. A body was stretched out beside mine, and it stirred.
    “Angel?”
    “I’m awake,” I said, a flood of relief welling up inside me now that I knew Patch was close. I didn’t know how long I’d been out, but I felt safe here in his home,
with him watching over me. “Blakely was possessing Marcie’s body. I didn’t sense him and walked right up to him without the slightest clue it was a trap. I tried to warn you, but
Blakely had me in some kind of bubble—my mind-speak kept bouncing back.”
    Patch nodded, coaxing a stray curl behind my ear. “I saw him exit Marcie’s body and run. Marcie’s okay. Shaken up, but fine.”
    “Why did he have to stab me?” I grimaced in pain as I lifted my sweater to see the wound. My Nephilim blood should have healed me by now, but the stab was still fresh, casting a
bluish hue.
    “He knew if you were hurt, I’d stay by your side instead of going after him. A move that’s going to cost him,” Patch said, his jaw rigid. “When I brought you here,
your entire body was radiating blue light, head to toe. You appeared to be in a coma. I couldn’t reach you, even through mind-speak, and it terrified me.” Patch pulled me against him,
curling his body protectively around mine, holding me almost too tight, and that’s when I knew just how worried he was.
    “What does this mean for me?”
    “I don’t know. It can’t be good that you’ve had devilcraft forced into your body twice now.”
    “Dante is drinking it daily.” If he was okay, I’d be okay too. Wouldn’t I? I wanted to believe it.
    Patch said nothing, but I had a good idea where his thoughts