Finale

toward her naturally.
You’ll get sucked into her body so fast you’ll hardly notice the transition. Next thing you know, you’ll be in control.”
    “She’s so young.”
    “Don’t let that fool you. She’s as cunning and dangerous as the rest of them. Here—I brought you a special dose of devilcraft that will make your first go at it
easier.”
    I didn’t reach for the vial right away. My fingers tingled with desire, but I kept them at my sides. I’d taken so much devilcraft already. I’d promised myself I’d stop,
and that I’d come clean with Patch. So far, I’d done neither.
    I glanced at the vial of gleaming blue liquid, and a fierce hunger seemed to gnaw through my stomach. I didn’t want the devilcraft, and at the same time, I desperately needed it. My head
spun, growing dizzy without it. Taking a little more couldn’t be that harmful. Before I could stop myself, I reached out and accepted the vial. Already my mouth salivated. “Should I
drink the whole thing?”
    “Yes.”
    I tossed the vial back, the devilcraft burning like poison down my throat. I coughed and sputtered, wishing Blakely could devise a way to make it taste better. It would be equally helpful if he
could minimize the negative side effects. Immediately after drinking this dose, a headache spiked into my skull. Experience told me it would only worsen as the day wore on.
    “Ready?” Dante asked.
    I wasn’t quick to give my nod of affirmation. To say I had little desire to possess the girl was an understatement. I’d been possessed once before—by Patch, in a desperate move
to save me from being slain by Chauncey Langeais, a long-lost relative who had no familial affection for me. While I was glad Patch had tried to protect me, the violation I’d felt while being
possessed wasn’t something I wanted to experience again. Or put someone else through.
    My eyes swept over the girl. She’d suffered through this hundreds of times before. And here I was, about to make her do it all over again.
    “Ready,” I said heavily at last.
    Dante plucked the rod from the girl’s wing scars, careful to keep his hands off the blue-glowing lower half. “Any second now,” he murmured in warning. “Get ready. Her
thoughts will give off magnetic impulses; as soon as you feel mental activity, get inside her head. Don’t waste any time convincing her she wants you to possess her.”
    Silence hung in the woods, thick and tense. I took a step closer to the girl, straining to pick up any mental feedback. Dante’s knees were bent, as if he expected to have to jump to action
at any moment. A crow’s sharp caw carried across the dark expanse above. A faint bleep of energy landed on my radar, and that was all the warning I got before the girl launched herself at me,
teeth bared and fingernails scratching like a wild animal.
    We smacked back against the dirt together. My reflexes were sharper, and I rolled on top of her. I lunged for her wrists, hoping to pin them above her head, but she bucked me off in a single
spurt of athleticism. I skidded over the dirt, hearing her land agilely a few feet away. I looked up just in time to see her spring into the air, soaring toward me.
    Tucking into a ball, I rolled out of her range.
    “Now!” Dante boomed. From the corner of my eye, I saw him holding the rod up, readying himself to attack the girl if I failed.
    I shut my eyes, homing in on her thoughts. I could feel them zooming this way and that, like frantic insects. I dove into her head, shredding everything I came across. I tangled her thoughts
into one giant mass and whispered a hypnotic,
Let me in, let me in now
.
    Much faster than I expected, the girl’s defenses sagged. Just as Dante had predicted, I felt myself gliding toward her, like my soul was being reeled in by a powerful force field. She
offered no resistance. The sensation had a dreamlike quality; woozy and slippery, and blurred at the edges. There was no defining moment when I felt the change; I merely blinked and found myself
viewing the world from a different angle.
    I was inside her, body, mind, and soul, possessing her.
    “Nora?” Dante asked, squinting at me skeptically.
    “I’m in.” My voice startled me; I’d commanded the response, but it had come out in her voice. Higher and sweeter than I would have expected from a fallen angel. Then
again, she was so young. . . .
    “Do you feel any resistance? Any backlash from her at all?” Dante asked.
    This time I