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spiritual dagger.
    “Purty,” she whispered in awe, gaze fixed to the small shell in his hand.
    He glanced at his hand and smiled. When not extended, the dagger was curled on itself like a small twinkling seashell. He flicked his hand once and the dagger extended to its full length, a spark of light pulsed through it. Its sharp tip would not break skin unless he stabbed a host who had bonded with the spirit possessing him or her. Its usual use was to break through the chakra in the middle of a host’s forehead to allow Luke the opportunity to inhale the spirit out of the body.
    “Whoa! Not purty anymore,” Pru said, drawing away from him. “What do you think you’re going to do with that?” Her gaze shifted to the woman. “Oh, no. You’re not gonna cap her off.”
    Luke called on the Spirit Within him to take over and pale his appearance. Pru’s jaw dropped open, fear evident in her gaze. “What are you?” Without waiting for an answer she glanced around, yelling, “Help! Anybody. This guy is an assassin.”
    Luke smirked. Good luck with that, he thought.
    He slunk to the edge of the seat and leaned forward, one hand poised to touch the woman’s neck, to turn her swiftly to him.
    Pru uttered an ear-shattering shriek and leapt at him, or rather through him. The heat of her immersion in him flared every nerve end in his body. He experienced sunshine, spring breeze, and warmth radiating from his skin—unlike what he usually felt while inhaling a spirit. They were badly timed pleasant emotions.
    He yelled at her, “Don’t do that.”
    The possessed woman swiveled about and froze at the sight of the dagger hoisted in the air above her. Her gaze flicked to his paled appearance and she shot to her feet, following Pru’s shriek with one of her own. This one was heard. Even though the theater’s lights were dimmed, Luke was facing the bright screen. Hurriedly, he switched on his shifting power, which rendered his face vibratory, allowing no clear grasp of his features.
    Luke ignored Pru—now face down on the seat beside him—and dashed to the exit. The movie was stopped, lights were coming on, and some of the other cinemagoers were drifting to the woman while others, like the teenage girls, huddled together.
    He waited at one corner of the cinema, hoping to catch the woman on her way home. Instead, he witnessed the arrival of a police car.
    “Brilliant!”
    It wasn’t a total loss. The woman frequented the same gym he did, a second meeting was possible.
    Pru, however, had proved to be a difficult companion. Her clear thinking during her teen years had turned to soft feminine impulses that affected his work. Luke scrubbed a hand down his face.
    What happened? Celestine asked.
    “Pru, our friendly ghost, has screwed up an extraction. She couldn’t handle the sight of my dagger.” He didn’t bother with telepathy. He needed the bitterness he felt to seep through every word.
    “Who were you going to exorcise?”
    “That one.” Luke pointed at the woman about to get in the police car.
    Celestine was silent for a while. “Is she possessed?”
    Luke shrugged. “She doesn’t have a healthy red aura. Anything beside that isn’t good. Right?”
    “I do not know.”
    From the corner of his eye, Luke caught Pru’s spirit start out of the cinema in the opposite direction, her demeanor desolate.

Chapter Seven
    While roving the quiet street, Pru kicked a crinkled aluminum foil. It didn’t budge, of course. She grumbled under her breath, “Stupid ball.” Lifting her head to the sky, she screamed, “Stupid man!”
    Luke was about to kill that woman with the conviction that he was helping her. He was delusional, a murderer, and a crazy one to boot.
    That was it. She’d made up her mind to stop following him around. So what if he had the most beautiful one-dimpled smile that crinkled his eyes at the corners and transformed his whole expression? That rugged handsomeness shouldn’t be allowed on a killer’s