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repellent he knew, starting with those for demons and ending with spells meant to banish zombies. His shouts and her chants blended, filling the room with a strange music. Chiana clung to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders. His skin burned where they touched, and his voice grew hoarse as he fought to keep the intruders at bay. Then, as abruptly as it began, it was over.
    Chiana fainted, her face pale and her body limp and cooling in Creed’s arms. The undamaged emergency light shone again, and the water stopped running.
    Creed held her until her breathing changed to sleep once more, and he placed her on the bunk. His throat raw, he slipped away and staggered to a chair.
    He’d come here for one more assignment. A few more dollars to be sent and never spent, a few hours or days of atonement. Now he wondered if he’d survive with both his sanity and soul intact.

 
     
     
     
    Chapter Five
     
     
    Leaning back in the chair, Creed closed his eyes and emptied his mind. He’d learned this trick early on as his way of being able to do what he did day after day, year after year. When he’d banished the events of the past hour to the back of his mind, he opened his eyes and sought his smart phone. Before he logged on, it began to ring. He answered fast, hoping it wasn’t a voice from hell on the other end.
    “We’re out.”
    Mick. He sounded sullen, tense, pissed at being sent away, but his voice was still welcome. Creed let out the breath caught in his lungs.
    “Good,” he said.
    “The doc’s on his laptop. Says he needs to talk to you.”
    “Tell me something good,” Creed suggested when he heard Wil’s voice. That was the last he spoke for nearly five minutes, listening as the researcher explained he might have a solution that would let both Creed and Chiana leave the safe house alive and intact.
    “A Sumerian binding spell, huh?”
    Although Creed tried to hide his skepticism, he knew Wil had caught it.
    “Didn’t I just say it was a last resort?” Wil asked. “Unless my friend and I are both wrong, things will escalate at a rapid pace. She’s already tried sexual enticement to allow her to take control and set herself free. The next step will be rage.”
    “And after that?”
    “It doesn’t matter. I doubt even you can survive her anger.”
    A sudden silence and Wil was gone. The call had dropped, which was fine with Creed. He didn’t care much for conversation. With a quick glance to make sure Chiana still slept, he returned to the small utility room and logged onto his e-mail.
    The message from Wil was already there. They must have pulled off someplace with wireless internet.
    He studied the e-mail, memorizing the words. The chant was short, with a rhythmic flow, which made the task easier. Creed hoped he wouldn’t have to use it. He prayed that if he did, it would work.
    “Hey.”
    He raised his head, killing the e-mail as he did. Chiana stood in the doorway, her pants back on and her shirt pulled down. Normal again, or at least passing for it.
    “Have a nice nap?” Creed shut down the computer and headed out of the office as Chiana moved toward the coffee pot.
    She shrugged and ignored him as he walked up with his own cup. Attitude was good. It fit the profile of her he’d read.
    She sat down at the table, cradling the mug but not drinking.
    “What happened to me?” she asked.
    “Don’t know exactly.” Creed leaned against the counter. “Best way I can explain it was like a cat going into heat. You had some sort of hormone flare and starting putting out fuck-me vibes.”
    “Oh.”
    “Which is why the doc socked you full of sedatives and took off with your buddy.”
    “Did you…”
    “Take you up on the invitation? No. I’ve got this thing about screwing strangers in dumps like this.”
    He forced a smile with the last sentence, hoping to reassure her. He could tell by the way her hands tightened on her cup that he hadn’t.
    Out of words, like she seemed to be out of