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With that stark order, Michael stopped just inside the door. Except for the continuing blackness of his eyes and a certain hardness around his mouth, he was almost back to normal. Which meant that he was looking tall, blond, and surfer-God gorgeous, as well as big and bad enough to take on all comers. The thought that he was choosing flight over fight in this instance was enough to make butterflies take off in big swirling waves in her stomach.
    “I can’t just go.” She snatched open the large bottom drawer of her desk where she kept her purse—actually a big black leather tote bag—and pulled it out as she spoke. Just thinking about Creason’s body being invaded by an evil spirit that she had in some part been responsible for bringing into this plane made her shiver. “You know I can’t. I have to at least try to get those spirits out of the doctor and trustee’s bodies.”
    “What, you’re wanting to play exorcist now?” Those disconcertingly black eyes practically bored a hole through her. “You said yourself that you’ve never even seen a possession.”
    He had a point, but—“There’s nobody else who can help. It’s my responsibility.”
    “Screw that. No, it’s not.”
    “I’m going to do what I can to rescue Dr. Creason and the trustee.”
    “No,” he said, like that was the last word on the subject.
    “You can’t tell me
no
.” She met his glower with one of her own as, with a triumphant flourish, she pulled the kit out of her purse.
    “I just did.” His frown darkened as he eyed the kit, then watched her unzip it. Her quick check of the contents confirmed that everything was there: the sticks of sage incense that were crucial to banishing spirits; her canister of salt—salt created a barrier that spirits were unable to cross, and she had found that loose sea salt worked best; her horseshoe—an old one, solid iron, because iron worked on spirits roughly like Kryptonite worked on Superman. Ah, and there was her jasmine candle, and the small, heavy drinking glass to cap it with, and a lighter …
    Grabbing an incense stick, she waved it at him. “Remember these? Remember how well they worked?”
    His jaw hardened. The memory of how she had driven him from this plane into Spookville in the early days of their acquaintance hung between them. He had fought with every ounce of strength he possessed, and still she had succeeded. From her perspective, that made the incense pretty powerful stuff. The fact that witnessing the pain she had caused him then had taken her to her knees and left her in tears was neither here nor there.
    One thing was certain: she wouldn’t have that reaction with whatever had taken possession of Creason and the trustee.
Those
spirits she was not going to feel the least bit sorry for.
    “You really think you’re going to wave that stinky shit at those things and they’ll just fold up and go?”
    “I think they’re going to be forced from the earthly plane. And you needn’t bother sneering at me! It worked on you, remember? And you’re not the only one, either. In fact, I’ve never had it
not
work.”
    “You ever hear
famous last words
?” Far from vanishing, the sneer grew more pronounced. He moved purposefully toward her. “Forget it. I’m not letting you do it.”
    Tucking the incense sticks back inside the bag, she curled her lip at him. “You’re ectoplasm, remember? You can’t stop me.”
    “Try me.” He walked right through her desk—he did it to underline the fact that she couldn’t get away from him, she was sure—and in response she grabbed her purse and her Miracle-Go kit and, juggling them in her arms, scooted around the side of the desk. He was between her and the door before she even realized he’d changedpositions. Damn ghosts and their ability to shift in the blink of an eye anyway!
    She stopped, glaring at him. He gave her a sardonic smile.
    “Don’t think I won’t walk right through you,” she warned. “Because I totally