To save her ghost-hunting career, psychic Kayde Foster must confront an evil and darkly attractive entity that has taken up residence in her uncle's business.
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Kayde prides herself on being fearless. Ghosts? Crumbling buildings? Scary legends? No...
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(OZZOL)
Kayde was the owner's niece.
So said one spirit that wanted to see Chris's failure just as much as I did. A rush of excitement and loathing burned the black blood in my veins, stirring wicked, vengeful feelings inside my chest. Oh, if I had known that a little earlier...
She might not have made it out of this place alive.
Lucky little hummingbird.
My enemy had a dear one, and I had let her waltz in here with nothing but a small warning. How foolish was I? Would she listen and never return? Or would she come right back, determined to get me out of here to save her poor uncle? Her and her little witch friend would be nothing but an annoyance. A persistent gnat buzzing around my head, if anything.
I loathed distractions.
Perhaps I should leave and find her, hunt her down, and scare the daylights out of her to make my point very clear. But she'd like that, wouldn't she? So would I, but that would only complicate matters...
What to do now?
Cast her into a horrifying realm, where her only solace is to dream of an escape? Use her as leverage against Chris and hang her from the ceiling by her pretty little toes? Or do I continue this charade and be graced with more of her furious blushes and mouth-watering screams?
So many options!
The constant clank-clack of metal racks tipping over caused mirth to lift one side of my lips. The spirits of Tales Untold were ransacking the gift shop on the first floor, destroying all the merchandise that would line Chris's pockets with cash. They, like me, wanted to be free. They, like me, did not appreciate being imprisoned.
Perhaps not so useless after all, these spirits.
Before I could inspect the chaos myself, a sharp pulling sensation tore through my chest, making me hiss. The edges of my vision faded to near black, along with a familiar and maddening voice chanting shuraa, da ura, Ozzol. Shuraa.
The voice beckoned to my soul, splitting my thoughts in two, burning my skin.
I was being summoned.
Resisting the summons would be futile, and I had to conserve my energy for my plans, but that didn't prevent me from snarling and cursing. I clawed at the wallpaper, leaving slashes as I was wrenched away from this realm, piece by violent piece. There was only one being powerful enough to summon me against my will.
My brother, the stand-in prince.Why now? I will strangle him with my tail!
"You dare summon me?" burst out of my chest in old Aezeesh, the language of the Jinn.
