Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 131708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
He cleared his throat. “I’m Mr. Mills.”
She’d suspected as much, given how haggard the poor guy looked. Any father in his position would be so haggard. “I’m Ella Wilde,” she said, holding out her hand. “I believe you’re expecting me.”
He gave a slow nod as he briefly shook her hand in an absent manner. “Thank you for coming.” Stepping aside, he waved her into the house.
She accepted his silent invitation, and he then closed the door. Her inner entity eyeballed their surroundings, hypervigilant as ever.
He scrubbed a hand down his pale, drawn face that hadn’t seen a razor in several days. “I, we, it … Neve, a friend of my wife, told me you could fix this. Fix my daughter.”
“I can,” Ella assured him.
A local practitioner, Neve knew much about all things that went bump in the night. She was talented at her craft, but she couldn’t work the sort of magick that would aid this family. Not like Ella, who was an incantor—a breed of demon that could wield magick.
So, whenever Neve came across a situation that she felt required demonic intervention, she contacted Ella, who consulted for many people. Neve had told her all about Annmarie and Edgar Mills, as well as their daughter.
He looked at the ceiling. “Malia’s … I don’t know what’s wrong with her. I don’t know—” He cut himself off and pinched a nose that had clearly once been broken. “I wanted to call a doctor here, but my wife begged me to try something else first.” He let his arm fall back to his side. “She’s afraid our daughter would be hospitalized.”
That wasn’t a senseless concern. Such a thing had happened to humans in Malia’s present condition. “I can help your daughter, if you’ll let me. But if you would rather seek medical help, I completely understand. It’s your choice.”
He carved his fingers through his tousled chestnut hair, his hesitation clear. Finally, he sighed and said, “Malia’s in her bedroom.”
Ella followed him as he trudged up the stairs, exhaustion in his every step. She ran her gaze along the framed pictures mounted on the wall. Some featured he and a woman, who was presumably his wife. Others featured a girl who could only be Malia at varying ages. Many were of the entire family—posing, smiling, laughing.
It made her think of the wall of her mother’s staircase—there was an overabundance of pictures of Ella, her older sister Mia, and their parents. Well … their idiot-for-a-father’s body could be seen. Their mother had covered his face with those of various male celebrities that she’d cut out of magazines. Something that still made Ella smile.
“Neve said you’re a kind of psychic,” said Edgar as they reached the top of the stairs.
Uh, not even close. But the truth wasn’t something that Ella could share. “In a manner of speaking,” she lied.
The snick of a lock sounded at the other end of the hallway. She looked to see the dark-haired, middle-aged woman from the framed pictures stepping out of a room.
“I don’t believe in psychics,” said Edgar, drawing Ella’s attention back to him. “I don’t believe in God or the devil or heaven or hell.” A heavy sigh slipped out of him and pulled down his shoulders. “Or I didn’t, until now,” he added in defeat, his voice breaking.
Her heart squeezed in sympathy. She didn’t get the chance to respond, because he immediately began making his way to his wife. Ella trailed after him and gave the woman a soft smile. “You must be Annmarie. I’m Ella.”
Her arms filled with soiled blankets, Annmarie swallowed hard. “I appreciate you coming.” Looking as drained and weary as her husband, she cast the bedroom door a quick glance. “She’s in bed. But awake. We had to cuff her to the bedframe so she couldn’t hurt herself anymore.” A shaky breath left her. “What is it you’re going to do?”
Ella pinned her with a sober look. “No harm will come to your daughter at my hands.”
Annmarie’s hazel eyes went wet and glassy. “She’s only thirteen. I know it was stupid of her and her friends to fool around with a spirit board, but—” She stopped as tears trailed down her cheeks. “Neve said you had experience at this. Can you really help Malia?”
“Yes, I can. And I will,” Ella swore. “You should both wait out here.”
Her brow dented. “Won’t it be dangerous for you to go in there alone? Neve said you wouldn’t need the aid of a priest, but I thought you’d have someone with you. Perhaps a nun or spiritual practitioner of a sort.”
Ella felt her nose wrinkle. “Exorcisms don’t always happen the way they do in movies.” Technically, what she was about to do wouldn’t be an exorcism; it would involve a little magick. She couldn’t explain that to humans, however. “It’ll work better if I’m alone.”