Page 72 of Hextreme Measures

“You should go with her,” Tansy interjected before Ofelia could respond. “Even if the son is in there, the two of you can easily handle them.”

“I’m looking forward to taking on the son,” Pascal agreed grimly. He shifted his eyes to Ofelia. “How about we go in together?”

Because she knew he wouldn’t abandon her to handle things on her own, Ofelia nodded. “Okay. Let’s do it together.”

Pascal stepped lightly when taking the lead up the steps. He held Ofelia back and then kicked in the door. She expected him to race inside, but he waited. That’s when she noticed there was a pulse of magic in the doorway. It flared hot and white and then died just as fast.

“What was that?” she asked, interested despite herself.

“Some sort of defensive spell,” Pascal replied. “She has magic at her disposal. It’s weak magic, though. Your theory that all the banshees who managed to maintain a sense of self were also something else, some other paranormal or witch, seems to be dead on.”

“Yes, well, I’m happy to be right.” She meant it. “I’m ready to get my fiancé, though.”

Pascal grinned. “Then let’s get him.” The vampire walked in first. He sensed rather than saw the flurry of movement in the darkness. There was someone there, coming in from his right with a stake aimed at his heart. The attempt was so clumsy that Pascal almost laughed.

He knocked the stake away — it didn’t even get close to hitting his heart — and grabbed the shadow trying to stake him by the throat. He wasn’t surprised to find Biff gurgling and kicking when he pulled him into the light.

“It seems I’ve found one of our enemies,” Pascal said with a sneer. “You’re not much of an enemy, though, are you?”

Biff’s face was red from Pascal cutting off his oxygen. He fought against the vampire’s grip, but nothing he tried would work. Pascal was too old, too powerful, for Biff to dislodge him.

“Shall I kill him?” Pascal asked.

Ofelia shook her head. “Not yet. We might need him to reason with his mother.”

“Yes, where is your mother?” Pascal asked.

Biff merely made a sputtering sound in return.

Ofelia didn’t hang around to see if he would keep fighting. She didn’t care. It was a Creole cottage. That meant it wasn’t very big. She moved from the living room long enough to look into the kitchen. It was empty. Then she headed toward the bedrooms. Only one door was shut, and that was the one she blew open with her magic. Sure, it was a bit dramatic. She didn’t care, though. She strode through the splintering wood as if in slow-motion, stirring superhero music playing in her head.

The first thing she saw was Sully in the corner of the room. He looked to have been locked away behind the wall of a magical cage. The second thing she saw was a woman, long silver hair streaming, flying at her.

Ofelia swept out her arm and used her magic to throw the woman into a wall. Shirley — because that’s who it had to be — hit hard enough to shake the drywall.

“I told you,” Sully said with a grin. “I told you she was going to be mad, but you didn’t listen. Now you’re going to pay.”

The relief Ofelia felt when looking at her almost husband was overwhelming to the point where she needed a moment to get her head together. She looked him over, making sure he was okay, then let loose a guttural sob.

“I found you.”

“I knew you would,” Sully assured her. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms. There was still work to do, though. “I never had a doubt.”

Ofelia looked over at Shirley, who was still getting her bearings, and then moved to the cell to see what she could do with the wall. It was a simple spell. Ofelia assumed Sully could have gotten beyond it if he’d felt the need. Obviously, he’d decided to wait for her instead.

She pulsed magic into it, and the wall fell. Sully lunged toward her, then stopped himself. They still had to deal with Shirley. “I’m never going to let you go once I can hold you again,” he said in a low voice.

“Soon,” Ofelia promised. She smiled at him, clenched her fingers, then turned to Shirley. “You’ve been a very bad girl.”

“The worst,” Pascal agreed as he kicked Biff, literally, into the room.

Biff hit the ground hard and groaned. He didn’t make a move to get up.

“You’d better stay down,” Pascal warned him. “I’ll make it hurt 10 times more if you try to get up.”

Biff made a noise that sounded as if it were coming from an animal and then slumped on the floor, utterly defeated.

“He wasn’t much of a foe,” Ofelia mused.