Hallowed Ground

Chapter Thirty-Two

Lilith strode to the fire and pushed the nearest of the crow men aside contemptuously. She stared down at the wretched, struggling carcass that was all that remained of their prisoner. She pulled a small pouch from the folds of her long, dark dress and teased it open. She took a pinch of powder and – blowing on it once – she sprinkled it over the fire.

The thing in the pit stiffened. Its skin crackled, grew as red as the coal feeding the flames that tormented it, and blackened. As the undead, pleading eyes stared up at her from the fire, the earthly remains of Benjamin Jamieson fell away to ash.

Seconds later, the pit was cold and dead – nothing but blackened soot remained. The woman pulled out a larger pouch, leaned down, and very carefully scooped the cinders from the pit. She let them fall through her fingers and into the pouch. When she was done, she sealed the drawstrings and touched the leather to her lips before handing it to the nearest of the crow men. It nodded, taking the pouch from her. The feathers had reformed around the wound in its face, leaving no trace of the damage caused by Creed’s lead.

"When the time is right, you will know," she told it. "You know where the weakness lies."

The bird man turned, and with a harsh cry took to the air, losing his human form in a flurry of wing beats as it blurred into the shape of a very large, very dark crow. The others followed. The woman stood for a moment, watching them depart, and then stepped back to the barrier and stared at it as though she might penetrate the shield with the force of her gaze alone.

"Soon," she said softly. "Soon all debts are paid."

Then, with a soft whisper of silk, she melted to shadow and was gone.