Chapter Two

“You can’t break your lease, Ms. Carol. It’s impossible.”

Anna gripped her phone tighter. Over the last two weeks, she hadn’t slept, or had a moment of peace. The hauntings that had begun with Luke—who turned out to be a suicide from three years ago, and Marisol who’d died in a murder last year—had only gotten worse and worse.

“Of course, I can. Just tell me how much.”

The realtor let out a low, sinister laugh that didn’t sound like her usual high-pitched voice. “You don’t understand. You entered the agreement of your own volition. No one forced you into it. The moment you did so, you became one of ours.”

One of who? What?

“Pardon?”

“You heard me. You came to me seeking a new life. I delivered it. You have a new job and a place to live. I fulfilled our bargain. In return, you signed away your soul.”

Seriously, this had to be a joke. Was the realtor high?

“Um . . . what?”

“You heard me,” Annabeth Lawrence repeated. “Read the fine print on the contract. You came here looking to start over. I told you when I handed you the keys, and you crossed the apartment’s threshold that you would be entering a whole new life. Did you think I was kidding?”

“I assumed you were speaking metaphorically.”

“Well, you know what they say about assume. It makes an ass out of u and me.” Then, the witch had the nerve to actually hang up.

Hang up!

Demonic laughter rang through her apartment.

Unamused, Anna stood there, grinding her teeth.

Okay. I have sold my soul to the devil.

She had no response to that. Face it, it wasn’t exactly something someone dealt with every day.

At least not normal people.

“Well, it’s a good thing I come from a basket load of crazy.”

And that was being generous. Crazy had kind of looped around her family a couple of times, rebounded back, decided it really liked them, and then moved in and planted some serious roots. Then, because she was really Southern, it had remarried a few cousins, committed incest, and decided to never branch off her family tree. So, the lunacy had just quadrupled with each subsequent generation until it was no longer eccentric, it was downright felonious.

Yeah, that was her family.

And that was her insanity.

In Randolph County, Alabama, where her family hailed from, she could get someone killed for a simple keg of beer.

No questions asked.

Which was why she’d moved to Huntsville when she married. Although her ex had often claimed that three hours away just wasn’t far enough.

Sometimes, she agreed.

But right now, she needed that kind of crazy, because they were the only ones who could make this seem normal. Not to mention, they were the only ones who wouldn’t have her committed when she called them.

Anna started to dial her father, then stopped herself.

After all, she was in Satan’s apartment.

Um, yeah. She’d seen enough horror movies to know how this would play out. It always ended the same for the idiot on the phone.

Grisly death.

Usually some dismemberment.

Deciding that she liked her body parts in their current locations, Anna slid her phone into her back pocket. “I’m just going to the grocery store to get some milk. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Last thing she needed was for the entities here to think she was going to do something underhanded . . .

Like call in reinforcements.

As calmly as she could, she grabbed her keys and pocketbook, then headed for the door. “Hey, Satan? Could you turn out the lights for me? Thanks!”

She headed outside and tried not to freak over the fact that as soon she got into her Jeep, and looked back at her apartment, she saw the lights turn off.

By themselves.

Never let it be said that the devil didn’t have a wicked sense of humor.

Trying to stay calm, she quickly belted herself in and drove to the store as if all was right in the world (and her mind). Just in case she had an unseen visitor keeping her company.

She’d seen that movie, too.

Once she was inside the store and had found a place where nothing too hard or sharp could fall on her, and where she had a good line-of-sight on anyone who might get possessed and come charging after her, including devil or zombie dogs, rats or insects, she dialed her dad.

No, there’s nothing wrong with me, doctor. Really. I’ve always been a little touched.

Anne snorted at her thoughts as the phone rang.

Luckily, her father wasn’t out bowling with his buds or watching a game. He never picked up the phone on game nights.

“Hey, pumpkin pie. How’s my girl?”

“Hey, Daddy. I have a little problem.” She glanced around the store and lowered her voice so that no one could overhear her and think her nuts. ‘Cause honestly, she thought she was pretty crazy herself. “Turns out, you’ve been wrong in your sermons lately. The devil isn’t coming up in those hell-pits down in Georgia that’s been causing their interstates to rise up and buckle. He’s actually here in Richmond. Living in my apartment building.”

“Say what?”

“Uh, yeah. Apparently, I accidentally sold my soul to him when I signed my lease.”

Now most fathers would probably have committed their daughters over such a statement. At the very least, would have laughed it off, and thought it a prank.

Lucky thing for Anna, her daddy was a Southern Baptist preacher who specialized in spiritual warfare. In fact, her family came from a long, long line of men and women who were famed for scaring the devil out of generations of parishioners and farms.

Even livestock and the occasional gentleman suitor who thought to come calling on their daughters.

And one old rusted-out moonshine still from back in the days of Prohibition when it’d supposedly gotten possessed by an angry demon who was running amok in an Appalachian hill town . . . but that was another story.

The good news was that when it came to things like this, her father didn’t blink an eye.

But he did rush to action, and he always took it seriously.

“All right, baby girl. You know what to do. The cavalry’s coming. You hold tight and we’ll be there by morning.”

No words had ever sounded sweeter.

“Thank you, Daddy!” Normally, it would take about nine-and-a-half hours to make the drive from where her daddy lived in Wedowee to her apartment in Richmond. But given her dire circumstances, and her father’s propensity for ignoring the posted limitations on speed and his lack of needing to go to the bathroom on long trips, she’d expect him in about seven. Maybe six.

Her daddy was awesome that way.

And she knew he wouldn’t bother to pack. He always kept a bug-out sack of clothes and his exorcism bag in his old Army HMMWV for just such emergencies (or a zombie apocalypse, ‘cause one could never be too careful).

Yeah, Old Scratch had no idea what he was in for.

Then again, given that the devil had supposedly gone a few rounds with her father in the past, he probably did.

And for once, the demons had picked the wrong person to muck with.

Smiling, Anna started back for her Jeep in the parking lot, then remembered that she actually did need milk. Given that the devil had recently moved into her apartment, it kept spoiling on her.

By the time she returned home, Anna saw a dark figure in the driveway.

Hmm . . .

Demon or thief?

Human or ghoul?

She grabbed her Bio Freeze spray from under her seat—which was legal and more effective than pepper spray—as well as her holy water, just to cover all bases, and got out of her Jeep.

Making sure that she had her keys ready to open the front door, she headed for the stoop.

The shadow moved.

Anna lifted her arm to hose the shadow down with both bottles.

If one didn’t work, the other would.

“Whoa there, Texarkana! Not the eyes!” The tall, gorgeous woman, clad in black leather, held her arm up to shield elaborate black makeup reminiscent of Brandon Lee in The Crow, except the lines were much more deliberate and defined, and appeared to be ancient alchemy symbols. “I’m not wearing waterproof mascara. Which in retrospect was a poor life decision, given my line of work.”

Anna hesitated at the sight of this newcomer. Her straight, waist-length black hair was liberally streaked with gray, and pulled into a high ponytail. A solid black pentagram choker rested on her throat above a hematite pendulum that dangled between her ample breasts, which were barely covered by a loose fishnet top. The only thing that kept her transparent shirt from being obscene was a tight leather corset. She’d finished her bizarre outfit off with black crocheted shorts over skin-tight leather leggings and thigh high, stacked boots, along with a stylish leather coat that fell all the way to her ankles.

Yeah, they didn’t dress this way back home. Anna had never quite seen anything like this woman in her life.

But the creepiest thing . . . her eyes were stark, crystal white in the darkness.

If those weren’t theater contacts, that only left one conclusion . . .

“Are you one of my ghosts screwing with me?”

The woman snorted. “No.”

“Then why are you dressed like an eighties social reject?”

“Ow!” She bristled indignantly. “Now that’s a bit harsh, considering your father sent me here to watch over you, and help until his arrival.”

Sucking her breath in sharply, Anna cringed with regret. Apparently, she’d been hanging out with her ex too much lately and had picked up his nastier personality traits. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. But you do look like you just stepped out of the movie, The Craft.”

“First, that movie is from the nineties, and no, I don’t. For your information, I was dressing like this long before the actors who starred in it were either born or house-broken. And for what I do, this outfit works well as it tends to scare away messy little kids, gross old men, and, best of all, it hides bloodstains.” She flashed a mischievous grin. “Plus, it’s easy to clean, and it’s biodegradable.”

Not what Anna was expecting the woman to say by a long shot. And it definitely quelled any smart aleck retort she had. “Okay, then. I’m hoping you don’t mean my blood.”

“Me, too.”

Well, that wasn’t even a little comforting from where Anna was standing. “And for the record, you are?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, the woman sobered. “The Witch of Endor.”

Anna arched a brow at another thing she wasn’t expecting this stranger to say. “As in the biblical necromancer?”

Without a hint of humor, she inclined her head.

Anna was impressed, except for one thing she needed to straighten out. “I’m assuming by that, it’s a title thing. You’re not really the same woman who summoned up King Samuel. ‘Cause that would make you what . . . a billion years old?”

She smirked. “Not quite. But yeah, I’m a bit long in the tooth.”

Anna gaped at something that couldn’t be real. Or true.

“Uzarah!”

Anna froze at the deep demonic growl that echoed from her building. “What was that?”

“The demon calling my name.” She wrinkled her nose. “He and I are old friends. We basically cruised the Stone Age on dinosaurs together. Hung out. Brought down a few dynasties. Fun times.”

Clearing her throat, she glanced toward Anna’s apartment window without Anna having told her which one it was. “Achish, buddy! Are we really doing this?”

Lights exploded through the apartment building like a sped-up freaky Christmas exhibition on YouTube. A screeching howl started inside, then crescendoed louder and louder as it threatened to break windows and splinter Anna’s eardrums.

Anna covered her ears and cringed in fear.

“Don’t react to him. He’s an attention hog. Like a pesky little brother. Ignore the brat and he’ll stop.”

To prove her point, Uzarah yawned.

The moment she did, the demon screamed and manifested in front of her in all his ugly, dark blue glory. Towering over the witch, he growled with flaming scarlet eyes.

Uzarah let out another exaggerated yawn and waved her hand over her mouth. Twice.

He gestured one clawed hand toward Anna. “I own her!”

Uzarah shrugged nonchalantly. “You cheated. Like that’s anything new, right? She didn’t know she was giving up her soul. Do we really have to get lawyers involved?”

“She signed in blood!”

Arching a brow that somehow managed to question her sanity, Uzarah glanced over to Anna.

“No, I didn’t!” Anna glared between them and stood on her tiptoes to drive home her point. “I know for a fact I didn’t! I’d never do something that . . .” She froze as she remembered the pen she’d used in the realtor’s office that had been sharp. It’d cut her finger an instant before she signed her papers. “Oh wait a second. They cut my hand on the pen and told me it was defective! That was extreme cheating!”

Horrified, Anna gaped at Uzarah. “Can they really count that? It was a trick.”

With a tsk, the witch passed a sneer toward her old comrade. “Demons are crafty beasts. It’s why they call it ‘progressive entrapment.’ They pretend to be your friends. Pretend to be helpful . . . then the minute you drop your guard, they bite you on your ass. Kind of like real friends, which is why I prefer not to have any . . . and family.”

He laughed. “As I said, she’s mine!”

Anna went cold as she saw the look of resignation on Uzarah’s face.

“You’re right, Achish. There’s nothing I can do about it. But . . .”

The demon tensed. “What?”

“I am a necromancer. I can release all the other souls you’ve claimed. Bring them back from the dead and have them come at you, bruh.”

The demon’s eyes flared. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Oh yes, I would. So, you have a choice. Her soul, or all the souls you’ve claimed? Which is it?”

The contract appeared instantly in his hand, then burst into flames. “She’s free.”

“And you will leave her alone while she moves out, and make sure all of your little buddies do the same, Achish. I mean it!”

“Fine!” He vanished.

Anna was aghast. “I can’t believe it! How did you do that?” And so easily, too!

She shrugged. “A lot of centuries of negotiating. You just have to know who to call. How to hit low and with bonus points.”

“Are there a lot of you?”

Uzarah shook her head. “Not anymore, thanks to Saul and a few others who didn’t understand what we are, and why we were necessary to this world. And because of their rampant stupidity, I have to get back to my post before dawn. Give my best to your father. Tell him to finish our bargain so that your little realtor can’t run her racket on innocent people here anymore.”

“What do you mean? What racket?”

“She’s the one who was really damned. And this was how she got out of her own contract. Treacherous bitch. To save her own soul, she replaced it with those of innocent people she brought in here. Your father has to close the portal she opened in the rooms so that she can’t feed anymore lives to her demon. You need to make sure you’re not around when that happens. Last thing you want is them yanking you through one to get back at your dad.”

“You got it. Believe me, I’ve learned my lesson.”

“And that is?”

“Be careful what you ask for. You just might get it. And whenever you sign a contract, always read the fine print. You never know when the lawyers are going to suck out your soul.”