“So what we’re feeling is another kind of residual. A negative energy instead of a physical form.”

Trsiel went silent, cocking his head to look at the wall, eyes narrowing as if he could invoke an Aspicio power of his own and look within.

“That can happen,” he said slowly. “And it would make sense in a place with such a violent history. Only one problem with the theory. Residual emotion only affects the living. The infamous ‘cold spot.’ Ghosts don’t feel it. Neither do angels.”

“If the Nix was here, I bet her visit had something to do with whatever is making us jumpy—whatever is on the other side of that wall.”

“There’s nothing there. I’ve been—”

“Doesn’t hurt to check again, does it?”

“It isn’t—it’s not pleasant in there, Eve. There are—”

“Skeletons, right? People die, they leave bones. Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

He opened his mouth to argue. I stepped through the wall.

Chapter 31

31

HALFWAY THROUGH THE WALL, I STOPPED, EYE TO EYE socket with a skull. With an oath, I wheeled to see a skeleton leaning against the wall, face-first, hands raised, dark brown streaks above every finger bone…as if he’d died trying to claw his way out.

I turned and saw another skeleton. And another. A half-dozen of them were propped against the wall. At the foot of that wall lay piles of bones. Splotches of dried blood streaked the brick and plaster.

Walled in.

My gaze tripped over a pile of bones in the corner, neatly disarticulated and deliberately piled, each marred with scratches. Gnaw marks.

A movement to my left—Trsiel, reaching to steady me. I shook my head and strode farther into the room. The moment I did, all thoughts of those skeletons vanished as my brain and body kicked into hyperalert mode, every muscle tensing, ears straining, gaze darting about. I definitely sensed something here. Felt it—a heavy, palpable warmth, like a dry-heat sauna.

“Was I not clear enough the first time?”

The words whipped past me on a blast of hot air. The demon-repelling spell flew to my lips, but I bit it back. This wasn’t the Nix—the voice was male, deep, and resonant. Unsettlingly hypnotic, like the angel’s…and yet not like it.

“Impertinent imp,” the voice said. “Did you think—”

The voice stopped, and a warm current caressed my face. I stood my ground, and started the spell. A low chuckle breezed by my right ear.

“That will hurt you more than it will hurt me. I see you are not the same as the first. Two demon bloods in one day. What have I done to deserve this?”

“Two?” I paused. “Someone was here earlier, someone with demon blood. A Nix.”

The voice drifted to the back of the room, as if settling onto the moth-eaten sofa there.