Bella raised a hand to motion for quiet, then began to murmur words of thanks to each entity she’d called forth. Badb, a crone goddess. Anubis, a death god. Hades, lord of the dead. Lucifer, God’s fallen. Satan, if I remembered my Catholic upbringing correctly. I couldn’t see how he would be on our side, if the stories were true. The hair stood up on the back of my neck. I tried to reason with myself that I shouldn’t fear the beings she’d invited in. For all intents and purposes, I was dead myself. Still, I couldn’t ignore the malevolent cloud that seemed to surround me. I imagined a million fingers of darkness closing around my throat, crushing my windpipe, severing arteries. I imagined Cyrus’s claws slitting my throat in the hospital morgue six months earlier. And I wanted to run.

Max appeared uncomfortable, as well. He clenched his shoulders as if he wanted to rub the back of his neck, but couldn’t, as both his hands were occupied. Nathan began to stir, one long leg sliding from beneath the sheets to drape over the side of the bed. He mumbled something, his voice gaining volume as his struggles continued. Only when he was thrashing and shouting did I recognize what he said. It was the prayer to the Archangel Michael.

“How are they gonna like that?” Max whispered, as though the deities surrounding us wouldn’t be able to hear him.

“He is crazed,” Bella reminded Max, or maybe the spirits. “He does not mean to offend.” She raised her voice over Nathan’s fervent prayer. “We humbly beg the release of the soul of Marianne Galbraith, soul-bound through the sacrament of marriage to this man.”

A chill knife went through my heart at her words. Soul bound. It seemed so much stronger than blood tied. If my heart was destroyed, there would be nothing left binding me to Nathan. Marianne had been gone for years, but her bond with him was still strong enough to control his mind. Strong enough to call her back from the dead.

When it came down to it, my bond with Nathan could decompose. A human soul…that was eternal. I wanted to vomit.

“I need Nathan’s consent now,” Bella reminded Max.

He sputtered and looked at me, then at his friend writhing in panic on the bed. “Bella, I don’t know about this. Carrie doesn’t look so good—”

“You are here to give consent on his behalf. That is your only function in this circle. If you cannot do this, you should leave!” Bella snapped. Her eyes were hard and furious, but her hands trembled. She was afraid.

Her fear intensified my own.