The morgue locker swung open with a creak.
Frankie stared at the thing folded inside.
Human skin.
It lay on the metal shelf. Folded. Gray. Leathery. The face was visible, pressed flat against the steel. Empty eye sockets. A dark hole for a mouth.
The smell hit her. Formaldehyde and rot.
This was it. The Soucouyant’s shed hide.
Frankie’s hand moved toward the salt container she’d grabbed from the galley. Her fingers trembled.
The temperature dropped.
Her breath misted in front of her face. The overhead lights flickered.
No. Not yet.
She spun around.
Vondra stepped out of the shadows.
Her flames wrapped across her skinless form. The fiery dress writhed. Heat rolled off her in waves. Her ember eyes burned.
“He is empty,” the voice crackled. “I filled him.”
Beside the creature, another figure stepped forward.
Damon.
He stepped out. Silent. His eyes were wrong. Amber. Vacant.
“Damon—” Her voice cracked.
He lunged.
Frankie dropped. Air displaced above her head as his fist swung through the space she’d just occupied.
She stumbled sideways. Hip caught the edge of a gurney. The salt container wobbled in her grip.
Vondra laughed. The sound scraped against Frankie’s eardrums.
Damon moved fast. He swept his leg out. Frankie jumped, but not fast enough. The kick clipped her shin. Pain shot up her leg. She scrambled behind a gurney.
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“Damon, stop! It’s me!”
Nothing.
He vaulted over the gurney. Landed silent.
Vondra glided closer. Flames licked the air. “Drink,” she hissed. “Take the blood.”
Frankie’s gums ached. The hunger clawed at her throat. She wanted to extend her fangs. To fight. But not him.
Damon closed the distance. He grabbed her throat. His grip was iron. He slammed her back against the metal cabinets.
Instruments rattled inside. The air left her lungs. The salt container slipped from her fingers. Clattered across the floor.
Damon raised his fist. His face was empty.
She couldn’t fight him physically. He was too strong.
She had to break the hold.
Frankie summoned the darkness in her stomach. She let the vampire rise.
She forced her eyelids open. Locked her gaze onto his. She poured her will into her irises. The world tinted crimson. Her eyes glowed. Red.
Look at me.
Her will slammed into his.
Damon’s fist hovered inches from her face. His amber eyes locked onto her red ones. The vacant look wavered.
Frankie saw the pulse thrumming in his neck.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
The scent of his blood flooded her senses. Hot. Copper.
Bite him. The hunger whispered. Drink.
Vondra shrieked. A wave of heat slammed into Frankie’s side. The creature’s power lashed out, invisible claws raking across Frankie’s mind, trying to sever the connection.
Frankie gritted her teeth. Pain exploded behind her eyes. She held on.
“Stop,” she commanded.
Damon stiffened. His muscles locked. The fist raised to strike her stopped. He became a statue.
“Move!” Vondra screamed. She threw her hand out, fingers twitching. “Tear her apart!”
Damon didn’t twitch.
“He’s not listening,” Frankie rasped. Blood trickled from her nose. The effort of holding him was crushing her skull.
Vondra howled.
The distraction was total.
Frankie dove to the floor.
Her fingers scrambled against the cold tiles. She closed her hand around the cardboard cylinder.
Vondra turned. The flames roared higher. Blue. “No!”
She lashed out. A whip of fire cracked through the air.
Frankie scrambled up. She slammed into the open morgue locker.
She grabbed the skin.
It felt greasy. Cold. Wrong.
She ripped it from the shelf.
Vondra’s fire seared Frankie’s arm. Skin blistered.
Frankie didn’t stop. She upended the container.
She poured the salt. Rubbed it in. Grinding the white grains into the leathery folds. Into the empty eyes.
The reaction was instant.
Smoke erupted. Thick. Acrid. The hide hissed and bubbled. It curled in on itself like burning plastic.
Vondra stopped. Her form flickered violently.
The skin screamed.
