Devin swung around to look and saw Beth.

  Beth—with an athame in her hand.

  Beth, ready to slit her throat.

  * * *

  Rocky skidded to a stop in front of Devin’s house and felt his stomach roll when he saw her front door standing open. He saw no one and started to open his mouth to shout out, then closed it, deciding stealth was his friend. He’d seen another car pulled off the road near the trees. He didn’t know who was in the woods at this point, as he headed into the trees as quietly as he could. He tried to concentrate on Devin—he tried to think like Devin.

  That didn’t help. Devin was a fighter. If she thought a friend was threatened she’d rush into battle because she saw it as the right thing to do.

  He had to find her.

  Moving into the woods, he nearly tripped over something.

  He hunkered down, his heart in his throat.

  A body.

  Not Devin! Thank God, not Devin.

  But Theo. Theo...bleeding into the ground. He would be dead if help didn’t come soon. But help would come. Jack had called it in. He hoped....

  He couldn’t stay by the fallen man; he had to find Devin.

  Devin was the target.

  As he stared into the darkness, desperately trying to figure out which way to go, he blinked. Someone seemed to be materializing in front of him.

  He blinked again and gave himself a mental shake.

  But the image remained.

  Melissa. Melissa Wilson. Lovely and so young, with her long hair falling to her shoulders, wearing the white spring dress in which she had been buried.

  She beckoned to him.

  And he followed.

  * * *

  Pepper spray.

  Rocky had showed her how to use it, and she’d held it tightly in her grasp since she’d left the house.

  Beth had meant to get her from behind, but thanks to Margaret she’d swung around and ruined that plan. And now, while Beth was preparing to wield the knife again, Devin was ready.

  And faster.

  The pepper spray hit Beth right in the eyes. She screamed and instinctively tried to wipe her eyes.

  Devin lunged forward, bringing Beth down to the ground and wrenching the athame from her hand.

  “Bitch!” Devin cried in fury.

  There was a rustling in the woods and Gayle burst through the trees. Devin staggered to her feet, staring down at Beth with disbelief. She turned to Gayle. “It was Beth all along. She used us. She played us—all of us. Theo is dead. But I used my pepper spray, and—”

  Devin broke off, because Gayle’s face had changed. Her expression was dark, insane. Dangerous. Devin could hear the distant sounds of sirens now, but all her attention was on the woman standing in front of her.

  “She’ll have to take the fall, won’t she?” Gayle said, looking contemptuously at Beth.

  Staring at Gayle, Devin saw it all so clearly. “You,” she said. “You killed Melissa Wilson. Beth wasn’t in on it, then, was she? Then you chickened out for a few years. You didn’t want to get caught. You knew who you were—who Beth was—who your ancestors were, right? Margaret’s sisters-in-law. How stupid are you? Did you really believe in a bunch of old legends about Satan? No devil is going to make you live forever and give you everything. How the hell could a woman of your intelligence fall for the Strega of Satan? Well, it’s over now.”

  Gayle smiled at her. “Beth was always my best student,” she said. “Ready to keep on learning as she grew. So, you know, huh? You’re Margaret’s descendant. It’s only right that it ends with you.”

  Devin had Beth’s athame and the pepper spray, and she was ready to use both. But to her astonishment, Gayle drew a gun.

  “Drop them. Drop the athame and the pepper spray. Buy yourself a few more seconds of life,” Gayle said.

  “Gee, a bullet, or my throat slit,” Devin said.

  But before she had to make a decision, she saw someone in the woods.

  “Drop the weapons and let me do this right,” Gayle said.

  “It’s Melissa Wilson,” Devin said. “She’s come to get you.”

  “Seriously? Oh, come on, Devin. So what if a ghost is here? I’m protected by a stronger power!”

  “Well, I’m not saying that a ghost is going to get you, Gayle. But someone is,” Devin said.

  Because Rocky was right behind Melissa Wilson, who had led him straight to her.

  Gayle spun around, ready to fire, just as another scream rent through the night—a different scream.

  Poe.

  Poe soared through the night and dive-bombed Gayle’s head. She fired, but her bullet went astray.

  Another gunshot.

  And Gayle screamed as Rocky’s bullet caught her gun hand. She dropped her weapon and fell to the ground, sobbing and screaming and cursing them all.

  Rocky rushed to Devin. She dropped the athame and the pepper spray, and fell into his arms.

  “You didn’t kill her,” she whispered.

  “I should have. But she wanted to die, I think. Maybe find the ‘master’ she was serving. I think a lifetime in prison is going to be a different hell for her. She needs to live, and so does Beth. They need to find hell, all right—hell right here on earth.”

  Jack, blood dripping from his forehead, came staggering toward them.

  He looked at the fallen women, then back to Rocky and Devin.

  “I don’t believe it,” he said. Then his eyes widened.

  As if, Devin thought, he’d seen a ghost, just like the expression said. She watched as he shook his head, as if to banish what he thought he’d seen.

  Devin turned. Melissa Wilson smiled at them, then turned and walked away. As she neared the huge gnarled oak, she met up with the ghost of Margaret Nottingham.

  Together, they disappeared.

  “Rocky,” Jack gasped. “Rocky, I just saw... Oh, man, that bitch really did crack my skull.”

  * * *

  “We weren’t figuring on two killers—and we sure as hell weren’t figuring on women,” Rocky said.

  Three hours had passed since Gayle and Beth had been taken away in cuffs, and now they were gathered in Devin’s cottage—Rocky and Devin, the Krewe members, Brent, Jack and Haley—who’d driven Jack back from the hospital, where he’d had his head stitched up—Vince, Renee and, of course, Auntie Mina, who sat on the sofa next to Devin, an arm around her. She touched Devin’s hair every now and then, a true doting great-aunt. Devin could have sworn she felt her touch.

  “I still can’t believe it,” Devin said. “We should have seen it. Remember back when we were in school and Gayle—Mrs. Alden to us back then—was always telling us how important out pasts were, especially if our family trees went back to a key moment in history, like the witch trials. She must have researched all our family histories. And religion—she used to talk about all religions and how closely religion and history were connected. She must have found out what went on and read so much about Satan that she convinced herself there really was a devil who would reward her. And she was still Mrs. Alden in this town. She must have started going crazy—I mean really crazy, diagnosable—somewhere in there, but people looked up to her. No one would have thought to question her even if she seemed...off sometimes.”

  “And the hotel security system wouldn’t have been a problem for her. She ran the computer lab at school. She was always a whiz at tech stuff,” Brent continued.

  “What I’d like to know,” Jack said, “is how the hell Gayle got Beth under her spell. So to speak.”

  “We know for sure Beth wasn’t involved in Melissa’s murder,” Devin said. “Which...I guess that’s something.” Tears filled her eyes. “She was my best friend. Maybe if I hadn’t moved away, she wouldn’t have—”

  Rocky stepped in then. “Devin, it’s not your fault in any way.”

  Devin shook her head, blinking back the tears. “But the friend I knew... She was a great person and then... I guess I miss the person I knew.”

  Rocky smoothed her hair back. “It’s all right to miss people you loved—even when they’re still there but not really the same person anymore. Even when they tried to kill you.” He looked at the others again. “Like Devin said, Gayle did that one on her own. She was inexperienced, and it was her first kill. From what she was raving on about as they cuffed her and got her into the patrol car, she’d found Melissa’s story in her research on the trials, and though we’ll probably never really know what happened, she decided Margaret had been killed to curry favor with the devil, and win power and riches in hell. I think she thought the devil would help her kill when she took up his work—after all, she was framing Wiccans, basically his enemies, so she assumed he would be pleased—but when he didn’t, she got freaked out by what she’d done, and she was afraid of being caught.

  “So she waited,” he went on. “She waited—growing crazier all the time—until she could find an accomplice. Somewhere over the years she glommed on to Beth, caught on to how insecure she was and played on that until Beth was as crazy as she was.” He was quiet for a minute and then shrugged. “I thought there was something strange about the way Beth was attacked. The two of them staged it—staged the whole thing—to throw suspicion off them. Gayle hit Beth on the head, because it had to do more than look real, it had to be real, then left her lying in the bushes till we came along and she could sucker us into going out searching.”

  “How about tonight? How did they get Theo out here?” Jane asked.

  “That was the easy part,” Rocky said. “They just said they were worried about Devin and asked him to drive them out to visit. Then Beth pretended she saw something in the woods, so he pulled over and ran out to defend them. They followed him, attacked him, then started screaming and calling for help, trying to lure me out, since as far as they knew I was here with Devin, so they could go after her.”

  “And it damn near worked, too,” Jack said sheepishly. “They just got me instead of you.”

  “That was probably why Gayle had the gun,” Rocky said. “So she could shoot me before moving on to Devin.”

  “I know I’m a cop,” Jack said. “I should be used to seeing what people can do, but this kind of craziness...well, it gets to me. After what happened here in Salem, you’d think people would be smarter.”

  “People are just people,” Rocky said. “Most of them are wonderful, but those who aren’t...”

  They were all quiet for a minute, a moment of reflection that was broken when Angela’s cell phone rang. They all watched expectantly as she answered, but her string of “uh-huhs” told them nothing.

  “Thank you,” she finally said, then looked up at them with a big smile. “Theo has a chance,” she said. “Gayle missed the artery, so he lost a lot of blood, but they’ve stitched him up and given him a transfusion, and there’s real cause to hope.”

  “Thank God,” Devin murmured. “And we were so sure it was him.”

  “Don’t forget Chris, the old guy at the bar,” Sam said. “We got him cleaned up and fed, gave him some new clothes, since his old ones are evidence. He’s taking us to the place where Gayle buried each knife after she killed. Apparently the devil demanded a virgin blade for each sacrifice or something. His testimony will be invaluable at their trials.”

  “And I have a friend who’s going to set him up in assisted living and help him get a job,” Jack said. “Then it will be up to him.”

  “I’m so glad,” Jenna said.

  Eventually everyone except the Krewe left, which was actually something of a relief, since it left them free to talk about how invaluable Melissa and Margaret had been in catching the killers—and saving lives.

  There was a knock at the door. Devin hopped up to get it, but Rocky was right on her heels. Clearly he was taking no chances with her safety.

  A dignified, elderly man was standing there when she opened the door. “Miss Lyle?” he asked.

  She didn’t have to guess who he was, because she heard the other Krewe members cry out in delight.

  “Adam!” Angela called.

  The man smiled at Devin and winked. “Yes, well, you all told me I needed to meet Miss Lyle, so here I am.”

  “Come in, please,” Devin said.

  “Yes, please come in,” Auntie Mina said, leaping up and smiling just as if Adam could see her and respond.

  Adam Harrison joined them, and they quickly brought him up to speed on the case. It was long after midnight at that point, though, and everyone was physically and emotionally exhausted, so the Krewe said good night and headed back to their hotel, while Adam accepted Devin’s invitation to stay the night at the cottage.

  That night Devin decided to believe that Auntie Mina would stay discreetly away from Devin’s room.

  She suspected that her great-aunt would probably be busy sighing at the door of her own room—where Adam Harrison would be sleeping.

  Devin lay next to Rocky, just glad to be with him—and so thankful that they’d survived dangers from both the past and the present. She threaded a strand of his hair through her fingers and asked him, “When you shot Gayle...don’t you usually shoot to kill when someone is shooting at you?”

  “Yes,” he admitted, then was silent for a long moment. “But what I said—I meant. She wanted hell so badly, but I truly think that for someone like her, there’s no hell like the hell you can find on earth.” He pulled her into his arms. “And,” he added, “there’s nothing even close to the heaven you can find on earth, either.”

  Devin smiled and touched her lips gently to his. “Mmm,” she said softly.

  “Mmm what?” he whispered against her lips.

  “I’m tasting heaven,” she told him.

  Their kiss deepened.

  Heaven.

  They hadn’t exactly settled their future tonight.

  But wherever it led, they would head there together.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from THE CURSED by Heather Graham.

  “Graham deftly weaves elements of mystery, the paranormal and romance into a tight plot that will keep the reader guessing at the true nature of the killer’s evil.”

  —Publishers Weekly on The Unseen

  If you loved The Hexed, be sure to also catch all the titles in the popular and dark Krewe of Hunters series by New York Times bestselling author Heather Graham. Available now wherever ebooks are sold!

  The Cursed

  The Night Is Forever

  The Night Is Alive

  The Night Is Watching

  The Uninvited

  The Unspoken

  The Unholy

  The Unseen

  The Evil Inside

  Sacred Evil

  Heart of Evil

  Phantom Evil

  Looking for more Heather Graham? Then don’t miss Waking the Dead and all the titles in the Cafferty & Quinn series.

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  1

  Hannah O’Brien walked into the large kitchen, ready to throw something. The past hour had been pure bedlam—guests hysterical and screaming, she herself completely baffled.

  Of course she had offered to refund everyone’s money and suggest a beautiful chain hotel for them to check into.

  She opened her mouth, not to scream, but to call out for immediate attention. Because she couldn’t think of anything else that might have happened except that one of her permanent residents had played a not-very-funny trick on her unsuspecting guests.

  Melody Chandler was already there, leaning against the refrigerator in her beautiful Victorian glory, staring at her.

  “What the hell was that?” Hannah demanded. “Did you bring a friend in? A dying man with his throat slit, carrying a knife and trying to kill my guests?”

  “No!” Melody protested.

  “That was unbelievable. I’ve never had guests up and leave at 4:00 a.m. before. Never. And I’ve never had to refund anyone’s money before, either.” Angrily, Hannah crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the ghost with whom she had shared this house for as long as she could remember. The original owner had been Hannah’s great-great-great grandfather on her father’s side, but she had actually inherited the house, already a B and B at that point, from her uncle. She had been his favorite niece, and she had loved him and the house. Sadly, he had died in his late forties from a sudden heart attack, and she had inherited the Siren all too soon. He had known how much she loved the place. She’d spent much of her time there with him, since her parents—who had lived a few blocks away on Simonton Street—had both worked.

  She knew the house backward and forward—along with its ghosts.

  She fought to control her temper. “Melody, a little spooking the guests is fun, but this time you and Hagen went too far. I’m fighting to keep this place, but I can’t do that if I don’t make a profit. You two just scared all our weekend guests away. And Shelly, the poor girl who saw you, was beyond terrified. And from what she described, I don’t blame her.”

  “You did not listen to me, Hannah,” Melody protested, staring at her with wide eyes, pleading to be believed. “We did not do it. Hagen would never do anything like that. You know how squeamish he can be. And look at me. Do I look like a bleeding man with a knife? And who do I know? The same spirits you do! I do not know of a single spirit walking around Key West with a bleeding neck and a knife in his hand.”

  Melody and Hagen didn’t refer to themselves as ghosts and didn’t like to be referred to that way. Of course, tourists and most locals called the city’s haunts ghosts, but Hannah was usually careful and polite, following their wishes and calling them spirits within their hearing.

  And with her temper cooling, now that the brouhaha in the house had died down, she had to admit that she really couldn’t picture her resident ghosts turning themselves into the terrifying apparition described by her now-gone hysterical guests. But if her two known household entities hadn’t been playing tricks...