Oh, goddammit.

I bore down hard, a nonphysical movement accompanied by a hardening of physical muscles. The sea-urchin shape of my aura trembled on the surface of the visible, spikes starring out hard against the air, light popping on the points. My aura, like any exorcist’s, has grown hard and thick over the course of hundreds of exorcisms, each of them unique—the only commonality is the undeniable will needed to press something inimical out of its unwilling host.

But this case needed something a little different. Silver rattled in my hair, and I heard my own voice.

“Begone, in nomine Patrii, Filii, et Spiritus Sancti! I command you, I abjure you, I demand you release this—”

That was as far as I got before what was in the man exploded, my fingers slipping free, and threw me ass-over-teakettle. The cot shredded itself, screeching as it tore. The restraints held, just barely—once-living tissue more resilient than brittle metal, for once. Avery yelled, diving, and Saul gave a short sharp bark of surprise.

I landed hard, skidding on my hip, hit the wall. Drywall crumbled, puffing out chalk dust. I was on my feet again without knowing quite how, moving faster than I had any right to, adrenaline pouring copper through my blood. Two skipping steps across the room, a leap, and I realized just as soon as I was committed to the motion that I was going to miss.

Crap.

Avery was still yelling as I twisted in midair. The victim rose from the ruins of the bed, leather restraints squealing as his body strained against them, a sound like the wind rushing from the mouth of a subway tunnel thundering through the apartment and blowing out the windows in a tinkle of glass.

He was shouting, still in that lyrical tongue, and the curse flew past me as I twisted even further, my coat snapping taut like a flag in a stiff breeze. I touched down, pulling etheric energy recklessly through the scar, a pucker of hurtful acid wetness inside my right wrist humming with power. My foot flashed out, weight shifting back, and I caught him full in the face right before full extension, the precise point where a kick has the most juice. The jolt went all the way up my leg.