I whipped around, not sure which way to look first. At Mys and Haley running to join the fight against Darcy, at Tegan who was now a ghost like me, or at my dead father. A younger version of Wallace Edison stood in front of the heavy oak doors. He spread wings so white they lit up the foyer, spanning at least his height.

"Dad," I whispered again. My heart raced as the angel approached wearing a benevolent smile, but his eyes weren't the same as my father's. I hesitated before hugging him.

"No, I'm not the man you remember," he admitted. "Nothing of my prior existence is known to me. It happens that way so Guardian Angels can focus on protecting their future charges instead of holding onto the past, but...by some miracle...my charge is you."

"I can't believe it. How many years have I prayed just to see your face?" An errant teardrop fell, and he swept it away. "I worked so hard to take care of Haley and make you proud, Daddy."

"You did well. I've been watching over you, sweetheart." He gently chucked my chin. "I'm beyond proud to be your Guardian. That's why it's time for you to wake and live again so I can continue to do my job."

"We...tried." I shrugged, unable to explain what had gone wrong with the Resurrection. I glanced over my shoulder at Baron Samedi.

"Mais ouí," Sam replied as he ambled toward us. "Unfortunately, we were misled about the state of mademoiselle's readiness, and so we have overstayed our usefulness, right, Maman?"

"So ye claim." The saucy Mama Brigit smiled furtively. She planted a fist on her hip, watching the skirmish raging along the second-floor landing, in no hurry to go.

I was captivated by the fight. Dressed head to toe in black, Mys maneuvered with the prowess of a dancer. Or a ninja. Their lithe body demanded attention. The glint of the sword flashed in a blur. There was something infinitely appealing about the way their muscular form wielded it in defiance of physics. Darcy moved too fast for me to see with my naked eye, but the Empath seemed to sense the vampire's every move.

My jaw dropped as wide swathes of light emanated from Haley's fingers and lit up the battle scene. Whenever Darcy would materialize, she'd singe him with the glowing beams, and the wolves would continue to strike. The black alpha led the attacks with a relentlessness that left the vampire unable to heal as quickly as his wounds were reopened.

For the first time since being dragged into this house of horrors, I felt a twinge of hope. I pivoted to the elegant top-hatted loa who was studying the locked front door with interest. "Baron Samedi, wait. I want to thank you for not transferring my Soul into Darcy's wolf, but can I...can I ask another favor of you?"

"As you please." A half-smile played on his lips as he bowed to me.

"Resurrect my friend." I wrapped an arm around Tegan.

"What are you talking about?" She blinked, stunned. I knew it was crazy. She had been my rival in ways I hadn't even realized until it was too late. Yet, she had also come back for me, and Zyr's words replayed in my head. Loyal to a fault, he would've wanted this for his partner.

"If Tegan's body has only been d-dead a few hours," I winced over the word, "is it still usable?"

Sam cocked his head. "Depends. Got the sacrifice?" he asked in an eerie throwback to my meeting with the voodoo priestess. I chewed my lip, pondering. Stealing from Darcy's altar was out, I guessed.

I conferred with Tegan and my father. "We need a sacrifice."

"Aurie, you can't be serious," Tegan whispered.

"Yes, I'm serious. Enough with the skepticism. Any ideas on what we can offer?"

"Whiskey or tobacco is preferred," Samedi mentioned.

Eyes widening, Tegan rocked on her heels in sudden epiphany. She shot off down the corridor, and I hurried after her. Wallace followed on my heels. The four of us skidded to a halt at the entrance to the dining room. Tegan's dead body was still slumped at the table. I covered my mouth and spun away.

"Sorry," she muttered. "There's, uh, a flask in the pocket of my jeans. I'll grab it."

Gulping, I recovered. "No, I'll get it. You can't quite manipulate the real world as a ghost."

She sighed glumly. "Of course. How could I forget."

"And we'll need the body," I murmured.

Nodding, the Guardian Angel moved with me to where Tegan's red hair splayed across her plate of half-eaten food. I gently cleaned her face with a napkin. Averting my gaze from her ashen pallor and lividity, I patted around her pockets for the flask. I returned to where her ghost waited in the hall after I found it. Wallace emerged carrying the dead woman's body.

The loas were waiting for us in the music room. As Haley and Mys dealt with the vampire upstairs, I led the rest of our ensemble back to the site of the ritual. Wallace placed Tegan's body where Brigit indicated. Samedi came to me with an open hand, and I smacked the flask into his palm. He opened it, sniffing. He tossed the bottle to Mama Brigit.

"Good stuff," she said with a dimpled grin. I smiled until she added, "Good, but not enough."

"Wait, what?" I frowned.

Samedi studied his well-groomed fingernails. "This is no simple transfer of a Soul into another body. You're asking to reanimate a corpse. It will take more than a sip of whiskey to do that."

"I-I don't have anything else," I argued. "I'll get you anything you want when we get out of this place, but this isn't even my house. I don't know where—"

Wallace pressed something into my hand. "I believe this might be of interest."

I stared in confusion at the mini square of plastic until it dawned on me what it was. Gasping, I shoved the vape pen refill at the loas. "Tobacco. I mean, it's like tobacco. It's a New Age way to get nicotine," I promised.

Samedi turned it over a few times, studying the pod. Finally, he nodded and I breathed a sigh of relief. Sam gestured for the priestess to place Tegan in the ritual space. I squeezed Tegan's hand, knowing she was afraid.

"It'll be okay," I whispered.

"But why are you doing this for me, Aurie?"

Lifting a shoulder, I answered, "You were actually trying to help me the night of the hit-and-run. Not only that, but you came back from the dead to free me today. You may be an arrogant skeptic with a teeny tiny crush on the man I love, but you have your redemptive qualities, Detective Stoney."

She smiled and shook her head as I backed away to let the loas do their thing. When Brigit began her dirge this time, it didn't look nearly as painful as when I had been on the chopping block. Exhaling, I hugged myself. Wallace appeared beside me.

"Why do you think you couldn't be resurrected?" he asked softly. I had no idea, although I had a feeling he knew why. "Samedi couldn't resurrect you because you're still alive, Aurie. You've been in a coma for over a month."

"...That's not possible." I shook my head, remembering the way my body had lain, broken beyond repair in front of Century Luxe Hotel that night.

"Yes, you suffered greatly...in ways you may never recover from...but you didn't die, sweetheart. I made sure of that. Your body rested while your Soul did what it needed to do in Overlay City. Now, Aurie," he repeated firmer. "You have to wake up."

An avalanche of dizziness crushed me, and it took all my strength to remain standing. I clutched my head in confusion. Maybe it was Brigit's amplified keening—or the swell of power in the room that I felt prickling along my skin like electricity—but I had to get away to think. I covered my ears and ran from the music room.

The blind sprint sent me colliding with the dark-haired woman of the house. She towered over me. "Are you the reason for all this ruckus?" Her sultry voice radiated power. My jaw dropped at the golden shimmer of her skin. Definitely not human.

Wallace caught me when I tried to run again. "I'm sorry, but there's no escaping this, Aurie. Your friends need you," he said.

Quaking in panic, I felt myself unravel, similar to my experience in the glass bottle. My hands began to fade. I was unable to feel the floor beneath my feet. A silent moan of uneasiness swelled in my throat, and I tried to hold onto reality, but I couldn't.

"Dad, help me!" I screamed as I was suddenly flung backward into a dark void. Memories of my Afterlife swirled around me, a tunnel of moving pictures. Vague impressions of my mother's voice merged with the antiseptic smell of a hospital room. The images sharpened. My mind punched through medical tests and procedures back to the harrowing ambulance ride. I slammed into the concrete ground in front of Century Luxe.

Finally, I was staring into Tegan's glazed eyes as she gripped the wheel, heading straight toward me. The clock ticked forward to the moment of impact. I didn't want to experience it again. I didn't want to be dead. I squeezed my eyes shut and heard wolves.

When I opened my eyes, it was me. I was the red wolf snarling down at Darcy Cyprian, and this was war.