The Banshee's Revenge - By Victoria Richards Page 0,3

that statement. I won't be helping you cross over."

With a little laugh, she blew him a kiss and then opened her hand. Foster felt a new pain ripping through him. Slowly, Jacqueline began closing her hand, and as she did so, he could feel himself fading.

It hit him then what would happen, and the fear he felt was ten times greater than when his body had boiled.

Once her hand closed, none of his soul would ever exist again.

*****

When it was done, a part of her felt guilty about Foster.

True it was just a small part and it was way deep down in the last little bit of humanity she possessed. Jacqueline wasn't sure what to do with the feeling. Her banshee half, now tainted with the essence of Death, consumed her more and more. It gave her both an amazing power and an incredible, draining fatigue once her deeds were done. The need to kill the wizards who'd wanted to harm her, the desire to rip the soul out of anyone who looked her way, the blood lust she felt every time her thoughts turned to Gwydion--these needs ruled her, crushing the human part of herself day after day.

But no matter how many of the wizards she took vengeance on, there was still one that could break her.

Toby.

Every time she thought of him, the pain would roll around in her heart. He'd asked Death to kill her quickly. It didn't matter what pretty words he'd told her after she'd triumphed. He didn't really love her.

But oh…how she still loved him.

When Foster--the wizard she'd been tracking for weeks--had led her back to Galesburg Falls, she'd been hesitant. What if she saw Toby? What would he do? But after some thought, she'd realized that's what Foster was probably hoping--that her love for Toby would be too great and she wouldn't be able to follow him. Jacqueline suspected Foster might even be running to Toby for help, perhaps thinking that luring her here would force Toby to kill her.

And as a wizard, he would have every right.

She'd been a very bad banshee, leaving a trail of dead members of the Brotherhood behind her.

Tired, she stared down at the gurgling river and wondered what Toby would do when he found the body? Did she really want to find out?

How had everything gone so wrong?

Because you're a killer now, Death whispered in her head. You're losing yourself and your own supernatural nature to me every day.

"Shut up," Jacqueline whispered through gritted teeth. "I don't want to talk to you."

But I'm always with you, my dear. You made sure of that when you took the essence of a being more powerful than you.

"You're delusional." Jacqueline dipped her hand in the cold water and pressed it to her warm forehead. "I killed you. Some powerful being you are."

And who do you think is driving the car-- so to speak? Who is really in control here? Death's laughter reverberated through her head. It's me that helps you kill those wizards. It's me who decides our next move. One day I will truly be reborn through you. Then we’ll see who really absorbed whose essence.

"That's enough!" Jacqueline stood and concentrated on closing her mind to Death's taunting voice. When she had control once again, she opened them to find the moon illuminating her reflection in the water.

It was a sight she had been avoiding.

A pale face with sharp green eyes and surrounded by a tangled mass of streaked gray and blonde hair looked back at her from the water. Her cheekbones were prominent as if the skin was stretched a little tighter across them, and her lips were cracked and caked with small drops of blood. A scar ran along her forehead-- a memento of a fight she'd won against a different wizard.

This is who you are now, she told herself. Banshees don't use Clinique.

To be fair, it wasn't the worst she'd ever seen herself look. A few months ago she'd turned into the hag version of a banshee. That had not been pretty at all.

Sitting back on her knees, Jacqueline listened to the night and felt the bothersome weariness that always came after using her power creep up on her. A frog croaked for its mate, while a lone crane skimmed across the water in search of an unsuspecting fish and a quick meal. Small, nocturnal creatures living close to the river rustled in the grass as they darted from their homes to start the evening. They paid