Tara, of course, didn't look like the Devil.

Or a highly evolved dark master, for that matter. In fact, other than looking wet and cold, she looked exactly as I'd remembered her: young, fresh-faced, alert, alive. Not pale and gaunt. Not vampiric.

It's because he's not a vampire, Allison said. Not quite.

I nodded minutely as I invited Tara to have a seat. She did so at the small kitchen table. I asked if she wanted Allison to make her some coffee. Tara shook her head - and just missed the nasty look Allison shot me.

I considered how to broach the subject of her family, and decided to dive right in.

"I've heard about the family curse," I said.

Tara, who was wearing a cute pair of tight jeans and bright red rain boots lined with rabbit fur, snapped her head up. The black, vaporous thread that wound through her aura pulsated a little.

He's listening, I thought. How I knew this, I didn't know, but it seemed obvious now.

"Who told you?"

"That's not important now. What can you tell me about it?"

Her own once-vibrant aura seemed to shrink a little, a sign that she was going within, closing herself off to me. "Sam, it's really quite silly."

"From what I heard, it didn't sound silly," I said. "It sounded dangerous."

The black thread began rotating slowly through her aura now, weaving in and out.

Tara held my gaze briefly, and then looked away. I felt her fear.

"It's really not something I want to talk about," she said. "Also, I don't see what this has to do with why I hired you."

"Why are you afraid?" I asked.

She looked at me, then at the door. I reached out and took her hand. As I did so, the black, ethereal snake swelled briefly and circled even faster, weaving in and out, watching me carefully. Yes, I sensed it watching me.

"You're not leaving," I said.

"Hey, let go."

"I know about the curse, Tara," I said, squeezing her even tighter, but not so tight as to hurt her. Tight enough for her to know she wasn't going anywhere. After all, I was going to have to get through decades of fear and confusion. "I know about your great-grandfather, and I know what he brought upon your family."

She fought me briefly, but to no avail.

As I held her hand, I got psychic hit after psychic hit.

"No," she said. "It's just a silly superstition - "

"You and I both know it's not a superstition. You and I both know that something dark and angry and hungry has entered your lives. Something that will never leave."

"You're crazy, Sam - "

"You feel it in you, you feel it when it overcomes you. You feel it make you say things, do things, want things. You thought you were crazy. You thought all of you were crazy. But it's in you. You understand that now. It's in all of you. In your blood. Like a parasite. A leech. A disease."

"You're crazy, Sam."

"I'm not crazy. And neither are you."

Tears welled up in her eyes. She looked over at Allison, then back at me.

"Why are you doing this? What's the matter with you? I hired you to find answers to my grandfather's death."

"And I am," I said. "But ask yourself: Why did you hire me? Why me, out of hundreds of other private investigators?"

"I live in southern California. I...I liked your ad."

"You live in Los Angeles, nowhere near me."

"Your ad..." she mumbled.

"I see," I said. "And why were you looking for a private investigator in Orange County?"

"I don't - " She paused, fumbling for words. The black snake swirling faster and faster, weaving, in and out...

"You don't know why, do you?" I said.

"I don't - "

"You don't know why because it compelled you to call me, to hire me."

"Sam, please - "

My hands shot out and took both of hers this time. I dug my nail deep into her skin, making blood contact. She gasped, and in a flash, I saw it now, saw how it worked, saw how it used her and the others. The secret manipulation, down through the ages. I saw how it rarely, if ever, revealed its plans to them. It simply manipulated, used them. Like a sick puppet master. Mostly it left them alone.

Mostly. That is, until it needed something from them - or wanted them to do something for it. In this case, it had compelled Tara to call me and hire me.

But she did not know why. It had kept its reasons to itself.

I released her as she recoiled, rubbing her now-bleeding hands, shocked and clearly horrified. But I had seen what I needed to see. There had, of course, been something else I had seen. Something very, very strange.

"Tell me about the digging," I said.

The black snake had swollen to nearly twice its usual size. The entity was here, but hadn't quite taken over Tara fully. No, it was surveying the damage, assessing what needed to be done, if anything.

"It makes us dig," she said finally. "On the north end of the island."

"Dig for what?"

"I don't know."

"But it's searching for something?"

"Yes."

"Is that why you were gone yesterday?"

She looked at me with pleading eyes. I saw the torment in her soul, felt the anguish in her heart. I knew the source of her pain: the entity had taken so much from her and her family.

"Yes," she said. "It doesn't tell us what it's looking for."

"Us?"

"Yes. Mostly it uses Edwin and me.

When he's resting, I take over."

"What part of the island, exactly?"

Tara shook her head. "I...I can't say."

"It won't let you say, you mean?"

She looked at me with pleading eyes.

And nodded.

"Tara, would you like for me to remove this entity from your lives?"

Her mouth dropped open to speak, but she didn't, couldn't. The swirling black snake was so thick now, so dense, that it almost appeared real. The entity, I knew, had just taken her over.

The son of a bitch.

Still, Tara nodded. A very small nod.

It was all she could do against the will of the entity who, I knew, presently possessed her. Tara wanted help. Badly.

Now she stood slowly and smiled down at me. The same creepy smile I had seen on her before. "You cannot win, Samantha Moon," she said evenly, except it wasn't her. "Not against me. Not against us."

And she turned and left the bungalow.

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