With a rough hand to her shoulder, he pushed her down to the floor. “I intend to return and remove the evidence. When they discover your lifeless bodies, everyone will assume someone passing noticed the boulder out of place and kindly replaced it, leaving you both trapped down here.”

The man was insane.

“If you’re caught you do realise you’ll hang,” Ivana informed.

Boyd sneered. “If I don’t pay Stanthorpe what I owe him, he’ll gut me like a fish.”

Isla tried to think of a way to distract him. If only she had the power to compel him. “It’s remarkable how many people are buried wearing their jewellery,” she said hoping they would think of something by the time Boyd had raided the chamber. She nodded to the stone coffin. “There is an exceptional bracelet in that one.”

Boyd’s greedy gaze flitted to the coffin. “You’re lying.”

Isla shrugged. “I’m not. But there is no one to stop you opening it to take a look. I’ve heard tales that noblemen are buried with a pouch of gold coins but, as of yet, I have only had the opportunity to peer into that tomb.”

Boyd narrowed his gaze, yet he said nothing. He turned and stared at the stone coffin. She could almost hear the Devil’s chants urging him to sin. Indeed, waving his dagger at them by way of a warning, he strode over to examine the lid.

Isla suppressed a smirk as she watched Boyd heave as he pushed the slab. Moving back to retrieve the lantern, he returned to rummage inside the box.

His eyes flashed with excitement when he held up the metal bracelet.

“Of course, you do know whose tomb that is?” Isla said feigning a tone that expressed fear.

Boyd tore his gaze away from the shiny object. “I’m not interested in the dead. What use do they have for such glittering adornments?”

“You should be interested. You have just ransacked the grave of a baobhan sith.”

Ivana gasped. “You mean he has brought the curse of a thousand devils down upon himself?”

“I’m not as foolish as Ramsey and Hendry,” Boyd snorted. “I don’t believe in tales of myth.”

“The sith are said to haunt anyone who tampers with their final resting place.” Isla nodded to the open tomb. “Take another look inside. Someone stabbed her through the heart with a wooden stake. Is that not the preferred method of dealing with such creatures?”

The bracelet quivered as Boyd held it between trembling fingers.

His curiosity proved to be too great. As Boyd stared into the coffin, Isla turned to Ivana and whispered, “We must use our powers for mind manipulation to make him believe he’s cursed.”

Ivana frowned. “But we do not possess such powers anymore.”

“I know, but we have to try something.”

Ivana nodded.

Isla conjured an image of herself in her mind’s eyes. Her fangs were long and blood-stained, the whites of her eyes littered with ugly red veins. “The sith will not rest until they have had their revenge,” she mumbled in a deep, sombre tone. “I can see her coming to you at night, sinking her talons into your neck to drain your blood.”

“I can hear her haunting melody,” Ivana said. “She is calling out to you.”

Boyd stumbled back from the coffin. The bracelet fell from his fingers and rolled across the floor to Isla’s feet. It looked shinier than she imagined. Indeed, the more she stared into the reflective surface, the more vibrant the engraved symbol appeared. In her mind, she saw a golden-haired woman suffering from the same affliction, caught a glimpse of an older man forced to hide in the shadows, too.

“Talliano was her father,” she suddenly whispered, the words entering her head for no apparent reason.

Boyd started mumbling again as he put the lantern on the floor. “Can you hear it? Can you hear her song? You were right. I am cursed. She is coming for me. Stay away. Stay away.” He dropped the dagger and covered his ears with his hands.

A soft haunting melody echoed through the chamber. The accompanying words were not in any language Isla could understand. Still she felt a stirring in her chest, the pain of a sad and heavy heart aching with grief.

“Get her away from me. Stay back.” Boyd crumpled to the floor. “Stay back.”

Isla was about to congratulate Ivana on a job well done when a sudden gust of wind blew out the candle in the lantern, plunging them into darkness.

Isla blinked; she had told Lachlan never to discount the impossible. The swirling mist dancing before them stole her breath. The ghostly apparition that loomed over Boyd defied all logic and reason. The spectre’s golden hair shone with a vivid intensity. Her flowing white gown was stained with splatters of red blood. Isla’s mouth hung open as the spirit of a young woman turned to face them.