Here we go again with chapter three! Enjoy, and feel free to let me know what you think!

"There you two are. We were beginning to think we'd have to send a search party after you." Winston smiled from his seat on the couch, a large tome sitting open on his lap, as Peter and Ray walked into the living room.

"I take it you were reading the diary," Egon suggested from his position in the chair across from Winston. He closed the book that he had been looking through, revealing it to be Tobin's Spirit Guide. "We would have moved our work to the dining room table, but we didn't think you would be very long."

"Gee, sorry about that, Egon," Ray said contritely. Then his face lit up as he took the diary out from under his arm. "But this turned out to be a really great find! Hans describes everything! Peter and I both think there could be an answer in here, but we're not sure exactly what it is. Maybe if the both of you read it, you'd see something we didn't."

"You both read it?" Winston asked, shooting a questioning glance at Peter.

The psychologist shrugged. "Wasn't much else to do but look over Ray's shoulder. And it turned out to be really interesting. Really powerful, too."

"Powerful?" Egon's brows furrowed and he pulled out his PKE meter, aiming it at the book Ray held. It reacted. "Hmm."

"Uh, diaries aren't supposed to do that, are they, Egon?" Peter asked warily, his eyes wide.

"Especially translated versions of them," Winston agreed, looking every bit as nervous as the brown-haired man beside him.

"The meter suggests residuals," the blond physicist explained, adjusting one of the knobs. "And not even very strong ones at that. How very odd."

"Hey, where's Felicia?" Ray asked, undaunted by the latest development.

"Figuring out what's for supper. I just checked on her five minutes ago. She'd been pacing around here, asking questions every time we paused on a page, and finally decided there had to be something else she could do." The black man marked his page with the ribbon glued into the binding and shut the book he had been looking through. "Hey, Pete, why don't I show you where all the equipment is? We'll let these two figure out what those residuals mean while we're gone." He stood.

"I suppose that'll work," the psychologist agreed a little too quickly. "I need a chance to stretch my legs anyway. Don't let anyone fool you, Zed. Sitting on a trunk for long periods of time isn't comfortable."

"That's an excellent idea, Winston," Egon commended his friend, looking up briefly from the meter he was fine-tuning. "This way Peter will have no excuse to be left out of the rotation to check the equipment tonight." His pale blue eyes sparkled, although they held a knowing glint. Peter merely made a face at him.

"So what do you think, Egon?" Ray asked as he handed over the diary after Winston grabbed Peter and left.

"Hmm." The blond man narrowed his eyes thoughtfully at the new set of readings the meter was giving him. "I believe I would have to say this signifies not so much a bound entity, but a lingering presence. Nothing substantial enough to suggest a complete ghost, but more like an imprint. And I would say multiple sources."

Ray's brown eyes grew wide. "Wow! Maybe it's like all the Deckers leave a piece of themselves when they read the diary! Like the curse connects them all!"

"That's a possibility, Raymond," Egon said as he began skimming through the pages. "It's possible that a connection is formed while the descendant is living, transforming itself into PK energy upon their death." He quickly read the message Gerritt had left on the last page. "And this could be the source. Gerritt most likely studied the occult to undo what his father had begun, then left this message to all who would come after him. Would it be possible for this to be a trigger for a spell to form the kind of connection I was speaking of?"

The occultist considered it. "I think so, but it would have to be very powerful to have stayed around this long, especially potent enough to still make the link. But with a tight enough focus..." He stepped over to where Egon and Winston had piled the books he had brought along for research and pulled out one of the tomes. "I think you can cut down on the energy you need to make a spell like that work if you narrow the target," the younger man said as he read. "Obviously something that would affect anyone who read it would require an enormous power source to last for any length of time. But this would only be for descendants of Hans Decker. That's not too many people."

Egon frowned as he considered that. "I don't know, Ray. There's no way to estimate how many children a couple may have. For all we know there could be millions of descendants."

"But only one that matters." Ray found the section he was looking for and began perusing it more closely. "I get the feeling that this family tree doesn't have a lot of branches. The demon would probably make sure of that. Makes its job easier. That way it doesn't have to keep track of that many people to figure out who's the oldest and who it should be demanding a soul from. Or who's still alive."

"A marvelous theory, Ray, and quite correct." The two scientists turned around, surprised, to see Felicia Atkinson standing in the doorway between the dining and living rooms. "As far as everything I've been told, the demon tends to use 'extra' children as warnings for the eldest Decker. The threat to have the blood of my line is not an idle one, gentlemen."

"I assure you, Mrs. Atkinson, we were not working under the assumption that it was," Egon said reassuringly.

The lady smiled tightly. "I know. And I think I know what you mean by the diary making a connection. I've always felt something from the book ever since the first time I read it. But why would I get that from the translation? If there was some sort of spell on the original, why would it come through from the copy?"

Egon and Ray shared a look at that. "I forgot about that," the redhead admitted a bit sheepishly. "How would the spell get transferred? That doesn't make sense."

"Mrs. Atkinson, I need you to be completely honest with me. Does your family have a history of dealings with the occult, other than the present situation?" The physicist held the woman's gaze with a serious one of his own.

Felicia took a deep breath and released it. "I can't be sure. But the rumor is they have. I personally have never researched those kinds of things, and I don't believe my mother did either. But she mentioned something about her grandfather and the occult books he had hidden away in his attic. When her grandmother found them after his death she had them burned. She was a very devout Christian and said they were the devil's tools."

"Was he the one that did the translation?" Ray asked.

The woman blinked. "Yes, I believe he was. His two children knew Dutch, but they had learned it under protest. I think that's when he realized that if he wanted to pass down the information from the diary it would need to be in a language his descendants would understand." Her brown eyes narrowed. "Are you suggesting that my great-grandfather transferred the spell at the end of the book when he translated it? That's why he had all those spell books?"

Ray shrugged. "It seems the most logical explanation. That would also explain why it's still as potent as it is. The spell isn't over two hundred years old." He stopped and thought for a moment. "Do you think the spell is activated just by reading it, or is it by touch?"

"What do you mean exactly?"

"Do you have to be holding the book for the spell to take effect, or could you just read the trigger passage?"

Felicia frowned as she considered it. "I think you have to be holding it. I remember reading the diary over my mother's shoulder as she read it aloud to me when I was little, and nothing really happened. It was very realistic for me, like I was reliving it with Hans, but nothing beyond that. When I read it myself years later, it was different. There was a kind of click inside my mind that hadn't happened before."

"I would say that is quite suggestive that your theory is correct, Ray," Egon said thoughtfully.

Ray nodded. "I'd say so, too. I know what she's talking about, about the strange feelings while you're reading the book. Peter and I felt just the same way."

A blond eyebrow rose. "You felt a click?"

"I'm not sure. But it felt like I was reliving what Hans went through."

"What about Peter? Did he feel any sort of click?"

"I don't think he would have, even on the off chance he was somehow descended from Hans. He never held the diary." Neither scientist noticed Felicia straighten and swallow nervously at the turn the discussion had taken.

"Hmm. I'll have to find out exactly what Peter felt when he and Winston return from checking the equipment. What were you looking up, Ray?"

"Oh, just a chapter on lineage-based spells. This old edition of Magick and Spell Casting is a great resource for this kind of thing. It says here that when used as a focus, a bloodline can be one of the strongest magical bonds. That would explain why the spell Gerritt used only needed to be refreshed when the diary was translated instead of completely recast. The readings don't suggest anything more than that."

"I think I'm glad you boys are on my side," Felicia said with a grin, having relaxed once again against the doorframe.

"You guys are out to kill me, aren't you?" Peter's voice said as the front door opened and the two remaining Ghostbusters returned from their tour. "Did everything have to be placed so far apart?" Felicia straightened at the sound of the men's return.

"We needed to cover the immediate area thoroughly, Peter," Egon explained patiently as the psychologist entered the living room. "Besides, you're the one always going on about how the ladies appreciate a good physique. Consider this good exercise for a good cause."

"You are sadistic, Doctor Spengler. Has anyone ever told you that before?"

"Oh, just plant yourself, Venkman," Winston said from behind him as he shoved the brown-haired man further into the room and walked in after him. "The walk didn't kill you."

"Maybe not this time, but repeated exposure? I can't guarantee anything."

"If you boys are done playing, you should probably get back to those books. I'm scared the demon could come back at any time." The silver-haired woman smiled weakly.

"We're sorry, Mrs. Atkinson. We didn't mean to make you think we weren't taking this seriously," Winston apologized.

"Winston's right. Sometimes we just joke around a bit to release some stress. We work better that way." Peter gave Felicia a sympathetic grin. "But we'll get the job done. That's a promise from Doctor Venkman."

She gave him a soft smile. "I know. I'm the one who should be sorry for overreacting. And I want all of you to call me Felicia. There's no need to be so formal."

The black man grinned. "You got it, Felicia. We'll get back to those books and stop this thing."

"I believe in you, I really do. I'm going to work on dinner. Could I speak with you for a moment, Peter?" He nodded and followed her out of the room.

"What did you need?" the psychologist asked once the pair reached the kitchen.

Intense brown eyes met concerned and anxious emerald greens. "I was hoping you'd be willing to run a quick errand for me, actually. I've been looking through the cupboards and I'm not sure I'll have enough for everyone. Could you run into town and pick up some groceries? They weren't part of the supplies I grabbed when we stopped on the way back here."

Peter narrowed his eyes. "Can't we just have something light and run in for something tomorrow morning? That's assuming nothing happens tonight, of course."

"I'd rather you'd all eaten well if something does happen tonight. You'll need all the energy you can get. Will you go?"

The brown-haired man looked at the woman in front of him carefully, hurt blossoming in his eyes. "This is because of the jokes, right? You don't think I can do the job, do you?"

Felicia drew back, startled. "No, that's not it at all. I just meant..."

"I'm a founding member of this team, and I'll prove to you I'm just as capable of finding answers as the rest of them. Doctor Peter Venkman is a man who can pull his own weight, jokes to lighten the tension aside. You'll see." He gave her one last piercing look, then spun on his heel and walked purposefully out of the kitchen.

The sliver-haired lady stared after him, her shoulders slumping as she realized her mistake. "I only wanted to be sure," she whispered once Peter was gone. "Because I'm afraid I could be right."

"So you're saying there's a spell on this diary that links all the descendants of Hans Decker, is that right?" Peter asked Ray and Egon a little bit later once he'd calmed himself down by silently burying himself in one of the books the occultist had brought along. The brown-haired man had stepped over to the end table Egon had placed the translated book on earlier and picked up the tome in question, his eyes contemplating it carefully.

"That's what we think, Peter," Ray responded from his seat on the couch after sharing a look with Egon. "Felicia said something about feeling a kind of click when she held and read it, and you know Egon picked up readings from it. That's probably what Gerritt meant when he said, 'the entire Decker line stands behind you'."

"A click, huh? That's weird." Peter frowned as he ran a light finger across the gold-embossed title on the cover.

Winston gave a short laugh. "That's one way to put it."

The psychologist slowly returned to his seat and sat back down, his eyes never leaving the diary as he turned to the last page and reread what was written there. "The answer's in here. I know it." Without warning he jerked around, emerald greens searching for something over his left shoulder.

"Peter, what's wrong?" Ray asked, leaning forward in concern. "Did you see something?"

"No," the man replied slowly. "I thought I felt something back there."

Egon immediately brought his PKE meter to bear. "I'm not detecting anything beyond the residuals from the journal."

Peter sighed. "It feels real, but I can't say I'm surprised. After those nightmares I've been having, it's no wonder I'm jumpy." He rubbed his face with his hands. "I hate this. I hate feeling like this. I have to be at the top of my game. I have to."

The others looked at him sympathetically. "Why don't you go ahead and take a short nap before dinner?" Egon suggested. "We've started to narrow things down a bit, and you'll be able to assist more if you're better rested."

The brown-haired man looked at the physicist sharply. "You're not saying I can't pull my weight, are you? Because I can, nightmares or no nightmares."

The blond drew back from the defensive tone. "I'd never suggest that, Peter. At least not seriously. You know that. I just thought you might feel better with a little more rest."

"Yeah, Peter. We all know you always come through when we need you," Ray added earnestly. "Go ahead and take your nap. We'll make sure there's plenty of work for you to do when you get up, I promise." The redhead gave his touchy friend a bright grin.

"You would," Peter returned with a sigh as he let himself relax. "All right. Far be it from me to turn you guys down when you're actually encouraging me to sleep. But I'll help again after dinner."

"We wouldn't have it any other way, Pete," Winston said with a smile. "Now get going. There's a pillow with your name on it calling for you."

"Something's calling to me," Peter muttered to himself as he headed for the second floor.

Egon cleared his throat, causing his younger teammate to look back just before he reached the stairs. "We might need the diary, Peter."

"Sorry, Spengs." He handed the tome to Ray, who met him halfway back to the sitting room. "Thanks, Tex. See you in a little while."

"You bet, Peter. Sleep well."

Once the psychologist was gone, the other three Ghostbusters shared a worried look. "I don't like where this is heading," Winston said seriously. "Pete was worked up even before we came out here, and ever since he talked to Felicia he's been even more driven."

"I have to wonder what was said," Egon said with a shake of his head.

"Maybe it was about all his quips," Ray suggested thoughtfully. "While we know he's still working and giving it his all, Felicia doesn't know how we work. She might have misunderstood."

"Possibly," conceded the blond physicist. "However, that doesn't quite explain Peter's single-mindedness. He would be more likely to explain his motives rather than get offended and try to prove himself."

Winston gazed through the dining room at the swinging door that led to the kitchen. "I don't think we're going to find out the specifics any time soon. I doubt either of them is going to be inclined to explain. We're talking about two stubborn people."

Egon sighed. "You're most likely correct, Winston. We should get back to these books. I have the distinct feeling everything's building up to a boiling climax, and it's going to happen soon. We're going to need to be ready." The other two solemnly agreed, and the trio returned to their research.

An hour or so later, Felicia walked into the quiet living room to find three of the four men totally absorbed in the books they were reading. She smiled slightly at the sight, then did a double take as she realized there was someone missing. "Um, gentlemen, where's Peter?" There was a tremor in her tone.

The trio jumped in their seats and brought their heads up sharply at the unexpected interruption. "Oh, wow, Felicia, I didn't hear you come in," Ray said a bit breathlessly, a hand on his chest. "Peter's taking a nap upstairs before dinner."

"Oh." The silver-haired woman bit her lower lip for a second then smiled. "Well, it's a good thing I came in then. Supper's finished. If one of you could wake up Peter and bring him down, I'll get everything set up in the dining room."

"I'll get him," Ray offered as he marked his page and closed the book he'd been studying.

"We'll be happy to assist you with your preparations," Egon added. Winston nodded his agreement.

Felicia's smile turned into a grin. "That would be fine. Everything's in the kitchen."

The auburn-haired occultist watched the others disappear into the other room with a small smile, then headed up the stairs to perform his voluntary task. He was slightly surprised at the lack of snoring in the hall, especially when he saw Peter's door had been left open a crack. Stepping softly so as not to startle his friend awake, Ray made his way to second bedroom from the stairs on the right and poked his head inside.

Before he said anything, light brown eyes widened in shock at what they saw, and the man's words froze on his lips. Peter was lying only slightly sprawled on the bed, the covers mostly intact hiding his legs and torso from sight, and his lips were moving. If Ray listened carefully, he could just make out pieces of words quietly drifting through the room. Concerned about the normally restless sleeper's motionlessness, he moved inside, making his way quickly to the psychologist's side.

Even when he leaned over the supine man, Ray couldn't understand what was being said, although he did determine that it seemed as though Peter was carrying on some sort of conversation with somebody. The engineer regretted not bringing a meter along with him. There was nothing to see, and he didn't get the impression of another presence in the room. Maybe his friend was just dreaming. Bad dreams were what had made the guys send Peter up here in the first place, after all.

Well, he wasn't going to let the man suffer through any more of those. "Peter," Ray said quietly, reaching out a hand to shake him gently. "Peter, wake up."

Emerald green eyes immediately sprang open as Peter took a deep breath just short of a gasp. "What? What's going on?"

"Peter, it's okay. It's me, Ray."

The brown-haired man turned his head sharply to the left, then relaxed when he saw who had awoken him. "Oh, hey, Tex. What's up?"

Ray smiled. "Dinner. Felicia's got everything ready, and Egon and Winston are helping her set it up in the dining room. Come on down and eat."

Peter nodded and sat up with a yawn, stretching like a cat. "I think I feel better. This nap was a good idea. Thanks." He gave the standing man a lazy smile.

"Then it was all worth it. Now you can help us hit the books even harder once we're done eating." The redhead grinned.

The other man groaned as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and prepared to stand. "You slave driver, you. I take it you left your whip at home?" He shook his head as Ray laughed and offered him a hand up. "Lead on, master. The smell of good food is calling, and far be it from me to let it go to waste." Peter stood, ruffled the other man's hair, then led the way out of the room and down the stairs.

Dinner was a somewhat quiet affair, an unspoken truce agreed to by Peter and Felicia, signified by the tentative attitude each presented to the other, and a brief distraction provided by listening to Felicia's stories about her thirty-five-year stay at the ranch. When people were finished eating, Ray and Winston offered to clear the table and do the dishes while Peter leaned back lazily in his chair and said that he had been hoping they'd say that. Ray merely threw a dinner roll at him.

"I suppose we should return to the task at hand," Egon said seriously as the two helpers took the first load into the kitchen and Peter munched on the roll that had been used as a weapon against him. "We believe we've narrowed down the possibilities to five different demons, based on your description. There weren't any artists' renderings, but you may be able to choose this particular demon from the entries we found."

"I'll do whatever I can to help, Egon."

"You let us know if any of this starts to bother you, okay?" Peter told Felicia solemnly after swallowing the first half of his bread. "There are some big issues on your plate right now, and I don't want you to push yourself too far. That's what we're here for."

The older woman smiled. "And I'm very grateful for that, Peter. But I'll be fine. I was a bit shaken up at first, because I knew that I didn't have a whole lot of time left, and that my son didn't know about the curse. But now I'm not just sitting around worrying about it - I'm doing something. And I've brought in the best people to help me. Thank you for your concern."

"Hey, any time." The psychologist gave the woman a soft smile. "So, Spengs," he continued, turning his attention to the blond seated next to him as Ray and Winston returned to finish clearing the table, "what do we do next? Give the books to Felicia and let her pick out the suspect?"

"That would make the most sense," Ray said just before he got to the swinging door between the rooms. "We marked all the pages, right, Egon?"

"Of course, Raymond. I'll bring them in here, as well as the rest of the sources we've marked as the most relevant to this case."

"Great," the redhead responded with a smile. "We'll finish these up as fast as we can and help." He disappeared into the kitchen.

Felicia looked after him with an amused gaze. "He really enjoys this, doesn't he? The job, the work?"

"That's our Ray," Peter replied fondly. "He has a level of enthusiasm for this stuff that's in a class of its own." He chuckled. "We usually have to run to keep up with him."

"That's very true," Egon agreed. "But now let's get the books and start tonight's research." The physicist rose from his chair and began gathering a number of the tomes he and Ray had been sorting through earlier.

"You know, work is a four-letter word, Egon," Peter said distastefully even as he got up to help.

"And effort is a six-letter word," Egon responded. "Neither of which will harm you in any way, Peter." He began stacking books in Peter's arms.

"Says you, Egon," the brown-haired man grunted when he had a full load and started to stumble back to the dining room. "Says you."

"Okay, that's the third time Ray's smacked his head against his book in the last forty-five minutes - it's time for bed," Winston protested later that night.

"No, no, that's okay," the redhead protested, blinking furiously. "I'm fine now, I'm awake."

Peter laughed. "Tex, that's what you said the last two times. I'm with Winston. Time for beddie-bye." He closed his book after marking the page with the old ribbon attached to the binding and stood up. "All good little Ghostbusters - and their clients," he said with a tentative wink to Felicia who just smiled and shook her head, "should be counting sheep, not reading about undead ones." He stretched and set the book aside.

"Really?" Ray asked, perking up and jumping to his feet. "Undead sheep?"

The psychologist sighed. "No, Ray, I was making an example. Let's go to bed."

"Peter is quite right, Raymond. From the descriptions of the two demons Felicia has narrowed the possibilities down to, I'd say that we will require every ounce of energy we can get to face it tomorrow. I believe that we should continue our original course of action and stay in each of the guest bedrooms, however. That way we should be able to use our PKE meters to detect the arrival of the demon no matter which direction it may come in, as well as covering each section of our perimeters if we keep our windows open to more easily hear the alarms if they should be triggered during the night."

"But what about Felicia?" Peter asked, his eyes narrowing slightly in concern.

"I'm quite safe, Peter," the woman in question said quietly. "It can't kill me if it wants me to give up my soul freely. If it harms me it completely negates the original bargain."

"She's correct, Peter. Felicia should be quite safe. But we will all have our proton packs with us in our rooms just to be sure. I believe the hall is not that long. We could all be at her side in a matter of seconds if necessary." The blond physicist adjusted his red-rimmed glasses as he also stood along with Winston and Felicia.

The brown-haired man let out an explosive breath. "I'm not sure I like this, but let's do it. I want those meters to be as loud as they can be. We're probably going to need all the notice we can get."

"You got it, Peter," Ray agreed quickly.

The five of them made their way up the stairs and down the hall to the left. Felicia stood in the doorway directly at the far end and watched the others step into the rooms on either side of the hall. "You'll know if it comes tonight?" she asked Egon, who stood in the open door of the room to her right taking one last reading of the second floor.

"Most definitely," the physicist reassured her, eyes still on the display of his PKE meter. "Each of us has a meter in his room turned up to the highest volume - not even Peter could sleep through that - and all the equipment we have along the perimeter is similarly configured."

"You know, I heard that, Spengs," Peter said, sticking his head out of the door directly across the hall. He'd already changed into his tee shirt and boxers, a robe thrown loosely over his shoulders. "And he's right about most of it," he directed toward Felicia. "With all those gizmos out there ready to blare like a fleet of fog horns, there's no way we'll miss Mister Tall, Dark, and Evil's next appearance. We should just be glad you do live out in the middle of nowhere. We'd really tick off your neighbors otherwise." He grinned cockily.

"Did you get anything with that scan?" Ray said through a yawn, stepping back into the hall in a set of short-sleeved, blue and white striped pajamas from the bedroom next to Peter's. "I've got mine set up on the bed stand."

"Same here," Winston added, stepping up and leaning in the doorway across from Ray. "And my pack's ready at the end of my bed."

"I think that's a ditto all around," Peter said as the other two nodded their agreement.

"I'm not reading any traces of current demonic activity," Egon announced. "I suspect it will wait for you to begin dreaming, Felicia. That's what occurred previously."

"True," the silver-haired lady said thoughtfully. "It didn't come last night or the night before."

"Well, then, let's get to bed. I have a feeling we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow," Peter said ruefully. He waited for the murmurs of agreement, then was the last one to retreat inside his room.

The house quickly grew quiet - too quiet, someone would have said had anyone been awake to notice. It was a couple hours past midnight when the bright moonlight that filtered through the window at the end of the hall to the right of the stairs dimmed considerably, causing shadows to flicker to life across the floor and walls. A group of them near the top of the stairs began to coalesce, thickening into a human-like figure. Once it was complete, the violet glow from its eyes was the only clear light in the hall, and it started to move toward the door of the master bedroom.

There was no sound to mark its slow passage, its head twitching slightly as though it were sniffing the air, some scent lingering to tantalize the creature seductively. When it reached the halfway mark, directly in the middle of the four doors on either side of the hall, it paused and a low, evil chuckle filled the air. The violet light dimmed for a moment, as though it had closed its eyes briefly, then returned, followed closely by the opening of all four of the Ghostbusters' doors.

The shadowy creature chuckled again as the four men stared at it in astonishment. Egon quickly dashed back inside and returned with his PKE meter in hand, staring at it as though he couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Fee, fi, fo, fum..." the demon said tauntingly, its eyes quickly flickering at and dismissing Winston and Egon on its left side. "I smell the blood of a..." Its gaze lingered longer along the right side as it spoke, pausing for a moment on the wide-eyed Ray and then longer on the hard-faced Peter. They could all feel the smile radiating from the shadow, although they couldn't see it.

"No, no, where would be the fun in that?" it purred, eyes darting again to the pair on the left side of the hall. All four men were frozen in place. "If you don't know, then I won't say. I am enjoying this little display, however." It stepped closer to Egon, who somehow managed to drag his pale blue eyes up to the creature's face. "Such a fair one. I haven't had much experience with one like you." The shadows of its arm reached out and caressed the tall man's cheek, chuckling when it felt the shudders the physicist unsuccessfully tried to fight down.

The violet eyes were suddenly blazing toward the right side of the hall as the head turned to apparently look over its shoulder, focused on the fuming psychologist. "You don't care for this much, do you? I can feel your hate radiating from you. Would you prefer I choose another?" It chuckled again as Peter fought to force words past the strange compulsion that held him still and failed. Four steps moved him away from Egon and next to Winston. "Dark skin," it murmured seductively. "Even more rare to me than the pale one. I have only witnessed your kind. I have never had the pleasure of tasting, experiencing you. I would enjoy letting you become my first. Wouldn't you?" It aimed the last question at Peter, ignoring the glare from the dark brown eyes that bore into it from the man whose chest it was allowing its wispy fingers to absently trail down.

"The hate grows stronger. What a beautiful feeling. Can I make you feel more?" The demon turned around, completely dismissing both men it had previously paid such close attention. "Ah, one more," it breathed, locking the glowing violet orbs on Ray's frozen form. The light brown eyes hardened as they watched the creature's approach. "Such innocence, yet I see great knowledge. Barely any fear. You know what I can do to you, don't you? The embodiment of an amazingly intriguing dichotomy is... appealing. Don't you agree?"

Peter could feel his insides boiling over as he watched the shadowy hands run lingeringly up and down the younger man's arms. If only he could do something! At this point he was ready to take this thing on with only his bare hands. Inexplicitly he thought he could feel the presence of a crowd behind him, watching and waiting - even slightly encouraging. Unable to turn and check the accuracy of his senses, he merely accepted the feeling and focused on doing what he could to help his friend. "No," he managed to force out past the energy that held him, using every ounce of his strength to do so. "Leave him alone."

The dark, cowled head turned to face the brown-haired man completely, the purple eyes wide. The surprise was gone quickly, leaving everyone to wonder if they had seen it at all. "Is that what you truly want?" It slid over to stand directly in front of the last man. "Shall I lavish my attentions on you then?"

Emerald green eyes darkened to almost black as the demon brought itself face-to-face with them, only a fraction of an inch away. "Go back to the hell you came from."

"If I go, I'll take you with me." Soft, evil laughter echoed out from beneath the void-black cloak.

"All right, that's enough of your games," Felicia interrupted as her door flew open. She stood in the open doorway like a Fury unleashed, her hair wild from sleep, her fists on her hips, and her dark brown eyes flashing in what little light there was. "You've come here for me, and I tell you I will not give you my soul. And I will stop you. There's no doubt of that." A hard, wicked smile grew on her features. "I found the means to stop you."

The evil chuckle grew into full-blown laughter. "You join the rest of your foolish ancestors, Felicia, in that belief," it said as it straightened to its full height. "There is no way to stop me. Only by giving me what I want will I release you and your family from this curse, and you would be wise to accept that before I have to make an example. Your blood is so near, Felicia. You are fortunate I am patient enough to continue to offer you chances to come to your senses."

"That's only because you need her soul more than you need the blood," Ray snapped defiantly, Felicia's appearance apparently loosening the hold of the spell that had overcome the men earlier.

The violet orbs focused on the occultist. "Both are sweet. But I am not here to debate this point or any other with you. Felicia has what I want, and the power to avert another tragedy for the Decker line." It turned back to the woman in the doorway of the master bedroom. "Ponder this, Felicia. I will return." With that, the purple light grew brighter until the humans in the hall were forced to shut their eyes and turn their heads to avoid being blinded. When it faded, the shadowy demon was gone, the moonlight had returned, and all four meters were squealing as though it were the next coming of Gozer.

"All right, Spengs," Peter began after the meters had been taken care of, his rage and frustration barely in check, "what's the deal here? The meters were supposed to warn us when that thing was coming back for a return engagement, right? What happened?"

"The meters were working perfectly, Peter," Egon responded gravely. "But I hypothesize that the demon laid an enchantment on the area that blanketed any sound but any that it wished to allow through. That would explain why, while we could not hear them at first, the meters were nearly deafening once the demon had left."

"Egon's right, Peter," Ray agreed, checking the readings from his own meter. "And I also think that blanketing effect is what kept us from saying or doing anything until Felicia confronted him. Although I don't understand how you broke through." He paused for a moment in consideration. With a shrug, he continued. "My meter says we're dealing with a high-end Class Seven demon. This is going to be a tough one." He grinned as he brought his head up from the display, bouncing back quickly from the encounter. "Isn't it great?"

"I concur on the type of entity we're dealing with," Egon said as Peter and Winston shook their heads at Ray's last comment. "However, with these readings, as well as a first-hand view of the creature," he paused as an involuntary shudder passed through his body, "we should be able to choose which demon it is from the two choices we've narrowed our list to."

"Well, at least something positive came out of the experience," Winston said, resignation in his voice and his gaze avoiding any of the others.

"So what do we do now? It can get around our defenses anytime it wants to." Peter's furious scowl morphed into an alarmed look. "Hey, what about the equipment we've got around the house and yard? What happened to that stuff? I don't hear it going off."

"You're right, Peter," Egon said urgently. "We need to check on them immediately." He began to stride purposely down the hall after putting on his slippers and proton pack, Ray and Winston right behind him.

Peter paused on his way to take up the rear of the party. Looking seriously at Felicia he asked with concern, "Are you going to be okay while we do this? I can stay if you don't want to be alone."

The lady smiled shakily. "I'll be fine, Peter. Go help your friends. Like I said before bed, I'm perfectly safe."

The psychologist grinned in return, his sense of control returning as the sense of presence around him faded. "And feisty, too. I've always liked my women feisty." He wiggled his eyebrows and took off after the others as Felicia laughed, the sound weak with reaction.

Ray wandered down the stairs from the second floor for the third time during his watch later that night, his eyes darting around somewhat warily. He had taken the first watch when Winston had suggested they do so for the rest of the night after they had checked the equipment left outside. The occultist was still excited at the prospect of the challenge this demon and curse presented, easily overcoming the thoughts of what it had threatened him with earlier, and he even had some ideas that just might work to weaken the bond enough to be effective. But he still didn't want the thing to get the jump on him.

He shifted the proton pack he still wore as he reached the ground floor and took the few steps into the living room. Now that the demon was gone the moonlight brightened the room, causing the frames on the mantle to catch his eye. The redhead walked over and let his eyes rove over the various prints, smiling at the sight of Felicia and an older man he presumed was her second husband and three younger adults he guessed were her step-children sitting around a table at a restaurant grinning widely.

He picked up that particular picture to look at it more closely, recognizing the decor of the background to be from a fancier place in Manhattan. The establishment hadn't changed it much in the eight years since the shot had been taken, if the tag marking the birthday party it was documenting was correct. Actually, he and the guys had their last anniversary party there, celebrating five years of ghostbusting. It was a nice place.

As Ray was returning the photo to its original position, an older picture that had been hidden somewhat got his attention. He traded frames, and took in the image of the little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Something about him seemed familiar...

His fingers shifted along the back, knocking one of the tabs that held the cardboard backing in place askew. Ray flipped it over, intending to put everything back the way he found it, when he saw the newspaper article poking out. Intrigued, he removed the backing all together and moved closer to the couch to set it all on the coffee table. Once that was done he unfolded the yellowed paper, wondering who "Lorraine" was. Ray's light brown eyes widened when he saw the picture, and his gasp echoed through the quiet room.

"So you recognize it," Felicia's voice said softly from behind him.

"Did you know when you called us?" Ray asked their employer after he had turned to face her.

Her dark brown eyes sparkled with moisture. "No. I had no idea. I never paid all that much attention to what you four were doing in New York, so I never learned your names. And since I hadn't spoken to my son since he was eighteen, I had no way of knowing if he was married or had children. This picture says he got married, but I never heard anything else. I didn't know." The woman's voice was filled with pain from a wound that had obviously never healed.

Ray softened at the sound, his naturally forgiving nature coming to the fore. "Why didn't you try to find out?" he asked gently.

"He didn't want me in his life. I was going to respect his decision. I always hoped time would show him how wrong he had been about me and my feelings for Jerry, but obviously that didn't happen. But I couldn't just root through his affairs without him knowing. If I was going to know about any family he had made, I wanted to hear it from him." Tears had overflowed down her cheeks, but her voice had gained in strength.

"Wow." Ray looked at the picture again and shook his head. "Peter'll never believe this. Never. Not that I think I can blame him. I'm not sure I believe it yet."

"What am I going to do, Ray? Charlie has never forgiven me for what he claims I did to him, and I think it would kill me to have my grandson suffer the consequences of that break. My heart nearly stopped when I saw the way the demon seemed to be focused on him upstairs. I couldn't get him to leave before dinner, and I thought I was about to pay the ultimate price." Felicia sounded desperate and terrified.

Light met dark as their brown gazes collided. "I wish I knew what to tell you, Felicia, but I don't. I think Peter deserves to know, and that you should tell him. And it needs to be soon. This demon will be after him - we've already seen evidence of that."

The woman sighed and dropped her head. "I know you're right, Ray. I want to tell him. I'd like the opportunity to get to know him and have him in my life the way I would have always wanted him to be if I'd known he existed. But I don't want him distracted when he deals with this demon. Do you think that if I tell him, he'll be able to fight this thing?"

"I hadn't thought of that." The redhead pursed his lips as he considered the question. "Peter can be kind of unpredictable sometimes, and I think we're going to need all four of us to put a stop to this creature's threat." He squeezed his eyes shut and frowned. "Boy, this is tough. On one hand, not knowing the danger he's in could put him in even greater danger, but on the other hand, if he finds out why he's in danger his reaction could put him in that greater danger. No matter what, the demon is going to be looking for him to try to force you to give up your soul."

Felicia swallowed before filling the brief silence caused by Ray's return to his thoughts. "If you think Peter could react badly to finding out about his connection to me and the curse, I think his best chance at surviving this would be not to say anything until it's over. You've dealt with demons before, I believe." Ray opened his eyes and nodded in confirmation. "And I'm guessing that Peter is quite capable of handling himself in that kind of situation." Ray nodded again. "So not knowing won't affect his... performance?"

"I wouldn't think so," the occultist replied.

"You have the demon narrowed down to two choices, right?"

"Well, yeah, sure."

"Do you think if we really focused tomorrow morning we could find a solution and end this? Do you think we could save Peter?" Felicia's voice cracked as tears continued to overflow down her cheeks, and her overwhelming concern broke away from her control and completely transformed her features.

Ray's heart broke at the sight and at his own boiling worry for one of his closest friends. "I know we can save Peter, no matter what. But I think we're close to being able to end it. As soon as I get a name and some background on this demon, I'll be able to find out what we need to do to be able to stop it. I know I've got the right books. I just have to find the answer."

"So, do we tell him?" The question was soft and broken.

"I don't think we can afford to. He's going to need to be at the top of his game, and I'm not sure he can be if he's dealing with all the emotions this latest surprise from his dad is going to dredge up. But we have to tell him as soon as possible afterward. You have to promise. I hate the idea of keeping secrets from him." The pain the decision was making him feel was apparent in every line on his face.

Felicia gathered herself together and drew herself to her full height. "I promise, Ray. I promise with every fiber in my being. As soon as it's safe, I'll tell him."

Ray nodded and glanced down at his watch. "We should get back to bed. It's Winston's watch." Ray led Felicia back upstairs after putting away the picture of the young Charlie Venkman, and the rest of the night went by uneventfully.