“Of course, she isn’t,” Arym said. “I told you not to worry.”
“Has the darling been worrying?” Myra asked eagerly.
“You know how men are,” Arym replied airily. “But never mind him. Get back into your body. We have things to talk about.”
“I’ll be right with you,” Myra said, and the shadowy figure climbed on to the bed and melted out of sight.
A second later what had been Myra’s remains sat up abruptly in bed.
I shied away from her. This, I felt, was a little too much.
“He wants me to come back to you,” Arym said sulkily. “That’s the only way he’ll marry me.”
“Certainly not,” Myra said firmly. “I’ve bad enough of your influence to last me a lifetime. I’d rather be dead.”
I pulled myself together. “Myra,” I said, taking her hand, “you must be sensible. The new moon rises in an hour. If Doc was right, that’s when you’ll lose your supernatural powers and then it’ll be too late to do anything. You have to take her back. Think of me. Think of having her around all the rest of our days. Think of the mischief she could do us if we thwarted her.”
“That’s all very well,” Myra returned. “But what about Doc? She did kill him. I draw the line at sharing a body with a murderess.”