No. That wouldn’t work. I needed the cuffs off. Getting out of here would be a hel of a lot easier if I could use my hands. “I need to draw it. My magic is . . . peculiar.” Okay, that was almost a lie. My magic was peculiar, that was true, and I did need to draw the circle to have an excuse to be freed, but the two statements had no connection. It was amazing what vagueness and implication let me get around. I’d remember that the next time I dealt with fae.
Bel frowned, but after a moment he nodded and the goons unlocked the handcuffs. The release from the irritating constraints was a shock, which made being free more painful than being bound. I pul ed my arms to the front of my body and rubbed my aching wrists, which were red and puffy. PC licked my hands, offering his own comfort.
“Do you need something to draw the circle with?” Bel asked, and before I could respond, a young woman with hair she clearly hadn’t brushed since she woke stepped forward and handed me a stick of chalk.
It wasn’t the nearly invisible wax chalk I usual y used for indoor rituals but a fist-thick stick of neon pink sidewalk chalk. Right. I accepted it, frowning as the powder coated my fingers, and then I looked around. The ghosts in the room were losing interest in the skimmers and floating off.
That wasn’t good. I needed the ghosts to be interested.
Very interested.
The ghost who’d smiled at me earlier hovered near the stairwel . I started to make my way toward her, but one of the goons grabbed my arm before I made it two steps.
“Where are you going, Miss Craft? You wouldn’t think about double-crossing me, would you?” Bel asked and nodded to Goon Two, who leveled his gun. “Betraying me could be very bad for your health.”
could be very bad for your health.”
“Just trying to decide the best place for my circle.”
“How about right here in the center of the room?”
Because there are no ghosts in the center of the room?
But in truth, as I had no plan to invoke the circle, it didn’t matter where I drew it. I moved to where Bel had indicated and began dragging the neon pink chalk across the concrete floor. It would have been easier if my purse and PC hadn’t been dangling around my torso, but I wasn’t sure how the next few minutes would play out and I wanted PC
with me, just in case I didn’t have time for anything but running.
“Pssst, hey,” I whispered, trying to get the closest ghost’s attention as I drew the most meticulous—and fluorescent—
circle of my life.
The ghost didn’t look at me, but one of the skimmers did.
“Are you talking to me?”
“No.” I flashed him some teeth and then drew the last foot of my circle.
Once I straightened, I handed the chalk back to the woman who’d given it to me. My entire palm was coated in bright pink powder. With a grimace, I wiped my hand on my thigh and then moved to the center of the circle.
“I’m going to start now,” I told Bel , but I didn’t activate the circle.
I glanced around. There were only three ghosts left in the room. Damn. Not that there was anything I could do about i t. Well, here goes. Resituating PC, I clutched the purse and dog to my chest and closed my eyes. Then I took off my charm bracelet, shoved it in my pocket, and threw my shields open wide.
Grave essence crashed into me. I’d never worked in a graveyard outside of an active circle before, and any other time, I would have said it was a suicidal y stupid idea. Now it was a matter of necessity. Taking on the essence of dozens of graves was like diving headfirst into an iceberg, but I didn’t stop or even try to slow the flow. I let the essence but I didn’t stop or even try to slow the flow. I let the essence pour into me, fil me, and mingle with my magic. Wind ripped around me, tearing at the underground room. More than one of the skimmers made strangled, startled sounds.
And I’ve only just begun.
I opened my eyes. Now the ghosts were staring at me, more flowing into the room as my body fil ed with the grave.
Roy had once told me that normal y I looked like any other mortal, maybe just a little clearer than most, but once I started channeling the grave I lit up, glowing like a beacon.
That was another reason I raised shades only inside a circle—not everything in the land of the dead was friendly.
I could feel the dead al around, the bodies cal ing to me and promising release from the war raging in my body as my life, my heat, railed against the grave essence seeping into every cel of my being. So many bodies, so very many bodies, and many so much older than the graveyard was reputed to be, far older than Nekros. My power brushed against something ancient, powerful, and aware, and I recoiled, drawing back before it noticed me. I have enough.