Now I wished they would leave again.
The gryphon smashed one massive paw through the door. The glass shattered in an explosion of sound and shards of glittering shrapnel. I ducked, clutching my arms over my head, but the deadly part wasn’t the flying glass. It was the damn gryphon.
It screeched as it tore at the metal support bar. That’s not going to hold it back for long. I glanced at the front door. I could run. Having to tear through the building would slow it down, but I was guessing it had another tracking charm tied to me. If I ran, it would find me, and who knew how many people would get hurt in the process? Plus, the damn thing could fly—if I left the building I’d make myself an easier target. At least inside the building it wouldn’t be able to swoop down on me.
But I can’t just stand here.
I pul ed my dagger. It buzzed in my senses, excited about the prospect of being used. I frowned and glanced from it to the gryphon. I had a five-inch enchanted blade and it had talons as long as my forearm and reach to go with them.
But it’s not real.
But it wasn’t completely unreal either.
I stumbled back as one giant taloned foot swiped at me.
The creature shoved its arm al the way to the shoulder through the busted doorway, and in the part of my vision peering into the land of the dead, the mass of shimmering souls twisted. A face floated to the surface, a face caught in a never-ending scream, and one I recognized. The a never-ending scream, and one I recognized. The skimmer from the rift.
I didn’t have time to stare. The gryphon stuck its head through the space where the sliding glass door had been, wriggling to get that taloned foot closer to me. Tell me it’s stuck.
I’ve never been that lucky.
It wriggled more, making enough room for its other foot.
Damn. I looked down at the dagger in my hand again. That thing will tear me to pieces before I get anywhere near close enough to do damage. The dagger didn’t agree. I could feel that it thought we’d be fine. I wasn’t as confident, and I was the one with the rendable skin. The dagger wasn’t a good option. What else did I have?
The skimmer’s face was stil screaming silently as it stared out of the gryphon’s shoulder. Being able to see souls had always creeped me out. They were shimmery, ful of light, and looked so tempting to touch. Typical y a bad idea, but maybe . . .
I reached into the creature with the part of me that touched the dead. There was more than just the skimmer in that congealed soul mist, but he was the one I could see, could focus on. Centering my magic on the little bit of the skimmer I could see, I pul ed with my power.
Souls don’t like the touch of the grave. It’s unnatural for them. They are what make a person alive, and the grave is for the dead. But these souls were already outside their bodies and more ghost than not. I pul ed, pouring power into the effort. The unearthly wind of the land of the dead whipped around me, mail blew off the table and whirled around the room, the cushions on the couch rumpled, bil owing in the onslaught, and the gryphon’s feathers quivered around its head. Stil I pul ed, and like warm saltwater taffy being tugged on, the soul peeled away from the rest of the soul mist.
As the soul separated from the mass, the gryphon shrank, as if the construct couldn’t support its massive size shrank, as if the construct couldn’t support its massive size with its diminished energy source. The gryphon shrinking was definitely good—except that it was now smal enough to fit through the door.
It hurtled forward, its talons grasping for me. I dove sideways, the air rushing out of me as I hit the ground. And people on TV make it look so easy. The skimmer soul I’d freed hovered in the air, looking confused as he blinked at me. Then his eyes landed on the gryphon and he screamed.
“Don’t just scream. Help me. Distract it!”
Shades have to obey me. Ghosts don’t and he didn’t.
The gryphon was stil large enough that it had trouble turning in the tight space in the smal apartment, which bought me a couple of seconds. I used them. Thrusting with my power, I grabbed another soul in the mist. I wasn’t being picky. I just grabbed and heaved. I poured power into the mist, and another soul, this one an older woman I was pretty sure I’d seen at the morgue, jettisoned free.
The gryphon shrank again. We were now the same height. Of course, it stil had two long-taloned front legs and a razor-sharp beak, so it wasn’t exactly an even fight, but it was at least closer.
It lunged at me, that sharp beak open as it screeched in rage. I dropped, intending to rol out of its way.