Until the gunshot. That was very close.
My eyes snapped open as Mistress June fell backward. Above me the sky rippled. I blinked, but the face was still there. In the sky. Behind the sky. Trying very hard to get out.
The thought made me so dizzy I shut my eyes for a minute, but that only made everything swirl faster.
Something snarled, and my eyes snapped open again. The face was gone. The sky was just sky. So what had snarled? I’d only heard a sound like that once before.
From my mother.
I tried to call out, Pru? but my mouth was still full of cloth.
I sat up, glanced around for my wolf mother, and saw Brad lifting his gun, pointing it at Bobby. Panic flared so bright my chest hurt. Then the gun flew out of Brad’s hands.
Just like a ghost’s agitation increased its ability to connect with the living, my agitation appeared to increase my ability to toss things.
Brad started toward Bobby, who also had a gun and seemed about to use it. Then one of the naked people jumped on Bobby’s back, and all the rest followed. He fell beneath them, amid the dull thuds of flesh on flesh.
A dark-haired man in an equally dark federalish suit and tie appeared at the edge of the clearing. He slid a bit on the damp grass and fallen leaves. Bright, shiny shoes were not the best idea in the forest. He pointed his gun first at the pile, then at Brad who appeared ready to join in. “Stay,” the man said.
Brad smirked. “You can’t shoot all of them with him in the middle. And you can’t make them stop unless you do. They’ll tear him apart.”
My heart jittered again, and one of the followers flew across the clearing. Both Brad and the fed glanced in my direction. I kept tossing. The more I did it, the easier it became. Embrace the panic, let it expand, send that energy outward, and voilà. Flying people.
The instant Bobby was alone, Brad took a step forward, so I tossed him too. He hit a tree, slid down, and went still. Considering that he’d kidnapped, punched, and gagged me, I didn’t feel bad about it.
The rope at my ankles had loosened. Had I done that or was luck coming my way at last? Didn’t matter.
I jumped off the rock and ran to Bobby. I didn’t even consider that he’d left me behind, disbelieving and furious, at what I’d told him. I had to make sure he was all right.
I fell to my knees; at first thinking the ground was wet, then realizing my clothes were covered in blood. My arm should hurt worse than it did. Adrenaline was a wonderful thing.
Bruises had begun to darken Bobby’s face. Several livid scratches marred his neck. His lip was swollen and bloody. Anger bubbled, and I glanced at the nearest venator, who had started to get shakily to his feet. He flew another three feet and lay still.
“Whoa.” Bobby touched my leg. “Calm down.”
I tried to talk, chewed on cloth instead. He pulled away the gag. His fingers traced my jaw, which must have a matching bruise from Brad’s left cross, and his gaze was gentle, the way it had been before I’d mentioned Genevieve’s name. Hope blossomed.
A movement at the edge of the forest had my head jerking up, my eyes narrowing. A dark-haired woman with a white streak in her hair stepped into the clearing, her hands lifted in surrender. She was so tiny I wondered for a minute if she was a fairy.
“Still a skeptic?” she asked Bobby.
Another of the Venatores Mali moved, and I gathered my energy to make her stop. But the new arrival said, “I’ve got it,” then began to chant in a language I’d never heard before. It sounded French and then again it didn’t.
Whatever she was doing, saying, worked because the faces of the groggy Venatores Mali took on an even more dazed expression, as if they’d all been conked on the head with a brick.
“Voodoo priestess,” Bobby said, and sat up.
I tried to get my mind around that, then gave up.
“Blood loss,” I murmured. “Cheapest high in the world.”
Bobby pulled the knots free and released my wrists. “We need an ambulance.”
Concern flooded me. “Are you hurt that badly?”
“Not me, Raye. You and the crazy woman.”
“Crazy?” I repeated, then followed his gaze. “Oh, Mistress June.”
The fairy girl walked behind the stone. “No ambulance for her. She’s gone.”
“Morgue then.”
“Not gone dead. Gone gone.”
“But I killed her.” Bobby got to his feet, and I followed.
“’Fraid not,” the woman said. She peered into the trees. “Should I go after her?”
“No.” That was the federal agent. “I called for backup. I need you here, Cassandra.”
Cassandra crossed the clearing toward us. “I should probably do something to stop the bleeding.”
“Okay.”
“You’ll need to sit so I can reach.”
“Okay,” I repeated, and sat abruptly in the grass. I probably shouldn’t have gotten up in the first place.
“Raye?” Bobby sounded panicked.
“Shh,” I said. My head swam.
Cassandra shoved it between my knees. “Breathe.”
“Okay.”