Pure Blooded

Something brushed by my ear again.

 

I’d had some interactions with ghosts once before in New Orleans, but this was decidedly different. The ghosts there had felt like gusts of cool air brushing against my skin. This was a hot wind, dragging long tendrils in its wake, slashing at me as it passed by.

 

It was full of evil.

 

The temperature around us suddenly dropped exponentially.

 

Rourke’s nose immediately rose in the air. I heard my father yell a command, but I couldn’t understand what he was saying.

 

Suddenly I was falling, the ground beneath me giving way like it wasn’t even there. I glanced up, my face a mask of surprise. Rourke was shouting, furious, but it sounded like he was talking in slow motion. I couldn’t make out any words. My arms cartwheeled as he reached out for me.

 

Something clamped onto me from behind and I fell backward like a lead weight.

 

Right into her world.

 

 

 

 

 

11

 

 

 

 

 

I landed hard. Onto something soft that uttered a small gasp.

 

“Jeez, you weigh a lot,” a familiar voice sputtered. “What, are your bones made of steel?” Marcy shoved me. “Get off me, Hercules. I can’t suck in a single breath.”

 

I rolled once and sprang up. “Marcy?” I choked. “What are you doing here?”

 

Marcy arched a single eyebrow at me from her position on the ground as she brushed dirt off of her. “Shouldn’t you be asking what we’re doing here?”

 

“Well… technically, yes.” I peered around at our familiar surroundings. We were right inside the same ring of dead trees where we stood yesterday, just ten yards to the right. “But I thought the bokor targeted me on purpose. I’m pretty sure she didn’t mean to bring you along too.”

 

“Of course she didn’t,” Marcy quipped as she stood. “That’s why I held on so tight, like a baby cheetah clinging to her mother’s back.”

 

“Um”—I stifled a laugh—“I’m pretty sure baby cheetahs don’t ride on their moms’ backs, those would be monkeys, and why did you hold on?” I asked suspiciously. “Did you know I was coming here?”

 

She placed her hands on her hips, her red curls swaying. “No. Well, I had no idea. When you started flailing like a fish on a line, I sleuthed it out fairly quickly. Then there was the dramatic temperature drop, always a good cue for danger.” She shrugged. “So I latched on. So what?”

 

I narrowed my eyes. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that? What gives? Spit it out. How did you know to jump on my back?”

 

“Fine,” she sighed in exasperation. “You want to know how? I’ve been in contact with Juanita, that’s how. And she told me exactly what I had to do, down to the baby cheetah claw-you-in-the-back technique. She said I had to come here with you, and that I had to hold on tight, so here we are.” She held a hand up. “And before you start blaming me, she said if I didn’t accompany you here, then you would die. How’s that for a good reason?” She crossed her arms and gave me a look.

 

My mouth opened and I snapped it shut. It was hard to argue with her when she mentioned death. Finally I decided on “Why didn’t you just tell me? How could you keep that from all of us? That’s something the entire Pack should’ve known and decided on. And exactly how has she been in contact with you anyway?”

 

“First, I couldn’t tell you because it was, duh, a secret.” She shook her head at me like I was a clueless baby cheetah. “And second, she only popped back up on my phone last night. She was actually responsible for me finding some of the supplies I needed to brew the spells last night.” Marcy had the decency to look a little sheepish. “And then she gave me some advice on how to make them more potent by using your blood.”

 

I glanced around the alternate reality. “You sneaky little witch.”

 

“I had no choice,” Marcy hedged. “She told me if I uttered a word to anyone, I wouldn’t be here and you would die. I needed to come with you and we needed the spells. I had to trust her—she’s likely a Hag, for cripessake!”

 

I put my hand to my forehead. “James… James is going to kill me.”

 

“No, he’s not”—she bit her lip—“well, he better not. This was my decision. He’s not my mother.” She took a step forward and wagged her finger at me. “And you better listen to me when I say this, and listen closely. This is not a game. If we have any chance at all to defeat this bokor and save Naomi and free Danny, we have to work as a team. We’re all we’ve got. You can’t treat me like I’m breakable or hang back to protect me. This is you and me on a mission—Thelma and Louise style. Do you hear me?”