“Stay back!”
His voice brought me up short, sharp and desperate. Ash struggled to his knees, arms around his stomach, shaking with agonized gasps. Blood pooled around him as he raised his head, eyes bright with anguish. “Stay back, Meghan,” he gritted out, a line of red trickling from his mouth. “I could…still kill you. Let me be.” He grimaced, closing his eyes, one hand clutching at his skull. “I can still…feel it,” he rasped, shuddering. “It’s in…shock now, but…it’s getting strong again.” He gasped, clenching his teeth in pain. “Dammit, Goodfellow. You could’ve…made it clean. Hurry and get it over with.”
“No!” I cried, flinging myself down beside him. He flinched away from me, and I caught his shoulder.
It was like touching an electric fence, without the shock. I felt a rush of sharp, metallic glamour coming from Ash, buzzing in my ears and vibrating my senses. I felt something inside me respond, like a current beneath my skin, rushing up to my fingertips, and suddenly everything was much clearer. If glamour was raw emotion and passion, this was the absence of it: logical, calculating, impassive. I felt all my fear, panic and desperation drain away, and I looked at Ash with a new curiosity. This was a problem, but how was I going to fix it? How would I solve this equation?
“Meghan, run.” Ash’s voice was strangled, and that was all the warning I had before his eyes went glassy and his hands fastened around my throat, cutting off my air. I gasped and clawed at his fingers, staring into his blank eyes as a sharp, droning voice echoed through my head.
Kill you.
I gasped airlessly, fighting to stay calm, to stay connected to that cold, impassive glamour buzzing under my skin. As I stared into his eyes, I could see the bug, its hateful glare peering back at me. I could see its round, ticklike body, clamped to the top of Ash’s spine, the metal parasite that was killing him. I could hear it, and I knew it could hear me, too.
“Meghan!” Puck snatched the ice sword from where it lay, forgotten, and raised it over his head.
“Puck, don’t.” My voice came out raspy, but calm. I fought for air and felt Ash’s grip loosen the tiniest bit. He closed his eyes, breaking my connection with the bug, but I could still feel the iron glamour, buzzing all around me. He was fighting its commands, his face tight with concentration, sweat running down his skin.
“Do it,” he rasped, and I realized he spoke to Puck, not me.
“No!” I met Puck’s conflicted gaze, saw the sword waver as he swept it toward Ash. “Puck, don’t! Trust me!”
My vision was getting fuzzy. I didn’t have much time. Praying Puck would hesitate a little longer, I turned back to Ash, laying my palm against his cheek. “Ash,” I said, hoping my mangled voice would get through to him, “look at me, please.”
He didn’t respond at first, his fingers shaking as he fought the compulsion to crush my throat. When he did look up, the raw anguish, horror and torment on his face was agonizing. But, beyond his pain-filled eyes, I could see the parasite as it tightened its hold on him. My will rose up to meet it, iron glamour swirling around us. I shaped that glamour into a command, and sent it lancing into the metal bug.
Let go, I told it, putting as much force into the words as I could.
It buzzed furiously and clamped down hard, and Ash cried out in agony. His fingers on my throat tightened, crushing my windpipe and turning my world red with pain. I sagged, fighting to stay conscious, seeing darkness crawling along the edge of my vision. No! I told it. I will not lose to you. I will not give him up! Let go!
The bug hissed again…and loosened its hold, still fighting me all the way. I put my shaking hand against Ash’s chest, over his heart, feeling it crash against his ribs. Ash’s grip tightened once more, and the world started to go black. Get out, I snarled with the last of my strength. Get out of him, now!
A crackle and a flash of light, and Ash convulsed, shoving me away. I fell against the cold floor, striking my head against the ice, blackness momentarily blinding me. Fighting for consciousness, I saw a glint of light, of something tiny and metallic, fly up toward the ceiling, and Ash staring at his hands in horror. The metal spark hovered in the air a moment, than zipped toward me with a furious buzz.
Puck’s hand shot out, snatching the bug from the air, hurling it to the floor. For a split second, it lay there glinting coldly against the ice. Then his boot smashed down and ground the bug into oblivion.
I struggled upright, breathing hard, waiting for the room to stop spinning. Puck knelt in front of me, one shoulder covered in blood, his whole body tense with concern.