But it was not my own pain.
Oliver! I shrieked with my mind. Stop! For this hurt was his. This was his soul-deep rage at Marcus. . . . No, at Elijah. It coursed through me like worms. Stop, Oliver. Stop!
I fell forward, my hands flying out. . . .
The blackness rushed back, but it was too late. I hit the wet cobblestones. My palms ripped open. The crystal clamp clattered away from me—straight to Marcus.
Casually he kicked it to the opposite end of the intersection. Then he laughed, a rumbling sound of genuine amusement. I remembered that sound from Laurel Hill. I remembered it from my nightmares. I pushed unsteadily to my feet.
“You think to stop me, Mamzel?” Marcus’s heavy Creole accent oozed through the rain and over the crack of Joseph’s electricity. “You think that you and Joseph”—Marcus hissed the name with venom—“can fight me? Do you not see the extent of my army?”
“We see your army,” I growled. “We are not afraid.” With a rough swipe at my pants—blood streaked and the skin ripped wider. It felt good. “You kidnapped Jie. Why?”
“Because I have a weakness for the beautiful.” He threw an almost fond smile at Jie. She stood as immobile and disinterested as a statue. “Does she not look lovely? I have enjoyed her company so much—”
“What have you done to her?” The words screeched from my throat. I lunged two desperate steps toward him.
Without thinking, I drew my magic into a well, let it pulse into my chest. If Marcus had laid a hand on Jie—if he had touched her in any way, I would destroy him right now. I didn’t care about Marseille or the Spirit-Hunters. If Marcus had violated Jie, he would die now.
As if reading my thoughts, Marcus’s lips curved into a smile, and his eyes crinkled to glowing, yellow slits. He crooked one finger, an invitation to attack.
White blinked at the corner of my vision—Daniel. He stood just behind Jie, a knife in hand. I forced myself to ignore him. Forced my eyes to stay locked on Marcus’s. Forced my magic to stay contained.
“You,” I said to Marcus, “will pay. In Philadelphia, I promised to send you to the hottest pits of hell, and I meant every word.” My voice trickled out, a bare whisper beneath the rain. As I hoped, Marcus took a step closer. Then another. He looked as smug as ever—always in control—yet he did want to know what I said. He liked hearing his prey’s final words.
It was as he took his third step toward me that Daniel struck. A blur of white, then a pistol shot.
Marcus flinched, but either he did not realize Daniel’s proximity or he did not consider Daniel a threat. He continued to stalk toward me.
“Resiste,” I murmured beneath my breath, never breaking my stare with Marcus. I fixed my thoughts on whatever sick power kept Jie trapped in place . . . and my magic slid through my body to trickle off my fingertips
But I never looked away from Marcus.
He thought this would end today, and as much as I wanted it to—wanted to shred that smile off his face and feel his flesh beneath my fingernails—I felt a deep satisfaction at his inevitable disappointment. It was time he chased me. It was time for me to be in charge.
So, smiling, I finally let my eyes drift from Marcus’s unnatural face—just as Jie, her gown rustling and her face streaming with bright-red blood and rain, swept up behind him. In a single, vicious movement, she slammed her cupped palms over his ears. Then her foot kicked up between his legs. Into his groin.
A cry burst from Marcus’s lips, but when he whirled around to attack, his face met Daniel’s knife. With unnatural speed, Marcus slipped backward—out of Daniel’s or Jie’s reach. But I did not miss the sway in his step. Jie’s blow had landed where it needed to.
“Go!” I bellowed at Jie and Daniel. I pointed to the harbor. “Go!”
Then, before Marcus could try to recover, I attacked.
I don’t know how the magic came to me—like it always seemed to be, it was an instinctive pull. A natural understanding. A gentle slash at the nearest corpses to snip their leashes . . . and then bind them to me.
“Attack,” I whispered. “Attack.” Four corpses turned away from their steady march at me and aimed for Marcus instead.
Then another pistol popped. Blood burst in Marcus’s chest, and I had enough time to see Daniel’s arm lower—and then grab hold of Jie. Together, they raced away, toward the harbor.
Meanwhile, my corpses shuffled toward Marcus—distracting him from healing his chest wound. Then Joseph’s power cracked into the intersection. He and Oliver had arrived.
The world spun before me, and my heart was a husk of exhaustion. Yet my legs carried me away from Marcus and after the rapidly fading figures of Jie and Daniel.
Until I rounded a building and came face-to-face with a wall of corpses. Their gray arms were outstretched, and bone fingers clawed for me.