So I sank down on my knees in front of Vance. Devon and Felix moved their lights so that they were focused on Vance’s chest instead of glaring straight into his face. I drew in another breath, let it out, and moved over so that my eyes were directly in front of Vance’s.
My gaze locked with his, and his pain knifed straight through my heart.
Over and over again, a dagger lashed out, cutting Vance’s arms and legs and chest. Every time he tried to move, to run, to get away, he would see the black gleam of the dagger out of the corner of his eye. Then the weapon would erupt out of the shadows and slice into him again—and again—and again.
He couldn’t yell, not with that duct tape over his mouth, and he couldn’t fight back, since his hands were tied together. But I could hear his silent screams in my head as he staggered through the woods. No, no, no, no!
And that wasn’t the only thing I could hear.
Soft, heartless laughter accompanied every single swipe of the blade, and it didn’t stop. Not even for a second. Instead, the laughter got louder and louder, the more pain Vance was in, the more cuts were inflicted on him, the more he suffered.
It was the most horrible sound I’d ever heard.
I gasped, trying to look away from Vance’s sightless eyes, desperate to wrench my gaze from his, but I couldn’t—I just couldn’t.
A choked sob escaped my lips, and more and more pain spread through my entire body, tearing through my skin and muscles one at a time as though that dagger were slicing through me instead of Vance—
Suddenly, Devon was there, pulling my face into his chest and away from Vance’s awful, awful gaze.
“It’s okay,” Devon said, rocking me back and forth the way he might a child. “It’s okay. It happened to him, not you. You’re safe, Lila. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
I buried my face against his chest, not even trying to hold back my sobs anymore. Devon’s hand slid through my hair, trying to soothe me. I shuddered and let him hold me.
But all the while, that terrible, terrible laughter echoed in my head.
The same cruel, evil laughter I’d heard when we’d found that murdered tree troll behind the dumpster on the Midway.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Felix called his dad and told Angelo what was going on. We stayed with Vance until the rest of the Sinclairs showed up. Claudia, Angelo, Reginald, Mo, Oscar. They all came, along with several guards, and they all stared at Vance’s body, as shocked and horrified as the three of us.
I told Claudia and the others what I’d seen when I’d used my soulsight on Vance, and she and Mo put their heads together, wondering who might have done this. But I hadn’t seen the killer, only heard that sick, sick laughter. I hadn’t liked Vance, and he hadn’t liked me either, but Devon was right. Vance hadn’t deserved this—this level of heartless cruelty. And now, I couldn’t even tell Claudia who had murdered him.
I felt like a complete and utter failure.
I didn’t dare look at Vance again, not even for a second, so Devon put his arm around my shoulder and led me out of the woods, with Felix on my other side and Oscar fluttering around us. We got into one of the Sinclair SUVs, and Reginald drove us home.
Devon made sure that I got to my room okay, then handed me off to Oscar, who ordered me to take a hot shower, put on some pajamas, and get into bed. I did as the pixie asked, even though I felt disconnected from my own body as though someone else were going through the motions for me.
Oscar fussed over me, pulling the sheets and comforter all the way up to my chin. Then he flew over to his trailer, rustled around inside, and came back out with a pixie sword. It was no bigger than a needle, but a dull stain on the end told me that it had been dipped in poison, probably copper crusher venom. Poison was often the only way pixies could survive against larger mortals, magicks, and monsters.
Oscar fluttered back over and landed on my nightstand. “Don’t you worry about a thing, cupcake. I’m going to keep watch tonight. Ain’t nobody getting to you the way they did to Vance. Tiny will stand watch too, won’t you, Tiny?”
Over in his corral, the tortoise let out a low, huffing noise that sounded like a yes, his black eyes strangely bright in his green face.
Oscar saluted me with his sword, then started marching back and forth on my nightstand, moving from one side to the other with quick, precise movements, like a soldier standing guard.
The idea of him watching over me was comforting, and I fell asleep with the steady clack-clack-clack of his cowboy boots ringing in my ears.
I didn’t think that I would rest at all, much less sleep, but I didn’t wake up until Oscar nudged my shoulder the next morning.
“What’s going on?” I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep. “What’s wrong?”
The pixie looked at me, his violet eyes dark and serious. “Claudia wants everyone down in the dining hall ASAP.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the black duffel bag sitting on the coffee table. “I’ve already got your stuff packed up for the tournament.”