"Dunno ... saw it from the corner of my eye."
"Bat?"
"Bigger."
They walked on, glancing nervously behind them in case whatever it was came in for a second run.
It did, but not from behind.
A shadow emerged from the darkness before them and wrapped itself around Liz's head. She screamed, but her voice was muffled and then drowned out completely as the banshee screeched. Its sound was thunderous and desolate, and it drove Hellboy to his knees. Liz thrashed around, desperate to keep her footing, waving at her head and pummeling at the hazy shape that enveloped her. It coalesced into the image of a woman, and as Liz stumbled out from a tree's shadow, moonlight illuminated the spirits face. It was an old woman, face gray and heavily lined, mouth open wide, and lips pulled down into an image of abject misery. It looked directly at Hellboy and cried, its voice vibrating through his bones and setting his right hand shaking. He screamed, clasped his fingers tight, fisted his hand, and punched at the ground. He did not hear the impact. The banshee's voice was everything.
"Liz!" Hellboy shouted. "Down onto your knees!" But even his booming voice was drowned out by the spirit's wail, and he forced himself to stand and stumble into Liz. She sprawled to the concrete path, hands still flapping at the ghost wrapped around her head, legs kicking, and Hellboy began to wonder whether she was able to breathe in there. Slow suffocation, he thought.
Something shimmered around Liz's hands and feet, and it was not starlight.
"Oh, lady, now you've pissed her off," Hellboy said.
The banshee seemed to grab on tighter, and then it rose slowly from the ground, Liz still wrapped in its arms and legs. Hellboy leaped and grabbed its wrinkled gray cloak. Still the banshee and Liz rose, their ascent slowed but not halted by Hellboy's grasp. They were above his head now, his arm pointing straight up, the spirits cloak wrapped in his big hand.
"Oh, no you don't!" he said, and pulled down sharply. He felt his feet leave the ground, and a sudden sense of panic shocked him. He did not know were it came from — he'd been dropped from heights before — but his hand snapped open, and he felt the tickle of the cloak passing across his palm. "Oh no you don't!" Hellboy squatted, bunching muscles, and jumped as high as he could. This time he grabbed hold of Liz's ankles, one in each hand, and his weight brought her back down. The banshee shrieked again, its voice changing from miserable to angry.
And then something in Liz gave way. Whatever dam she maintained, whatever pressure valve she had been able to apply to her curse over the years, finally broke. The flickering flames on her feet and hands bloomed into expanding balls of fire, crawling up her legs and down her arms. She still batted at the insane creature hanging on to her head, but the spirit was slippery and insubstantial, not something that could be simply punched away.
Hellboy let go and dropped to the ground. This was Liz's show now.
The banshee rose again, taking the burning Liz Sherman with it. Flames erupted all across the firestarter's body, engulfing the banshee with no apparent effect, and for the first time Hellboy truly feared for Liz. The higher she went, the harder she'd fall, and while her furious fires could aid her in some instances, in this case ...
The banshee breathed fire. Its cloak erupted in flames, its hair became a burning snake dance, and its eyes grew wide before popping and melting from its head.
"Oh, that's gotta hurt," Hellboy said. He shifted to the side, positioned himself below Liz, and seconds later caught her as she dropped from the banshee's grasp. Her flames wrapped themselves around him, scorching his skin and sizzling his goatee.
"Hey, put out the fire," he said. Liz's eyes sprang open — he saw the terror in them, the rich flame of panic — and it seemed to take several seconds before she recognized him.