I stopped and pinned it with a look of disdain. “Then why are we still discussing this? What do I have to do?”
“You must first consider something. It will burn a large portion of the remaining energy you have. The energy that ties you to this body. It will shorten your time here.”
There wasn’t anything to consider. If there was a way for my body to wake up and make sure that thing didn’t hurt Sam, then there was no other choice. “Whatever. We’re wasting time.”
“Agreed.” The smoky figure drifted to the middle of the small room. “Because I was the one in control when the spell was cast, I am the one affected. I believe that if I allow you to temporarily regain control, you will wake.”
Control. Even temporarily, it sounded like heaven. Even if it cost me a handful of the moments I had left. If I was going to die, if those moments needed to be sacrificed, at least it would be saving Sam.
“What are we waiting for? Tell me what to do,” I demanded.
“You will need to focus. Concentrate on your heart. Make it beat faster. Feel your limbs, the hardness of the floor. Move them. First a finger, then your hand. Slowly bring your body back to consciousness.”
“Oh,” I said with a snort. “Is that all?”
“I imagine there is little time. A simple witch spell would not cause the Tracker to be down for long.”
It was trying to motivate me as it had Sam. By using fear—and it worked. I closed my eyes and pictured my body lying unconscious on the floor next to Sam. But focusing on me, on moving my limbs and standing, wasn’t what did the trick. It was her. I pictured myself moving my hand, threading my fingers through hers. I imagined waking up and standing, gently lifting her off the ground, and getting her someplace safe.
My head swam with an underlying twinge, almost like a slight hangover, as I opened my eyes. One finger. Two. My right hand… With more effort than it should have taken, I pushed onto my knees and surveyed the room. Everything was a little watery around the edges, the spell still undoubtedly unwilling to release me completely, but I saw Sam a few feet away—and the Tracker.
It was still unmoving, but there was a horrible sound coming from its body, like tearing flesh and snapping bone. The Tracker’s head had split open, but instead of brains—or whatever the fuck it was these things had stored inside their heads—spilling out, the wound mended to form not one head, but two. Azi had been right. It was splitting.
With a determined grunt, I forced myself upright and bent over Sam. A small part of me wondered how I was still in control. Maybe my body was still too impaired—or maybe Azi was feeling generous. Whatever the reason, I used it to my advantage, scooped her off the floor, and stumbled from the room.
It took several tries—along with what would more than likely become a collection of bruises from crashing into walls—but I finally managed to get us outside. The park security was setting up a blockade around the perimeter, but they ignored me, probably assuming I was just another patron who’d been caught inside when the chaos erupted.
I sank onto a quiet bench in the shade, around the corner from the attraction, and cradled Sam’s head in my lap. I couldn’t stop touching her. Her hair. Her face. Tracing the outline of her lips… And when she finally stirred and looked up at me with those amazing brown eyes, nothing else mattered.
“Sammy…” There was so much more I wanted to say, but that single word was the last thing I was able to push past my lips. The park spun, a violent swirl of colors and dizzying motion, and when it all cleared, I was back to the passenger’s seat and Azi was driving the bus.
Sam struggled upright and made a fist. She punched my arm hard and glowered. “I told you never to call me that.”
“My apologies,” the demon responded. It stood and took a step away from the bench.
Fucker…
It ignored me and focused on her. “Are you harmed?”
She rubbed her head and shrugged. “I feel like someone slipped me a roofie, but other than that, I’m good. What was that in there?”
“This girl is a witch.”
The disgust on Sam’s face was undisguisable. “You’ve gotta be shitting me. Another one?”
There was a slight flare of irritation, but the demon let it go. Azi dug into my pocket and produced the knife again. “We need to find—”
“Whoa!” Sam hopped off the bench and positioned herself in front of my body, standing way too close for my comfort. “You cannot whip out a knife in the middle of an amusement park!”
“Why?”
She blinked. “Well, first of all, do you remember the little Tracker debacle at the Haunted House? Security is gonna be going balls to the wall looking for threats.” She glanced over her shoulder, then back to me. “Plus, there are kids running around. You are not going to traumatize some child by hacking into my boyfriend’s skin.”
“And you intend to supply an alternative?”
“Yeah,” she said, hauling me off the bench. “A little subtlety goes a long, long way.”