Sisters of Salt and Iron (The Sisters of Blood and Spirit, #2)

I nodded at Joe. His eyes widened. I must have looked very different to him in this form. Look for Noah. The thought drifted from my mind to his. He raised his hand—he had heard me.

Many of the living ran for the exit like frightened sheep, bunching up at the narrow exit, making themselves easy targets for predators. One such possessed ran by me, and I caught him by the collar, dragging him back until I could dangle him in front of me—a fish on a hook.

“Release this person,” I commanded. The spirit slid free. He was shaggy and dirty and smelled of...patchouli.

“Woodstock,” I murmured, setting the bewildered human aside. What was left of the spirit’s one eye turned toward me. The iron-burnt flesh widened.

“What the hell are you?” he asked.

I smiled, placing my hands on either side of his head. “I’m where you end, little one.”

He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a squeak. I held him gently, as a mother might, shushing him as he struggled. His form shriveled in my hands, flaking like paper as I drained him of all his energy. I took his essence into myself like a long drink of cool water, until he was nothing but old dust caught up in a breeze and taken away.

I dusted his remains from my hands and rose. Humans and spirits ran in all directions around me, but my stride never altered. They moved for me.

A ghost with a badly burned face, her hair in patches, had her hands around the throat of a girl I recognized. Roxi. My friend. She had her up against the side of a building, slamming her against the rough brick. I recognized the ghost as the girl who had been on fire and I’d saved—the same girl whose skull I had lit on fire thinking it was Noah’s.

I didn’t even think, I simply acted, driving my fist through the bodice of the ghost’s Victorian gown and out the other side of her. She crumbled away with a sigh, and I took in what was left. Where she went now was out of my control.

“Peaceful rest,” I whispered. She deserved it.

I offered Roxi my hand. She had fallen when the girl released her. Warm fingers closed around mine.

“Lark?” Roxi said, as I helped her up. “Wren?”

“Yes,” I said. I smiled. “It’s complicated.”

She looked wary. “Uh, yeah. Okay.”

“Please, don’t be afraid,” I told her. “I won’t hurt you. I couldn’t. You’re my friend.”

Dark eyes met mine. “What color underwear am I wearing?”

A test? We were in the middle of a battle, and she tested me? “Purple. You don’t own any other color.”

She grinned. “Right. Okay, let’s go.”

“Stay with me, and you’ll be safe.” Then, I started forward again. I found Gage and Mace, as well. Gage had lost his beard, and his sweet face was bruised, one eye swollen, but he was otherwise unharmed. Mace bled from a cut above his eye, and there was an angry red mark on his jaw.

“Olgilvie,” he explained when he caught me looking. “He took a swing when I showed up with the cops.”

“Did they find Laura?” I asked.

He nodded, his expression turning grim. “He’d already uncovered part of her when we arrived.” And he had seen it. Poor thing.

I reached out and touched his face. He gasped but didn’t pull away. The cut and welt disappeared. Then, I touched Gage and Roxi as well, healing their injuries.

“Follow me,” I said. They fell into step behind me.

Every step filled me with more energy. This ground was steeped in it. I could feel its suffering in the soles of my feet and in my heart. The injustice of it angered me. I wanted to weep from the pain. So many spirits had suffered so much here.

A young woman ran in front of me, screaming as two laughing male ghosts chased after her. I cut them both down mid-stride. She didn’t notice and ran off still screaming.

“The living can be such douche bags,” I murmured. “Where are Ben and Kevin?”

“They went toward the stage,” Mace replied. “Ben stayed with Kevin in case Noah showed up.”

Ben. So brave and good. If Noah harmed him I would make him suffer a long time for it.

Finally, I stood before the stage. Security had come and ushered the singer and the rest of the band to safety, so the only other people on the stage were Joe, Noah and Kevin.

Ben was on the ground in front of the stage. On his back. Unmoving.

“Come any closer and I’ll kill him!” Noah shouted. He had his arm locked around Kevin’s neck, his hand curved into talons over his heart, ready to tear flesh and bone apart.

“Be quiet,” I commanded. “I will deal with you in a moment.” I went to Ben and crouched beside him. He wasn’t one of mine. Not yet. And though he’d have a nasty headache when he woke up, there was no permanent damage done. I picked him up and carried him to where Roxi, Gage and Mace stood; the boys took him from me, staring at me in awe and wonder. And all because I’d lifted Ben as though he weighed no more than a child.

To me he didn’t even weigh that.

Kady Cross's books