I hurried behind the cabinet. After a moment, I picked up the clomp of footsteps, heavy and oddly spaced.

A shadow crossed the door. I pulled back, then tried to peek through the crack between the cabinet and the wall, catching only a sliver of the room.

The streetlight coming through the open front door cast a yellowish glow on the floor. A shadow crossed it, jerking and rocking, as if Rose was still following the steps of her strange dance, pulled between opposing forces.

A low gurgling filled the room, then a muttering, words unintelligible. Fabric rustled as Rose started forward again. A moment later, the hem of a long skirt appeared under an almost-equally long overcoat.

Rose staggered, as if losing the war against balance. She swung her other foot up, boot clomping down. So that was the problem. Balance, not the opposing pull of supernatural powers. Something must have been wrong with her leg-

As her far foot lifted for another step, I stared. Beneath the hem of the long gown, there wasn’t a boot, just something long and white, like a cane. Her lower leg bone, no foot attached, strings of dirty flesh hanging off it. The bone came down to meet the floor. A second’s pause as she struggled to get her balance, rocking forward, then back as she launched her good foot up and over, then rested her weight on it.

Dear God, how much willpower did it take to walk like that? But she had to. She’d been summoned, and had to obey.

When her face turned my way, I nearly gasped, biting my lip at the last second to stifle the sound. Her nose was a blackened cavity above another hole that had been her mouth, her teeth bared in a permanent skull-like grimace, her lips gone. Bloodied bone shone through her chin and cheekbones.

As I tried not to whimper, I told myself I was being ridiculous. I’d seen worse. Bodies torn apart by mutts. But they were dead! my brain screamed. Not walking around, living, breathing, conscious-

I pulled back before she saw me, but I moved too fast, and my elbow clanged against the file cabinet. The sound rang out as loud as a gong.

Rose let out something between a roar and a squeal, and started thumping in my direction. I wheeled out from behind the cabinet, and she flew at me, hands up, hooked into claws-bone claws, most of the flesh gone, half of her fingers missing. I veered out of her path, but she kept coming, lurching and lunging, faster than I would have thought possible.

As I backpedaled, one of those bony claws sheered my way. I acted on instinct, hitting the bottom of her arm with an uppercut. Her arm flew up with the blow, then fell limply to her side. Yet she kept coming, her good arm clawing at me.

As I dodged her blows, her limp arm seemed to be slipping…sliding from the sleeve.

Had I knocked her arm off? With a simple blow? Then how the hell was I going to subdue her? If I threw her down, I was liable to rip her in half.

She kept coming, eyes rolling with rage.

“Rose!” I yelled.

She didn’t stop coming at me, stumping forward, good arm clawing the air. When I called again, her gaze met mine, telling me she was still capable of hearing and processing words.

I let her get less than a foot away, then scampered to the other side of the room, leaving her yowling in rage.

“I can keep this up all night, Rose,” I said. “You can’t get me and you know it.”

She only snarled and flung herself toward me. I sidestepped past her. Just walked. Once across the room, I perched on the side of an old metal desk, as if making myself comfortable.

“I can give you what you want, Rose,” I said.

Her lipless mouth opened. Her words came out garbled, but I could make them out. “Good. Then come ’ere.”

“Still got a sense of humor? Pretty soon it’ll be all you have-”

She lunged. I pulled my foot back, caught her in the stomach and shoved as hard as I dared, knocking her to the floor. She didn’t rest for even a second, just struggled to rise on her good leg. As her body jerked with the effort, her severed arm slid to the floor. Seeing it, she let out a howl of rage and frustration.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” I said. “If you can still think as clearly as I believe you can, you know that was an accident. I have no interest in making things any worse for you than they are. All I want is to get Matthew Hull.”

Her eyes rolled up to mine and I knew she recognized the name. Had there been an inkling of doubt in my mind that he was the controller, it evaporated. She stared up at me, unblinking. She couldn’t blink. She didn’t have any eyelids. I forced my gaze away as my stomach rolled.

“What has he promised you if you catch me?” I asked.

“That it’ll stop,” she mumbled.

“So you can die in peace.”

Her body went rigid. “No. Not-can’t die. I’ll go to ’Ell.” She shuddered. “This is better. Close the gate. No more…it’ll stop.”

“The rotting you mean.”

“It’ll ’eal.”

“Heal? Is that what he told you? Maybe so, but is he planning to regrow all those parts you’ve lost? Your foot? Your lips? Arm? Nose? Eyelids? What you really want is peace, isn’t it? To die and go someplace peaceful, where you’ll be whole again. I can make sure that happens.”

She made a hiccuping noise that, after a moment, I realized was laughter.

“You don’t believe me? I have someone here who can help. The one who summoned you. She can make sure you cross over.”

“And go straight to bleedin’ ’Ell,” she snarled. “After all I’ve done, where else would I go?”