“I just want to try to save their lives,” she said.

“I know.”

The sense of the lonely presence at the front of the boat became too agonizing for her to resist. She squeezed Michael’s arm. “I’m going to keep Nicholas company, if he’ll let me.”

Michael nodded without reply.

She made her way out of the cabin and toward the front of the boat. Think nautical. The prow. The edges of her poncho whipped in the wind, and she was grateful that she had grabbed it.

Nicholas’s energy was stretched so thin, he was barely present. She felt him straining in the direction of his father and nephew. She tried to think of something to say, but in the end, she remained silent. She simply stood at the prow with him. His presence grew stronger, and he wrapped around her, as if holding on to her helped to keep him anchored in place.

After several minutes, the boat tipped drastically as the water swelled underneath them. The swell turned into a high, narrow wave that built in size and speed, until they hurtled forward much faster than they could have ever hoped to go by themselves.

Hope surged, along with their speed.

Astra had convinced the Lake to help them again.

Chapter Twenty

THE MINUTES SCROLLED past. Each one was filled with an agony of waiting.

They raced across the water much faster than Mary would have believed possible if she hadn’t experienced it for herself. Her hands and face grew wet and cold, but she refused to go inside. If Nicholas needed to be out here, then she would stay with him.

A shadow grew on the tip of the horizon, and Nicholas stirred. That’s the mainland. I need to find out how close they’ve come to land.

His energy had changed. Now he felt sharp and eager.

She said out loud, “Be careful.”

I will. I’ll be back as soon as I know anything.

He vanished.

Shivering, she turned to make her way back to the cabin, taking extra care because they were traveling at such a crazy speed. A fall into the water at this pace would almost certainly kill someone.

Michael gave her a sharp look as she stepped inside. The tough lines of his face had settled into grim lines.

She joined him at the wheel. “What is it?”

“You’ve grown quite attached to him, haven’t you?”

She used the excuse of wiping off her hands and face with the dry underside of the blanket, so she could think about how to reply.

Were there nuances in his question? She thought there might be nuances.

But they had no time to explore nuances. They had no idea what they would be facing over the next hour, so in the end she chose to keep her answer simple.

“I have,” she said. “He’s a special man.”

“Yes, he is,” said Mr. Enigmatic.

Nicholas exploded into the cabin. They are close to shore. There are two drones stationed at the dock.

“Time to get ready,” Michael said. Mary jumped as he hooked an arm around her. He hauled her in front of him. “Take the helm, and keep it steady on course. The Lake might be shoving us in the right direction, but if we angle too sharply to either side, we could capsize.”

“Okay.” When she took hold of the wheel, power vibrated up her wrists. It was harder than she had expected to hold the wheel steady. She widened her stance and leaned forward, bracing her body to take the strain.

Michael stepped outside and made his way to the prow. The railing around the boat was simple metal fastened directly onto the deck. He knelt, took the rifle and braced the barrel on the top railing.

Adrenaline strung out her nerves until she felt tight as a wire. They hurtled forward at an impossible pace, toward the Deceiver, and toward more drones with guns. She clamped down on her fear. Her mind shut down until the only thing that existed was the race over the water, and her battle to keep the boat on a steady, straight path.

The shadow on the horizon expanded with dizzying rapidity. Motorboats and sailboats dotted the water in all directions. She broke out in a sweat as details on the mainland became visible. Tree-covered hills swooped along the shoreline, and she caught a glimpse of houses through the trees.

Nicholas whirled onto the boat. There—do you see them? he demanded. They’re just ahead. The drones are waiting in a black SUV at the end of the road by the dock.

She looked down the faint shimmer of Nicholas’s arm as he pointed, and then she could see the old motorboat with two people in it, chugging unhurriedly through the water. They were perhaps a hundred yards away from the dock.

She could also see the black SUV, parked in a wide gravel area at the end of a neighborhood road that ran up an incline into a cluster of trees and houses.

Michael? she asked telepathically. He was too far away to talk to verbally.

Hold steady, he said.

His shoulders tightened as he bent his head over the barrel of the rifle. Whatever Michael was aiming for, it was an impossible shot to try to take. The boat bucked rhythmically and they were still a good two hundred yards away from Jerry and Jamie’s motorboat. They were even farther from the shore.

A sharp sound cracked the air. It was only after the passenger window of the SUV exploded that she realized Michael had taken his first shot.

All the while they raced closer, straight at the shore.

The passenger door of the SUV opened at the same time someone leaped out of the driver’s seat, crouched behind the vehicle and aimed a gun over the hood in their direction.

Here we go, she thought. She started to shake.

The drone that had been in the passenger’s seat jumped out and raced to the back of the vehicle. Another crack sounded as Michael shot again. This time a spray of water kicked up beside the other motorboat.

She whispered to Nicholas, “Was that a shot from Michael?”

He’s trying to get their attention, the ghost said.

The scene on the shore grew bigger as they drew closer, and she could pick out more details. She could see the glint of sunlight winking off the sunglasses of the drone behind the hood of the SUV. After opening up the back door, the second drone ran behind the vehicle and joined the first with a rifle.

The wave that had been propelling them forward died down, and so did their hectic speed. The intense vibration eased at the wheel, and the sound of the boat’s motor grew louder as it engaged.

Part of the window blew in. Dots of pain flared along the side of her face. She twisted away from the flying glass with a gasp and lost hold of the wheel. When she straightened, a spiderweb of fractures had exploded over the rest of the glass, obscuring her vision.

Michael leaped into the cabin, rifle held in one hand. He punched out the glass with the rifle’s butt. He barked, “There’s blood on your face. Are you hit again?”

She wiped the side of her wet face. There were three points of pain. Mentally she probed at the areas. They were all shallow cuts.

“Glass shards,” she said. She grabbed for the wheel. “I’m fine.”

He raced out, knelt at the railing again and fired off a few more shots. More windows shattered in the SUV. One of the drones had disappeared from sight, but the one with the rifle was still shooting.

Only this time the drone shot at Jerry and Jamie’s motorboat. She saw that they had begun to turn away from shore. Splashes of water arced around them.

“Come on,” she whispered, willing their boat to move faster.

How long would it take for them to get out of gunshot range? And where was the Deceiver? For Nicholas to be so panicked, he couldn’t be too far away, and he would be drawn by the gun battle.

We have to draw fire away from them, Michael said. Take us in a circle between their boat and shore.

She fit her foot to the boot-sized gas pedal and gunned it. The engine roared and the wind whipped her face as the boat leaped forward, while Michael kept up a steady spray of gunfire, pausing only to exchange his empty clip for a full one.

Nicholas had left her again. They came abreast of the other boat, which was headed in the opposite direction. She could only spare a worried glance for them. Jamie had slumped to one side, and Jerry had taken the seat at the helm. Red sprayed the open interior of their boat.

Oh, no.

Then they blew past Jerry and Jamie. She spun the wheel, feeling the tension as the boat turned in a wide arc, spraying a tall wave of water. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw another black SUV roar down the hill of the neighborhood street toward the dock.

Her stomach lurched, and she forgot to telepathize. She shouted, “Do you see them?”

I see them, said Michael. He didn’t lift his head from the rifle or stop shooting. Take us out again.

She kept the boat in a tight arc until they were headed away from shore. Then she aimed for the other boat. When she looked over her shoulder one last time, she saw the approaching SUV swerve sharply to the left and crash into a clump of trees and bushes.

After another few moments, Michael stopped shooting and ran into the cabin.

“We’re out of range,” he said. “I disabled as many boats on the pier as I could, but there were a couple toward the shore that I couldn’t draw a bead on. They could try to follow us.”

Her chest had tightened, and she forced herself to take in deeper breaths. She said through gritted teeth, “Tell me he was in that SUV that crashed.”

“I think he was, although they weren’t going fast enough to kill anybody. More’s the pity.” Michael gripped her by the back of the neck. She thought it was as much to steady him as it was to steady her.

“I could say that’s got to be the craziest thing I’ve ever experienced, but I’ve already been saying that for several days now.” She gave him an anguished look. “I think Jamie’s hurt.”

His expression tightened. “We need to get them transferred to this boat and leave the area as quick as we can.” He stepped behind her to place his hands beside hers on the wheel, and he nudged her foot off the gas pedal.

As he took control, she sagged back against him. He held the wheel with one hand, slipping another around her waist to hug her tight against his torso as his cheek came down on top of her head.

Leaning back against his strong, steady body felt so good. She cupped the hand that he flattened against her waist and tried not to think too far ahead to their next conversation. If this moment was all she would get, she was going to soak up as much of it as she could.

She squinted against the spray of wind and water, watching as they drew close to the others. “Do you think he’ll follow us?”

“I don’t know. It depends on how much reinforcement he has with him. He’ll weigh the risks just like Astra did. I can maintain the null space around us, which should discourage him. We’ll be a lot more difficult to track in the open water than we would be traveling down predefined highways on land.”

They had approached within hailing distance of the other boat. Jerry looked over his shoulder and waved at them. He shouted, “Jamie’s been shot!”

Michael eased them into a slower speed. He shouted back, “Cut your motor.”

Mary took the wheel again when he nudged her. The other boat slowed to a stop, rocking gently in the waves. “Just hold it steady,” he said. “Don’t use any gas. Let us coast up to them. I’ll get them on board, then take the helm again, while you help Jamie.”

“All right.”

She tried to hold them on a steady course. They came up alongside the others. Their hulls scraped as the waves rocked them together. Michael threw a rope to Jerry who caught and swiftly tied them together. Then he tossed a rope ladder to the older man.

“Can you climb aboard on your own?” he asked. “I’ll get Jamie.”

Jerry said, “Yes.”

Mary twisted to watch what was happening. She was in time to see Michael gather himself and leap like a great cat from their bigger boat to the smaller one.

Jerry’s head appeared as he climbed the ladder, his face scored with deep lines and his eyes stark. With the boats moored together, she let go of the steering wheel and rushed to help him climb the rest of the way aboard.

When he straightened, she put an arm around him and nudged him toward the galley. “Are you shot?”

“No.” The pain in his eyes was palpable. “The boy is bad off.”

“I understand.” She took a moment to scan his heart. The spike in stress hadn’t helped him at all, but her earlier handiwork held. She told him, “We had a rough trip last night, and things are a mess down below. Make a place where we can set Jamie when Michael gets him aboard, will you?”

“Of course.” Jerry ducked his head and stepped through the hatch.

In the other boat, Michael had bent over Jamie’s sprawled form where she could also see that Nicholas’s presence hovered. Blood was everywhere, down Jamie’s head and all over his front. Michael gathered the boy in his arms, squatted and lunged into the air.

He cleared the railing with inches to spare, landed at a crouch and straightened. “It’s a head wound.”

“Take him below,” she said.

Jerry had cleared the tangle of blankets off the pile of mattresses by the time they got downstairs. He stood and flattened against the wall to give Michael enough room to ease Jamie’s body prone on a bare mattress. Mary wriggled between the two men and knelt by Jamie’s head. Nicholas knelt on the other side.

Jerry asked Michael, “How did you know to come for us?”

“Nicholas told us,” Michael said.

She ignored him and the others, and focused solely on Jamie. She parted his matted, wet hair, looking for the wound. Her fingers found it before her eyes did. Gently she probed at the area.

Her heart sank as she realized the bullet had penetrated his skull. Mortality rates for penetrating brain injuries were over ninety-two percent. Still, she tried to hold out hope as she sent her awareness into his body.