Jeth raised his hand, ready to hit him again, ready to leave him bloody and unconscious. But he held back as an inhuman howl issued from Danforth’s throat.

“Please,” he said, pushing himself into a sitting position. “Please, Jeth. Please don’t tell Hammer.” Danforth reached toward him, the gesture one of supplication instead of threat. “Please don’t tell him.”

Jeth took a step back, his stomach churning as he watched a tendril of black liquid slip from Danforth’s nose and into his mouth.

“Please, Jeth, please.” Danforth slowly got to his feet, his whole body trembling from something more than fear.

“It’s too late.” Pity and revulsion twisted inside Jeth’s chest like snakes. “He already knows.”

Danforth shrieked, the sound a piercing strike against Jeth’s eardrums. Then, with surprising speed, Danforth leaped forward, crashing into him. Jeth stumbled and went down, Danforth on top of him, his stinking, rotted breath hot on his face, choking him.

Danforth was a thing possessed, not man but force—desperation and madness made flesh. He clawed at Jeth’s face, trying to gouge out his eyes. Jeth fought back, dropping the ruby as he moved to protect his face. Danforth reared up, his mouth open and teeth bared.

He’s going to bite me, Jeth thought, horrified.

“Get him off!”

But Shady was already there, trying to grab hold of Danforth’s thrashing limbs. Danforth struck Shady in the nose with one wild punch, and Jeth heard the crack as it broke. Shady bellowed in pain and stumbled backward.

Flynn came at him next, but he stood little chance, still weakened from the stunner blow. Danforth struck him in the temple and he went down.

Jeth managed to get his hands on Danforth’s shoulder, holding him off but just barely. He was bigger than Danforth, but the fervor of Danforth’s addiction-fueled madness lent him unnatural strength. A wet heat slid down Jeth’s face, blood from where Danforth’s nails had cut him.

Danforth continued to thrash, his strength unrelenting. Jeth tilted his head back as far as he could, trying to keep it out of danger. Above and behind him, he saw Lizzie standing with the stunner gripped in her shaking hands, fear etched across her face.

“Shoot him!” Jeth screamed.

Lizzie hesitated a moment longer. Danforth’s mouth brushed Jeth’s arm as the man changed the focus of his attack.

“Shoot him!” Jeth felt teeth clench down on his forearm, and the skin, so soft and vulnerable, tore in a blaze of white heat.

“Shoot him, Liz! Shoot him!”

Jeth saw her expression harden. A second later a loud crack and a burst of blue light filled the cargo hold. Jeth felt the heat of the stunner shot warm his face, and then he slipped into darkness.

CHAPTER 08

JETH DIDN’T REGAIN CONSCIOUSNESS UNTIL THEY WERE almost back to the Debonair. He sat up and looked around, spying Lizzie sitting on top of a barrel across from him. She looked guilt-stricken.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice far too quiet for his normally boisterous sister.

Jeth rubbed his aching head. It hurt, but not nearly as much as it would have if the stunner had hit him directly instead of just grazing him. There was that to be grateful for, at least. He slid his hand over his face, inspecting the damage with his fingers. Blood crusted the cuts on his cheeks where Danforth had clawed him. He needed to disinfect them soon. The bite on his arm was worse. He hoped one of the barrels was still full so he could douse it in alcohol.

“I’m fine,” Jeth said at last, looking up. He smiled, hiding the wince as the gesture pulled at his cuts. “You did good.”

She nodded, her expression unchanged.

Jeth frowned. “What’s wrong? Why are you so upset?”

“She thinks she killed him,” Shady said from where he stood in the opposite corner from Lizzie. He was casually tossing the Heart of the Universe from hand to hand like a baseball. Celeste and Flynn were in the cab of the truck. Shady pointed toward the back. Jeth turned and saw Danforth in a heap of tangled limbs.

“That’s nonsense,” Jeth said, getting to his feet. “He’ll be fine. It was just a stunner.” He walked over to Danforth and examined his face. Burner blood flowed freely from his nostrils, as well as his eyes and ears. Jeth swallowed. Maybe he wasn’t going to be all right. He bent over and felt for a pulse in Danforth’s neck. He found it after a few seconds. It was weak, but his Odyssey-ravaged heart was still beating.

Jeth turned back to Lizzie. “He’ll survive. The worst of it he did to himself.”

Lizzie didn’t say anything, and Jeth recoiled from the onslaught of guilt. Please don’t die. He didn’t want Lizzie shouldering that kind of burden.

He walked back to his sister and put an arm around her, squeezing. “I mean it, Liz. The blood is from the Odyssey, not your stunner shot.”

She swallowed. “I know that.”

Jeth sighed, knowing that she would need time to get over it. He shouldn’t expect her to bounce back right away. Hell, he would need time to get over it—the memory of Danforth’s face with his teeth bared and so close to his was enough fodder for a dozen nightmares.

Jeth hugged her once more, then stepped through the doorway to the cab. Ahead, the trees on the path they were following gave way to the clearing where they’d parked the Debonair hours before. Celeste pulled the truck to a stop and powered down the engines.

Mark Hilty greeted them with palpable relief as they climbed out.