Sisters of Blood and Spirit Page 47


Wren grabbed at my arm. “Let’s go.”

I looked up at her. “I have to help him.”

Shadows crept down the hall—a legion of darkness coming to claim us.

And then I heard the whisper, “Child. Dead Born.” I froze. Bent wasn’t coming for me, or for Mace. He was coming for Wren. No way was I going to let him have her.

“Get out of here,” I told her.

“Not without you.”

“Damn it, Wren! Get the fuck out of here!”

She just stared at me—scared. I swallowed. I couldn’t help Mace and protect her, too. “I’m sorry,” I whispered as I stuck my hand in my bag.

“For what?”

I lashed out, striking with the iron bar Ben had given me. Normally Wren was solid to me, but the iron cut through her like she was butter and it a hot knife. I heard her cry out as she exploded into sparkling confetti that rained down around me.

She was so going to kick my ass if I survived the night.

The shadows came closer. Apparently Bent had decided anything was better than nothing. I had to act quickly.

“Leave me,” Mace rasped.

I made a face at him. “Don’t be stupid. I owe you. I’m not leaving you.”

He really didn’t look good. His face, usually gorgeous, was contorted in pain. “You are so annoying.”

“Shut up.” And then I yanked up his shirt and took a look at that ugly, ugly gouge on his chest, weeping tar. It was so freaking awful. I slapped my hand on it, and prayed—yes prayed—that whatever mojo I’d worked on Sarah earlier worked again. It was my only chance of getting both of us out of there alive. I was not going to spend eternity in this place, and neither was Mace.

I felt a jolt up my arm—like sticking my finger in a light socket and then getting punched in the chest. Mace bolted upright, eyes wide. Apparently he’d felt it, too.

A tendril of shadow on the floor curled toward him. Another eased down the wall not far from my head. And down by the stairs, Josiah Bent began to flicker again. Any second he could manifest—and he was going to be so pissed.

“Let’s go.” I jumped to my feet—knees knocking—and held out my hand. Mace grabbed my fingers and pushed to his feet as I pulled. His arm went across my shoulders, mine around his waist. Together we ran toward the entrance, our fear giving us what felt like superhuman speed. I think I could have carried him if I’d had to.

The door was open, and we squeezed through a split second before Bent manifested enough to slam it shut.

Now we had to make it to the graveyard. There was no way we’d make it there before the ghost—or any ghost—came after us again. I just hoped I had enough salt and iron left to protect us. At least I still had the iron rod Ben had given me.

We ran for the street. I didn’t care if security saw us. Two rent-a-cops were the least of my concerns at that moment. My heart was in my throat and my lungs felt as though they were going to burst as we ran across the street, straight for the grass. Behind us a roar gathered; Bent and his minions weren’t about to let us get away that easily. There was no way we’d get away at this pace, but if I could get Mace close to safety, I might be able to hold them off until he was with the others.

After that, I didn’t know what would happen.

Suddenly, there was a flash of light—right in my eyes! I stopped short, almost falling to the grass. Mace slammed into me, pitching me forward. I blinked, and held up my free hand, shielding my eyes as I looked up at the source of the light.

Shit.

“Hey, kids,” Officer Olgilvie said with malicious cheer. “Whatcha up to?”

WREN

She expelled me. My own sister! Sent me to the Shadow Lands and made me have to pull myself together again. By the time I’d done it, everyone was out of the building, back to the graveyard, and Lark and Mace had been arrested by that terrible man. There was nothing I could do about it, either. If she hadn’t expelled me I might have been able to frighten him enough that he let them go, but no—she had to be all overprotective of me. I understood it, but didn’t like it.

At least getting arrested kept them safe. Got them off asylum grounds.

Josiah Bent was an awful creature. Even if I hadn’t met him, or seen some of his deeds through Lark when she’d picked up that razor—it radiated off him like light from a bulb. I’d never felt anything like that maliciousness before, and to feel it coming through my sister... Well, I never wanted to experience it again, but I would have to. We couldn’t allow him to kill more people, but how could we stop something so powerful that he commanded an army of ghosts?

“Ohmigodohmigodohmigod,” Roxi bent down, head hanging by her knees.

Ben leaned against his car. He looked pale, but surprisingly stoic for what they’d all just experienced. I was a ghost and the whole thing had shaken me. “What do we do?”

Kevin threw his gear into the trunk of his vehicle and slammed it shut. “We find the bastard’s grave and burn his remains.”

“Not tonight,” said Ben. “Not without a plan, and not without Lark and Mace.”

“When?” Gage demanded. “Did you see what he did to Mace? For all we know Mace might be dead.”

They all looked at each other.

“This thing wants to kill us,” Gage went on, eyes wide, voice shaking. “It’s going to kill us.”

He was right, of course. Lark would have said something about not allowing that to happen—that they would kick Bent’s ass. I didn’t have anything like that to say. I was very scared at that moment that not only would Bent get my friends, but that he’d get me, too. He’d been coming for me, taunting me. The pull had been so strong, the urge to join him and let myself go so tempting.

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