the emotions aside and slapped Zach’s right hand over the wound. “Press on it. Zach .” Red rimmed eyes stared up at him. “Use the pain, son. It will keep you awake.”
“She’s not—evil, Simon.”
“I know. We just have to convince her. Stay put.”
Simon stood, the knife humming in his hand. He had never felt the power like this before; his talent was seeing it. But his instincts told him this knife was different. Like the deck was different. An object with its own agenda.
He was about to change that agenda.
*
C laire let go of James and dug her fingers into the ground. It halted their momentum, just enough for her yank him up and over, slamming him down face first. She knew the sickening crack was his nose breaking.
He curled up like a little boy, holding his nose. Blood gushed between his fingers.
“Not again—you broke it, why did you—no!”
In a move that knocked her backward he shoved off the ground and ran past her. She turned around—and froze at the sight of Simon, holding a bloody knife. The knife that had been in Zach.
Simon sidestepped the attack, obviously trying to avoid injuring James. Claire didn’t have that objection.
Pushing to her feet, she sprinted forward, letting out a wild shout. Simon caught her injured arm.
“No, Claire.”
The pain spiked her temper. “Let me go!”
She threw Simon toward the trees, not watching to see where he landed. Instead she went after James, who had chosen escape over fighting. He glanced over his shoulder, eyes widening when he saw her.
Claire gathered herself as she ran and leapt off the ground, taking them both down. The deck flew out of James’ hand and scattered across the grass. “No!”
He crabbed forward. Claire caught his ankle and yanked him back. The power that surrounded him was fading. He did get it from the deck—so the longer she kept them apart, the easier for her to—
James punched her lacerated arm.
With a hoarse scream she recoiled. James scrambled to his feet and moved to the deck. It had shuffled itself back into a neat pile.
“Sorry. Not going to happen.” Simon’s quiet voice lifted her head. He stepped in front of the deck, the knife pointed at James. “You two are about to part ways.”
*
“ F aster, Eric.” Annie crouched in the back seat, willing them to get there in time. The park where Natasha held her, bait for Claire, had too much bad mojo for her. She hadn’t been back since that horrible day. And she didn’t want to go back now. But Claire needed her, and Zach was hurt, maybe dying—
Stop—we’ll make it.
“Almost there, Annie.” Eric didn’t snap, didn’t complain about her constant harping. God, she didn’t deserve him. But she wasn’t letting him go. Ever.
Marcus sat in the passenger seat, too quiet. He had to be thinking the same things—too much death, too much loss. It couldn’t happen again. Damn it, she wouldn’t let it happen again.
“Please, Eric—faster.”
*
J ames did the last thing Claire expected. He jumped Simon.
They toppled, struggling for the knife. Simon threw it toward the deck and it hit tip first, quivering as it pinned the pile of cards. Claire swore she heard them scream.
James did scream, fury giving him the strength to fight a man nearly a foot taller. He shoved Simon off him, crawled toward the deck. Pain etched his face, his breathing harsh and shallow. Claire pushed herself to her knees and lunged forward. Her hand closed over his arm and yanked him away from the cards just before he touched them.
“They are mine!”
“Not anymore.” Panting, her arm on fire, she lurched to her feet, drawing him away from the pinned cards. Away from Zach. Some of her panic eased when Simon moved to Zach’s side. “They’ve hurt you long enough, James. It’s time to let them go.”
“You have no right.” Instead of going after her, he pulled free, yanking the knife out of the deck. A high-pitched, hollow shriek echoed
“She’s not—evil, Simon.”
“I know. We just have to convince her. Stay put.”
Simon stood, the knife humming in his hand. He had never felt the power like this before; his talent was seeing it. But his instincts told him this knife was different. Like the deck was different. An object with its own agenda.
He was about to change that agenda.
*
C laire let go of James and dug her fingers into the ground. It halted their momentum, just enough for her yank him up and over, slamming him down face first. She knew the sickening crack was his nose breaking.
He curled up like a little boy, holding his nose. Blood gushed between his fingers.
“Not again—you broke it, why did you—no!”
In a move that knocked her backward he shoved off the ground and ran past her. She turned around—and froze at the sight of Simon, holding a bloody knife. The knife that had been in Zach.
Simon sidestepped the attack, obviously trying to avoid injuring James. Claire didn’t have that objection.
Pushing to her feet, she sprinted forward, letting out a wild shout. Simon caught her injured arm.
“No, Claire.”
The pain spiked her temper. “Let me go!”
She threw Simon toward the trees, not watching to see where he landed. Instead she went after James, who had chosen escape over fighting. He glanced over his shoulder, eyes widening when he saw her.
Claire gathered herself as she ran and leapt off the ground, taking them both down. The deck flew out of James’ hand and scattered across the grass. “No!”
He crabbed forward. Claire caught his ankle and yanked him back. The power that surrounded him was fading. He did get it from the deck—so the longer she kept them apart, the easier for her to—
James punched her lacerated arm.
With a hoarse scream she recoiled. James scrambled to his feet and moved to the deck. It had shuffled itself back into a neat pile.
“Sorry. Not going to happen.” Simon’s quiet voice lifted her head. He stepped in front of the deck, the knife pointed at James. “You two are about to part ways.”
*
“ F aster, Eric.” Annie crouched in the back seat, willing them to get there in time. The park where Natasha held her, bait for Claire, had too much bad mojo for her. She hadn’t been back since that horrible day. And she didn’t want to go back now. But Claire needed her, and Zach was hurt, maybe dying—
Stop—we’ll make it.
“Almost there, Annie.” Eric didn’t snap, didn’t complain about her constant harping. God, she didn’t deserve him. But she wasn’t letting him go. Ever.
Marcus sat in the passenger seat, too quiet. He had to be thinking the same things—too much death, too much loss. It couldn’t happen again. Damn it, she wouldn’t let it happen again.
“Please, Eric—faster.”
*
J ames did the last thing Claire expected. He jumped Simon.
They toppled, struggling for the knife. Simon threw it toward the deck and it hit tip first, quivering as it pinned the pile of cards. Claire swore she heard them scream.
James did scream, fury giving him the strength to fight a man nearly a foot taller. He shoved Simon off him, crawled toward the deck. Pain etched his face, his breathing harsh and shallow. Claire pushed herself to her knees and lunged forward. Her hand closed over his arm and yanked him away from the cards just before he touched them.
“They are mine!”
“Not anymore.” Panting, her arm on fire, she lurched to her feet, drawing him away from the pinned cards. Away from Zach. Some of her panic eased when Simon moved to Zach’s side. “They’ve hurt you long enough, James. It’s time to let them go.”
“You have no right.” Instead of going after her, he pulled free, yanking the knife out of the deck. A high-pitched, hollow shriek echoed
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