“And I need him, to find it. He has to find it—”
The image slammed into his mind and he doubled, barely feeling the knife scrape across his jaw as he went down.
“Zach!”
“Stay back.” Diana crouched next to him, and he felt the blade cut into his left side. “One step closer and I will stab him. Then there will be nothing you can do to save him.” The blade slid in deeper, and Zach recoiled, the pain like a white hot poker under his skin. “He will live long enough to find what I need. Do you want to watch him die in agony?”
“Take the knife away from him.” Mom’s voice was deadly quiet. He only heard that tone when he was in serious trouble. “I will do as you ask. Just stop hurting him. Please.” She whispered that last word, and Zach forced his eyes open.
Mom had backed away, near the standing stone, her face white. He wanted to tell her he’d be okay, but he didn’t believe it himself. And right now he could barely take in a breath, never mind talk. The image of what Diana wanted pressed deeper into his mind, crowding out everything but the desperate need to find it. Now.
Diana jerked the knife free, and he let out a raw cry. The pain cleared his head, long enough for him to see the look on his mom’s face.
“No,” he whispered.
“I love you, Zach.”
Panic tore through him—and she lunged forward, tackling Diana, taking them both to the ground.
“Mom—” He crawled toward them, fresh pain dogging every move. Mom rolled over, trapping Diana, and punched her, reaching for the knife. Diana screamed, lashing out. The tip of the blade sliced across Mom’s left cheek.
She fell backward, blood staining her face. And Diana moved faster than he thought possible.
Silver flashed, and Zach froze, watching the knife move, almost in slow motion, as it angled down.
“Diana—no!” He shouted the denial, and the world sped up. The knife plunged into his mom’s right shoulder, and he couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t save her.
“No . . . please—” He lurched forward, ignoring the pain “Mom—” He stilled when Diana yanked the blade free.
“The next strike will kill her.” Diana let go, and Mom hit the ground. The low moan drove through Zach. This was his fault, all of it. She wouldn’t be hurt—she wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him. Diana’s voice snapped him back. “You find what I need, and I will give you what she needs to live.”
“No, Zach—”
“Yes,” he said, talking over the choked whisper. Tears burned his eyes as he crawled over to her. “I have to find it, Mom. I can’t—” He swallowed, the image starting to focus. “I can’t stop until I find it. I won’t stop, if it saves you.”
Pain flared in Mom’s eyes, and something he didn’t expect, something that shook him. Pride.
“Diana.” Her whisper hurt him, so faint, edged with so much pain. Diana leaned in, smiling. Zach wanted to wipe that smile off her face. With his fist. “You harm so much as a hair on Zach, I will come after you like the hounds of Hell. And trust me,” she said, her smile more deadly than her words. “I know more than a bit about Hell.”
With a panicked squeak, Diana lurched backward and grabbed Zach’s arm, the bloody knife hovering in front of him. “All he has to do is find something for me. Once he does so, he will be returned to you, unharmed. And will remain unharmed, as long as there is no retaliation.”
The image sharpened, flared in his mind. A box. She wanted a box—
With a harsh gasp he went down.
“Zach—” Mom tried to reach for him, let out a low cry and doubled over her bleeding shoulder. After an endless second she spoke. “Hell, Diana. It will feel like a vacation compared to what I’ll do if you hurt him.” She looked at Zach, a smile touching her mouth. Then her eyes rolled back and she collapsed, not moving.
“Mom—” It took all the strength he could gather, but he moved to her, felt for a pulse, his heart pounding so hard it left him lightheaded. He found it, relief crashing through the panic. And curled in on himself as a new and ugly pain twisted through him. The box—whatever was in the box reached for him, wanting, needing to be free.
“You saw it.” Diana crouched over him, the stench of sweat and the patchouli coating his nose, lodging in his throat. “The box—you know where it is.” He nodded, clutching his stomach. Whatever was in that box, it emitted a power he’d never felt before. A power that scared him so much, for the first time he didn’t want to find it. No matter how much it hurt. “Get up. Now, boy. Time is ticking away, and your poor mum is dying.”