She pulled him to his feet, the box lending her strength Zach knew she hadn’t possessed before he dug up that abomination. Still gripping his wrist, so tight it would leave bruises, she slung her bag over her shoulder and dragged him across the field, away from Mom. Straight to the castle. The haunted, ruined castle he had at the top of his list to explore.
He never expected to be releasing God only knew what inside its walls.
TWELVE
The burning in Claire’s shoulder jolted her awake.
She opened her eyes, her mind blank. One look at her surroundings had everything snapping into place.
“Zach—” Fire burst through her shoulder when she tried to move. “God above . . .”
With a moan, she lowered herself to the ground. Zach was gone, taken only heaven knew where by that madwoman. She had to get back to Marcus, to Annie, had to get their help to find him—
Fresh, ugly pain burned into her, deeper, hotter. She let out a raw cry, clutching at the ground. Sweat slid across her skin, back into her hair. Icy wind had her shivering, and the pain retaliated, burning a hole through her.
A different kind of heat warmed her throat. Swallowing, she inched her hand up, closed shaking fingers over the amethyst heart. The heart Zach gave her.
“Please—let him be safe. Please.” She prayed to a God she wasn’t certain would listen to her, even with a newly minted soul.
Something blue and crumpled caught her attention, buffeted by the wind. She inched her hand across the grass, touched it. Zach’s energy hummed through her fingers. Pulling it closer, she finally recognized it. Zach’s baseball cap. Blood stained the blue cotton.
Not him—you can’t have him.
She tucked it into her side, inched her hand down until it reached the pocket of her jacket, and found the familiar lump of her phone.
Her fingers kept sliding over the slick touch screen, and it took three tries before she managed to hit the right speed dial number. Annie’s voice had her closing her eyes in relief.
“Hey, Claire—did you find him? Claire?”
“Annie,” she whispered. And could all but see the panic she knew would be on her friend’s face.
“God—where are you?”
“Standing stones. Zach,” she forced what strength she had into her voice. “She took Zach.”
“We’ll get him, honey. You hang on. Do you hear me, Claire? We’re on our way.”
Annie’s voice kept cutting out, and Claire figured she was running.
The phone slipped out of her fingers, landing next to her on the grass. Slowly, she slipped back into pain-edged darkness, gripping Zach’s cap. Annie’s voice followed after her, more frantic with every moment.
“Claire—don’t you give up on me. Damn it, Marcus, she’s not answering.”
I’m here, Annie.
The sand rough voice that drifted up from the phone squeezed her heart. “We are on the way, Claire. Keep breathing.”
A smile tugged at her lips—and incredible pain threatened to engulf her.
Claire clutched the grass with her good hand, willed away the darkness. She had survived Hell.
She could survive this.
*
Annie sprinted out of the alley next to the hotel, Marcus beside her, his face white under the wild black curls. The wind smacked them, fierce and cold, as they tore across the open field.
Terror dogged every step. She willed herself to move faster, shoving back the horrifying thought that Claire would be dead when they got to her.
No—she’s strong. Hell strong. She has to be alive—
“She will be, Annie.” Marcus answered her thought. That normally brought on the anger. Now she was grateful he could sense her thoughts, since she didn’t think she could say what she was trying not to think. “Even if I have to drag her back from her Hell.”
They shot between two of the standing stones, found Claire on the other side of the circle. Marcus dropped down, hair blowing around his face, reaching for her wrist before his knees even hit grass. He pulled something out of her hand, tossed it next to him. Annie lowered herself to Claire’s other side, and saw the blood.
“Oh, sweet Jesus . . .” Both hands covered her mouth as she looked at Marcus. After an endless second he nodded. She felt her heart start back up.
“She’s lost too much blood. And there is—something not right with the wound. We must get her back.”
“Marcus.”
If they hadn’t been on top of her, Annie knew they wouldn’t have heard Claire’s whisper.
Marcus cradled her cheek, so gentle Annie’s throat ached. “I am here, sweet.” He brushed damp hair off her forehead, her face so pale the red-laced brown looked almost black against her skin. “Save your strength, now, I am taking you back to—”