“Zach . . . Diana has Zach.”
Dread shot through her. There was some serious ugly hovering around that woman. “We’ll get him back. I promise you, Claire.”
Opening her eyes, Claire inched one hand across the grass, touched Annie’s fingers. She swallowed, took in a shallow breath. “Box—Zach found a . . . box. Gone.”
“Stop,” Marcus said. The anguish in his eyes tore at her. “Annie will find him. No—you need to trust, Claire.” He looked at Annie, determination pushing out the anguish. “Let’s get her out of here.”
He gathered Claire up in his arms and stood, moving as fast as he could without jarring her. Annie saw what he threw aside, and recognized it. Panic squeezed her heart. Pushing hair out of her face, she picked up the baseball cap, saw the blood on it.
“Not him. God, not him—not now.”
Annie stuffed the cap in her jacket pocket and caught up with Marcus, terrified at the amount of blood still leaking out of the wound in Claire’s shoulder.
“I need you to collect some things for me,” Marcus said, ignoring the stares as they came around the side of the hotel. He carried Claire through the hotel lobby, spit out a short list, stopping only long enough for the elevator to open. “The shop you told me of should have all I need.” He stepped into the elevator and punched the button. “Move fast, Annie.” The same fear that kept clawing at her left his voice ragged. “Whatever injured her left a mark of power. Ugly power.” Marcus lowered his head, whispering to Claire as the doors closed.
Annie ran, out of the hotel and down the high street, praying that Penn or Michelle would be there. Taking a big chance, she charged the front door. If it was locked she’d go right through the glass.
It flew open, startling a young couple dressed like they just came from a Ren faire. “Penn!” Annie moved into the store. “Michelle!” Her voice echoed off the plaster walls, the low, beamed ceiling, sounding as panicked as she felt. Both women came on the run. Michelle got to her first, reaching for the blood she knew streaked her green wool jacket. “It’s not mine. I need some things. Fast.”
“Tell me.”
They both gathered what Marcus asked for, not wasting time with questions. For that, Annie would be eternally grateful.
“Call us for anything.” Michelle walked her to the door, Penn on her other side, protecting her from the customers who began to stare, to move toward them. “Who’s blood is it, Annie?”
“Claire. Diana did this. Don’t go after her—she’s got Zach, and she’ll hurt him.”
“How did she cause such damage?” Penn looked furious. “She doesn’t have enough power to fill a teaspoon. I won’t do anything, Annie. We’re both already attached to that boy.” She pulled the door open, followed Annie out. “You call me if you need backup, for anything.”
“Thanks.”
Annie took off, knowing she could count on Penn, on both of them. She never expected to feel that way about anyone beyond Claire. Crazy how just a few months turned her life upside down.
“Hang on, Claire—please, hang on.”
It became a mantra as she ran down the sidewalk, willing Claire to stay alive. The sapphires in her engagement ring burned against her finger, sparking an angry blue. Soon, she promised. As soon as she gave Marcus his supplies, she was going hunting.
*
“I need the counter spell, Annie.” Marcus leaned over Claire, hands on her wounded shoulder. “Without it, all I can do is keep her alive. And I am not certain how long I can do that.”
Panic shut down her brain. Claire couldn’t die—she was indestructible . . .
Not anymore. She was almost more human than Annie. And without her power, like the proverbial sitting duck—
“Diana.” She blurted out the name. Marcus looked at her. “Diana would have it. Are you sure—”
“There has to be a counter spell.” Anguish flared in his eyes. “Without it, I can do nothing.”
“Then I’m gone.” She stopped at the door, forcing down her own fear. “Keep her alive, Marcus.”
She ran down the stairs, not wanting to wait on the elevator, wracking her brain for a way to find Zach. Claire never saw him leave the standing stones, and God only knew where that crackpot took him. Annie could start there—and search that field for days, while Claire slipped away from them. There had to be something—
She fumbled for her phone when the answer slapped her.
Shaking fingers tapped out the number. Annie leaned against the side of the hotel, sliding down as the phone on the other end rang.