“No—”
“I can see it, Annie.” Claire moved to her, took her hand. “I can see the darkness that holds them. And that will give us an edge. Stay here, look after Marcus—” Her voice broke, and she closed her eyes briefly—but not before Annie saw the glint of tears. She swallowed her own tears. “We’ll be back as fast as we can, so keep him alive.”
She squeezed Annie’s hand before letting go, and limped past her.
“Claire—wait.” Lea pulled off her tennis shoes. “You’ll want these, seeing as you’re barefoot.” With a smile she knelt in front of Claire and helped her slip them on, tying the laces. “Please be careful—Jane is on a tear, since she lost not only her morning sacrifice, but someone she’s not sure of. And trust me, she hates unsure.”
“Thank you, Lea.” Claire kissed her cheek, took a deep breath, and looked over at Simon. Annie saw the exhaustion, the lingering pain that hovered around her—and swallowed when she realized she could see them. “Ready?”
He pulled his gun. “I am now.”
Laughter burst out of Claire. “Sorry,” she said, trying to control her smile. “Now that I know you’re a man of God—weapons don’t fit my mental image.” She reached back, started to wrap her tangled length into a bun, then flinched and lowered her left hand. “That hand is going to be out of commission for the near future.”
“Let me.” Annie stepped behind her, used the tangles to her advantage as she tied it into a messy knot. “It may not stay—though with the snarls you’ve got in there, it’s probably permanent now.”
“Thank you, Annie. We’ll be back soon.”
She followed Simon out the door, smiling at Annie before she shut it behind her. Annie prayed it wouldn’t be the last time she saw that smile. Or Claire.
*
“Did you literally come back from Hell, or was that a colorful euphemism?”
Claire swallowed, kept her focus on the ground, afraid to see the condemnation in Simon’s eyes. “What do you think?”
“That you’ve got deep layers under that pretty face. And now isn’t the time to dig, no matter how much I want to.”
She met those clear green eyes, and saw nothing but his concern for her. Relief left her lightheaded. She didn’t realize until now just how much this man’s opinion mattered to her. When he flexed his fingers, it gave her an opening to change the subject.
“How is your hand?”
“It was like a hot water burn. The second I got his blood off, my skin started cooling.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t learn field medicine in the academy.”
He shook his head. “You don’t miss a thing. I was a combat medic, in the army. Joined up right out of high school, before I realized blindly following orders is not my forte.”
“Why did you become a cop?”
“Connections. My sergeant knew someone who knew someone—and I ended up at the academy. Best thing that happened to me.”
“But you quit.”
His voice changed, an edge to it she hadn’t heard before now. “A story for another time. You tell me if you need a break.”
“I won’t need one.”
Claire let the silence stretch out, fighting to keep up with his long-legged pace as they moved through the trees lining the unpaved road. Bracing herself for his reaction, she asked the question she didn’t expect him to answer. “Can you tell me what happened?”
She heard Simon take in a breath, then let it out, slow and not quite steady.
“Jane took over one of my teachers, at the Catholic school attached to my church. She obviously didn’t do her homework—everyone in town knows about my gift, that I can see any kind of power. Yours is unlike any I’ve ever come across—never mind that I couldn’t see it until I touched you. That’s a first for me, too.”
He glanced over at her. For the first time, she had no smooth line to cover herself—and he was already suspicious. So she turned the attention back to him. “How long have you been able to see power?”
“I’ve had the gift since I was a kid, after I fell out of an oak tree and landed on my hard head.” A smile flashed across his face. “And I wasn’t quiet about it. I also studied the supernatural, once I was old enough not to be scared stupid by nightmares. I wanted to be able to recognize what I was bumping into. Like Marcus.” The smile faded, and he rubbed one hand over his face. “When someone I considered a friend walked into my office, trapped by Jane’s power, I froze—and that hesitation gave her the opening to blast me against the far wall. By the time I woke up, she’d already gathered a good number of my congregation and laid her influence on them. That teacher died before it was done.”