Kicking It(42)

A tight laugh. “There are more of us all the time. We’ve had to activate candidates we would have never considered before you brought the family to its knees.” It paused. “All we want, Lilly, is to have you with us again.”

“So you can put me to death.” I remembered the bonfire, the flames licking at me, the eyes of my family leader as she watched.

“No,” the hunter said. “If that was what we had in store for you, I would not have brought Tasers.”

I was still dwelling on the “in store for you” portion. Perhaps fighting wasn’t my best option at the moment. “If I went with you, what would happen?”

The hunter shook its head, as if it were telling me that it wouldn’t divulge that information. And as if it pitied me as well.

The pity rankled, and my boots dug into my flesh. A memory stirred, restless, wanting to bloom.

Were the boots trying to help me access a helpful memory? Were they giving up a bit of themselves for me?

I grasped part of the memory. A videotape I had found as a young girl. Meratoliages, gathered round a table, where a dead member of my family lay, his chest open as they prodded and poked . . .

The truth struck me—my family wished to see if I had deformities? They had given up on me and wanted to learn from my mistakes, so that they would never be repeated in another member as they pursued their dark arts and tried to raise the dragon to life again.

But I wanted to live, even if it was merely night by night.

I called upon my muscle memory to save me, swinging my body so that I somehow got one of my legs over one of the hunter’s, my other leg between its legs. Then I scissored, bringing the thing down with an electronic grunt of surprise.

It didn’t take long for it to hop to a crouch, yet I was already in one, my knife in hand.

Unfortunately, it had accessed nunchakus, and as it spun them and swung them over one shoulder and grasped the bottom handle in preparation to knock me out, I braced myself to duck—

A shot rang out, and the next thing I knew, blood slapped my chest and face, and one of the attacker’s arms was missing.

I dove to the ground as the hunter’s electric scream overrode all the night sounds. When I looked up again, it was writhing on the ground, clutching what was left of its arm.

I looked over to see Philippe with a shotgun still aimed at the hunter.

Amari, I thought. Was she okay?

He stalked forward, slowly and methodically, talking to me. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. What did you do to Amari?”

“Only borrowed this baby from her. Maybe tied her up and gagged her, too, so she can’t make any spells that might’ve stopped me. But she’s fine. Me, too. Thanks for asking.”

The hunter was groaning, and I was shocked to see that it was still trying to grasp for the nunchakus it had dropped on the ground.

Automatically, I flung my knife at it, and the blade stuck into its neck. Dead shot.

It stopped all movement, but next thing I knew, Philippe had put the shotgun on me. I smiled at him, hardly surprised. Money was money.

“How did you—?” I started.

“Wake up and grab her shotgun without her seeing? Cher, I played possum for as long as I could. I waited and waited until after Amari rolled me to the side of the floor and then went about fixing some dinner. Or maybe the witch knew I was destined to get away and she didn’t bother to fight fate.”

But there was another option—what if Philippe was part of my protection spell and that was the reason Amari hadn’t stopped him?

“What are you destined to do now?” I asked him. “Take me with you so you can collect the reward money from the Meratoliages?”

He didn’t say anything. I realized at that moment that Philippe Angier needed the money for his family, but he wasn’t a true-born mercenary.

“If you bring me to them,” I said, “they’re going to kill me. They’re going to tear me apart to see why I didn’t work.”

“That money could help my maman for the rest of her life.”

“I understand.” I saw the revolver not three feet from me.

“You don’t understand, Lilly. You—”

Just as I was about to spring for the revolver, his shotgun went off again. But he hadn’t aimed at me.

When I looked behind me, I saw the hunter sprawled on its back, a hole in its chest. We Meratoliages don’t stop, I thought, but Philippe had certainly put a halt to this one.

Just to make certain of that, I stood, went to it, and peeled off its night-vision goggles and its mask. A fall of sandy hair, just like mine, spilled to the ground. She even looked a bit like me.

I dug under her black turtleneck, feeling for a pulse. Nothing. I turned to him. “I suppose I should thank you, but I suspect you were only clearing the way to the money for yourself. You saw in your vision where the Meratoliages are?”