Lisa stared at her, then snapped out of her paralysis. She turned the key. The engine roared into life. Claire flinched as the gears ground, but the car shuddered to a halt and started to back up.
“That’s it!” Claire smiled at her and let go of the door handle. “Now punch it!”
Lisa did, spitting up gravel and dirt as she swerved back across the lot. Claire sprinted after her. She grabbed the passenger door handle, ready to yank it open and pull Lisa out. Her fingers froze, then her arm. Before she could start a protection spell, hands closed over her shoulders and jerked her away from the car.
Claire froze in the grip, a nightmare come to life as she understood who—what—held her. What had taken over Natasha, and used her body, her power for its own ends.
“You do not get to win this time.” Those hands slid down her arms, leaving a trail of icy pain, then closed Claire in a hug that trapped her against Natasha’s chest. Something pressed into Claire’s shoulder blade, small and hard. “But you do get to watch.”
Natasha whispered, and the Latin poured over Claire, ancient, surreal. Heat burst from the object against her shoulder. Familiar heat, familiar power that ratcheted her panic.
“Don’t do this. Please—I’ll go with you now. Just don’t do this—”
“I need her soul.”
Freeing one arm, she pulled the object off Claire’s shoulder, cradled it in her palm. The panic slithered through Claire as she recognized the talisman. A talisman that she never thought she would see again. It shouldn’t be here—the darkness that rode Natasha shouldn’t be here—
Claire let out a hoarse gasp when the talisman touched her again. It sucked at her power, left her shaking and weak. With a smile, Natasha tucked the talisman out of sight, out of reach.
“She never guessed about you,” Natasha whispered, her breath warm on Claire’s cheek. “I can hear her, screaming inside this body, screaming at me to finish the useless witch. She certainly does hate, but she has no idea what you really are, hiding behind your pretty face and this petty life. Why do you choose this, when you could have such power—”
“Take me,” Claire said. “You can have it all, the power, the rank, everything. Just let her go—you don’t need—”
“I want more than what just you will give me. And I am done with your damn compassion for these humans.”
One hand covered her mouth, the arm around her like iron. She watched, helpless, as her car skidded forward and drove straight into the water. The last thing she saw before it sank was Lisa screaming through the window.
*
“We have to find her.” Annie stalked around Claire’s living room. She had been stuck here for hours—for hours, because Claire was too stubborn to trust, and left them out of the loop to try and protect them. Now Claire was out there, somewhere, alone, maybe hurt. Or worse— “She’s in no condition to face her cousin—”
“I agree with you, Annie.” Eric leaned against the wall next to the kitchen, looking as tired as she felt. “Claire isn’t up to facing anyone—thanks to me.”
“What did I say about that? Claire doesn’t blame you—”
“But she does blame herself,” Marcus said. He sat on the sofa, a blanket around his shoulders. His face looked like someone had worked him over. But she could have sworn he had more bruising an hour ago— Marcus jerked her back to their conversation. “And I would go after her in a heartbeat, Annie. If I knew where she had gone.”
Annie wanted to slap him for reminding her that they were essentially helpless. Fear crept in and twisted around her anger. She shoved it back down. Again.
“Her phone is going straight to voicemail. I know where Natasha lives, but she would hardly keep a screaming victim in her tiny row house. So that still leaves us with a big fat bupkis.”
She paced to the end of the living room, then swung back around and headed for Marcus. To his credit, he sat still on the sofa, waited for her attack.
“What did you say to Claire to make her lose her temper? She never uses her power on anyone. It’s rule number one.”
Marcus looked up at her, his eyes solid green and exhausted. Annie had to tear her gaze away; she swore she saw gold in his eyes the last time she—no, she was just tired. And scared—really scared.
“We had an argument.”
“Really, Sherlock? Watson’s dog could have told me that.”
Eric raised his hand. “Did Watson have a dog? I don’t recall—”
“Okay, funny boy.” Annie smiled. His flippant question eased the tension between her and Marcus. The fact that he cracked a joke made her feel better. Maybe it was finally getting through that he didn’t need to dump all the blame on himself. “If we can’t call Claire, maybe—wait, she has GPS on her phone. Stupid—God, how could I be so stupid, I should have thought of this—” Annie ran into the bedroom, unplugged Claire’s laptop and carried it out to the living room. “I think she downloaded some tracking software—”