“Not the shop.” Mom’s deadly quiet voice made James jump. And Zach paid when the knife jerked in his hand. “Somewhere in the open, where you can’t hide, or set a trap.”
James laughed—and Zach let out a choked cry, trying to escape as James shoved the knife all the way in, the hilt slapping his side. Mom clenched her fists, but Simon’s white knuckled grip held her in place. Her thought pushed through the agony clouding his mind.
Don’t fight him, sweetheart. Please don’t fight him.
He met Mom’s eyes, tears sliding down her face. She nodded, once.
“I will bring the card,” she said. “To the park by the cliff. Zach knows it. Open, but quiet this time of year. If he is not alive when I get there, you will wish you had never been born. Lord Bennett.”
James gasped, the arm wrapped around Zach’s waist shaking. “How—”
“You are not the only long-lived standing in this alley. I have lifetimes to hunt you down and torture you if he does not survive this day. Are we understood?”
“You just—” For the first time, James didn’t have a smooth comeback. “Get there fast! It’s up to you whether or not he bleeds out.” His breath scorched Zach’s throat. “Start walking.”
Zach stumbled when James moved, and the knife shifted. He felt himself drop, Mom’s gasp barely registering through the white-hot pain radiating from his side. It became unbearable, strangling his breath, every muscle cramping under the onslaught. He already hurt from the desperate need to find. A need he knew would be unfulfilled. Now he had to fight, to survive long enough. For Mom.
James yanked him up. “Fall and I’ll drag you, seeker.”
The word twisted into his wound. Zach doubled over the knife, heard Mom curse, fighting Simon’s grip. His only relief was knowing Simon would keep her safe. Focused on taking the next step, he moved away from Mom, not sure he would see her again; all the odds against him surviving.
EIGHT
“Claire!” Simon’s voice finally penetrated the rage. “Stop fighting me. We need to work together, or Zach will die.”
The last words got through, and she relaxed. “I’m fine. You can let go, Simon.”
After an endless hesitation, he turned her around. Those clear, sharp green eyes studied her. “I’m not falling for it, Claire.”
She let out her breath, forced herself to keep calm, to wait for the right moment. “You’re right—we have to do this together.”
Simon frowned. Claire thought she sounded normal. But the rage threatening to consume her was leaking out, and he heard it. Or saw it. She had to get away from him before—
“You’re planning to face him alone.”
And the gig was up.
“I am sorry, Simon.” Claire grabbed his arm and dragged him down to the end of the alley. Her free hand flipped the metal lid of the dumpster open like it weighed nothing. “No one else is going to be hurt. Not when I can stop him.”
“Claire—” She grabbed the front of his denim jacket, ready to toss him in the empty dumpster. His voice caused her to pause mid lift. “Let your friends help you.”
“Damn it, Simon.” She dropped him to his feet. “Go get Marcus and Eric. Tell them it’s the cliff where I fought Natasha—they will understand. Do not let Annie anywhere near me, do you understand?”
His eyes narrowed. “Claire, you’re not—”
“She can’t be put in that kind of danger—”
“You’re not the demon.” He gripped her shoulders and yanked her forward, forcing her to look at him. She could have thrown him down the alley—he had to know that. Why wasn’t he afraid of her? “I can see you—you, Claire. The same clear light I’ve always seen surrounding you. Do you get it? Whatever is giving you this power, it’s not dark, or evil. Believe me, I’d know.”
She stared at him, hope creeping in through the despair. “All the signs are there, Simon—what I’ve lived with, fought against, for centuries.”
He cradled her cheek. “Have you ever thought it may be the real you—the angel, finally finding a way out of the darkness?”
“God above—” She couldn’t—she didn’t have time for this. Unhooking the chain that held her amethyst heart, she took it off, turned Simon’s hand over and laid it in his palm. She pulled away from him, careful not to hurt. He would have enough bruises from her manhandling. “Get Marcus and Eric, meet me at the cliff. Zach will need Marcus to heal him, if I can—” She cut herself off, refusing to even think of the possibility. “Go!”