He twirled the cross, her blood splashing over his face. Sputtering, he wiped at it, choking and cursing. Claire took advantage and whirled, stabbing the knife down. Straight into the heart of the deck.
“NO!”
Fire burst out of the cards. Claire recoiled, covering her face, and ran into James.
He spun her around, fury twisting his face, and swung the cross at her. She let the iron connect, the fury and pain fueling her. With a horrible sense of déjà vu, the sharp base of the cross drove deep into her side as she shoved them both toward the edge of the cliff.
*
“Mom—” Zach choked back the pain that ripped across his right side as he tried to stand. “Mom, no—”
She fell off the cliff. Taking James with her.
He crawled across the grass, caught the cliff edge and used it to pull himself forward. Simon was gone—he couldn’t lose her, too—not now—
“Claire!”
Eric’s shout told him help had finally arrived. He kept moving, pulling himself closer so he could look over the edge. She was gone, his mind already knew that, but he had to know for sure.
Strong hands caught his ankle, kept him from going over after her. Part of him wanted to—this was his fault, he took the card, he put them in this spot by following them, being stupid enough to let himself be taken—
“Zach?”
The wind-whipped voice stopped his heart. Grabbing the edge of the cliff, he peered over the side.
Mom hung on to a protruding ledge, clinging like a monkey. Cold wind beat at her, trying to tear her off. His heart stuttered, started pounding again so hard it hurt his chest. Fresh blood heated his skin.
“Hang on, Mom—” He reached down with his left hand, stretching out his fingers. The tips just brushed her shoulder. His side hurt so bad he could hardly breathe, but he wasn’t going to let her die. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself. “Can you take my hand?”
“Zach—”
“Don’t argue. We can argue later. Take my hand.”
Her eyes widened, silver almost swallowing the blue. Zach expected her to snap his head off, with the demon so clearly close to the surface. Instead she calmly reached up and caught his hand, her fingers shaking so much she had a hard time gripping him. The pressure of her added weight had his wound screaming in protest.
“Now climb over me. Use me—like a ladder.” He had trouble catching his breath.
“I don’t—”
“Do it, Mom.”
She obeyed, twisting her fingers into the sleeve of his shirt. Her free hand gripped the ledge, and Zach watched her feet find a hold on the narrow edge of rock. Black spots danced in front of him. He blinked, focused on her.
Slowly, inch by excruciating inch, she made her way up, gasping every time she moved her left arm. She paused, swallowing as she reached down to the cross sticking out of her side. With a choked scream she grabbed it and yanked it free. Zach watched it bounce down the side of the cliff, landing blade down at the head of the still figure sprawled on the sand.
“God, that hurt.” She swung her now blistered hand up, caught the cliff face just below his head. “I’m good, Zach. Tell them to pull you up.”
“Not—without you.” He closed his eyes as another wave of pain threatened to drag him under.
Mom cursed as she let go of his arm and climbed up next to him, using the sharp, random outcroppings like a ladder. Zach filed the more creative swear words away for later. This close he saw the toll the iron took on her, and her hands shaking on the rock.
“Mom—”
“Take my hand, Claire,” Eric said. He stretched out next to Zach, reaching down to her.
“Careful.” Zach gasped, the effort of staying conscious catching up with him. “She’s hurt.”
“I see it. I know you’re there, Annie. Don’t you even think about helping me. Back away. I’ll bring her to you.”
Good as his word, Eric yanked Mom up and over the top of the cliff, both of them landing in the grass. The hands that had held Zach, kept him from tumbling over, pulled him up and turned him on his back.
Marcus leaned over him. “Not the smartest move. Thank you.” Jade green eyes met his, gold swirling in their depths. “Now it is time to take care of you.”
A whirlwind of sand surrounded them, gold light flashing through the mini storm. Zach expected a face full of sand. Instead, it brushed over his skin, gathering around his injury, warmth spreading through him, sucking away the pain.
The mini storm blew itself out. Zach took in a breath, surprised that it barely hurt.
“I only healed you enough to close the wound, so keep still. I am going to take care of your mom.”