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was metal-meaning that Dmitri might eventually heal. But the stake Mircea pulled out of his side was wood. When I saw it, my world went gray. I tried telling myself that even if it had hit his heart, that alone wouldn't kill a first-level master. But that wasn't much comfort with Augusta around to finish the job.
She had stopped her attack, surprise on her features when Mircea went down. But she recovered almost instantly, running forward to rip the bloody blade out of Dmitri's chest. She looked at me and laughed. "You aren't even going to make this a challenge, are you?”
She turned back to Mircea and I didn't even hesitate. Killing Augusta would dramatically alter time, but so would letting Mircea die. I'd never been as scared as I was watching the blood pour from Mircea's side and having no power to stop it. I would not watch his head taken, too.
My knives leapt out of the bracelet and flew at Augusta. With vampire agility, she was able to get the candlestick up in time to shield herself, but in the process she knocked a candle free. It landed on her shoulder before bouncing to the floor, and a spark caught on the bodice of her dress. It burst into a tiny flame, smaller than that of a match. A human would have snuffed it out between her fingers with no concern, but Augusta started screaming and thrashing around like a drowning victim going down for the last time.
Apparently, the terror of fire was enough to override Myra 's control, because Augusta promptly forgot all about the attack. Mircea tried to get her to hold still so he could smother the flames with his handkerchief, but she wouldn't listen. She slipped on a patch of Jack's blood and ended up on her elegant backside, and I had to jump out of the way to keep from having her roll right into me.
" Augusta! Stay still!" Mircea bellowed, but Augusta wasn't listening. Instead of putting out the flame, all her rolling around had caused more oxygen to get to it, and a finger of fire leapt to one of the long curls that framed her face. Her screams became more like shrieks, and she whipped off the fashionable curls, sending them flying. That explained why her head hadn't gone up like a gasoline fire- half of the golden coiffure was fake and probably made of human hair.
Myra rose out of her, abandoning ship now that she could no longer control it. I waved my arms and screamed frantically at my knives, which had zeroed in on the terrified Augusta. "No-not her! Get Myra!" They either didn't hear me or were having too much fun to obey.
The spirit creature was more single-minded. It dove through Myra, as insubstantial as a breath of wind, but she staggered backwards, clawing at her chest and screaming. After a stunned second, I realized that she'd been given the spiritual equivalent of a mugging. The spirit emerged from her back, so flush with stolen power that it was blinding silver, looking at it like staring into a searchlight.
I blinked, and when I looked again, it had faded out. Myra dropped to her knees, almost transparent, the energy that should have allowed her to remain here for hours gone. She turned a furious blue glare on me. "Doesn't matter. You can't guard him all the time.”
She shifted out just as Augusta scrambled to her feet and careened into Mircea, screaming and clawing like she blamed him for the danger. I tossed him the cloak, and he wrapped it around her to smother the flames, just as I felt the tug of my power.
"Tell me, little witch," he gasped, holding the struggling vampire with obvious difficulty. "What happens when you are trying to cause trouble?”
A wave of dizziness and nausea swept over me, and I felt myself falling. I crashed headfirst into Mac's cot, where Billy Joe had been playing a game of solitaire, scattering his cards everywhere. "I fold," I said weakly, and passed out.
Chapter 8
I hugged porcelain in the bathroom for the next half hour. Once the power receded, I was wiped out and had a headache so severe I was nauseous. With my usual luck, Mac decided to check on me right after I returned and found me green and shaking. He left to round up a snack, apparently on the assumption that my problem was low blood sugar. If only.
Billy moved over so I