of himself enough to reach out to the woman he loved. He was gaining power as he drained her life away, not what he meant to do, but when you’re just a few bones nailed to a wall for a black magic ceremony, you probably don’t think too clearly.
Nicky and Zerbrowski were already moving toward the bed in the far corner. I caught up with them and was blissfully alone with my thoughts instead of with Thomas’s one thought. Zerbrowski and I trained our guns on the bed, while Nicky took a one-handed grip on the footboard and lifted, his gun still in his other hand as if the bed weren’t heavy at all.
I stared down the barrel of my rifle at a short, dark man who looked up at us with wide eyes. Robbie Curtis looked terribly ordinary and harmless huddled there. I didn’t have to be a wereanimal to smell the fear on him, but just because someone’s afraid doesn’t mean they aren’t dangerous. Cornered animals fight harder. He had his hand wrapped around a small bag tied around his neck like a necklace. He pointed his other hand at me like it was a blade. I felt something go out from his hand to me, but it split around my psychic shielding like water around a boulder.
Zerbrowski yelled, “Put it down!”
I wasn’t sure what he was telling him to put down, the bag, his hand, what? The man sent energy at me again, but I was a boulder and his power could not move me, or crack me, or do shit to me. I stopped looking down the barrel of my gun at him and let the AR-15 hang from its tactical sling while I reached down and grabbed the arm he was pointing at me and jerked him to his feet.
“Anita, be careful,” Zerbrowski said.
He was right, but I was too angry to care. I hadn’t let my temper get the better of me at a crime scene in years, but fuck it. He pointed his finger at me and again there was that push of power rushing around my shielding. “What is that supposed to be doing to me? Huh? What the fuck is that supposed to do? Hurt me? What?”
He did it one more time, but this time he pointed at Zerbrowski. I heard him make a noise, not a scream, but not a good sound. I fought the urge to look behind me at him, but I had to make sure Curtis didn’t hurt anyone else; secure the weapon, then tend the wounded, otherwise you get more wounded. I grabbed the man’s pointing finger with my free hand and broke it. He screamed, knees going weak so that he helped me take him to the ground. I kicked his legs out from under him and put him on his stomach on the floor. Nicky started to help me, but I said, “I’ve got it, help Zerbrowski.”
Nicky didn’t argue, he just left my side, and I knew he’d do what I told him to do. I didn’t dare glance over but concentrated on putting the man’s hands behind his back and getting the handcuffs out of their holder. I killed more people than I arrested, so handcuffs weren’t my best thing when someone was wiggling on the floor. I had to secure the prisoner, had to make him safe so he couldn’t hurt anyone else. If I’d done that first thing instead of being an arrogant, angry shit, Zerbrowski would never have been hurt.
“He’s alive,” Nicky said from behind me.
The man who was struggling with my knee in his back said, “You’re hurting me!”
“Good,” I said and finished getting the handcuffs around his thin wrists. The cuffs were designed to withstand the strength of a shapeshifter. A human, even one that could cast spells, wasn’t getting out unless he could unlock them with magic. Shit, I didn’t know if that was even possible. I couldn’t do it, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t. “You shoot magic at us with the broken finger, I’ll break it again. If you use magic on us at all, I’ll start with your fingers and keep going until you can’t cast spells anymore. Are we clear on what will happen if you use any more magic?”