I shook my head, my gaze glued to the light. It was taking form now, a cloud of crimson mist shaping into a robed figure. All we could see was the flowing cloak and the piercing white eyes from within the hood. It emanated so much energy that my body was tingling, setting the hairs on my arms on end. A current of fear electrified the room, and Herne pointed to the door.
“Everybody who isn’t one of us, get out while you can.”
The men and the woman hiding beneath their booths crawled out, then scrambled for the door. The man against the wall suddenly came crashing down face first, landing with such an awful thud that I swore I could hear bones breaking. He lay still, unmoving, and I wondered if he were playing possum, or if he was really dead.
“Bring it on,” Herne muttered, striding forward.
Raven crawled out from behind the table, following him. “What is it, do you know?”
“A Reaver. They’re created by several ghosts that have been merged into one creature. They only appear when there have been a number of murders nearby. The ghosts are unaware of what’s happening when they’re absorbed.” He glanced back at her. “Do you have any War Water on you?”
She nodded. “Ember, my bag’s back there. Can you bring it to me?”
I glanced around, my gaze falling on a black and silver bag. I grabbed it up and darted up to her side. “Here. What can this thing do?”
“What can’t it do?” Herne asked. “But even though they’re powerful, they aren’t indestructible.”
All the while, the Reaver was watching us. As Raven handed Herne a bottle of black water, it streaked past us so fast it was a blur. As I turned, Angel let out a shriek and then stumbled forward, her eyes glowing.
“Die, idiots,” she said, holding out her hands. The Reaver hovered behind her and I could see the strings of energy connecting it to her.
“Angel!” As I shouted, a sickly beam of red light flared out of her hands to catch me in the chest. It knocked me off my feet, sending me sailing backward. I spun through the air at least ten feet, only to slam into a table. The force of my landing broke the table beneath me and both I and the splintered wood went crashing to the floor.
“I’m not going to hurt her,” Herne shouted. “But I’m taking our red-robed friend out.” He splashed the War Water across both Angel and the Reaver behind her.
Raven held out her hand, aiming at the Reaver. “Close your eyes,” she shouted.
I turned, knowing what she was going to attempt, and hid my face as she began to chant:
Fire of heaven, I call thee down,
from top of cloud to kiss the ground.
Bolts to forks, forks to bolts,
I summoned thee, a million volts.
Strike to true, I set the mark,
jump from heaven, to Reaver arc!
Raven’s voice rang clear as the bar began to shake and a swirl of mist and smoke formed. A lightning bolt ripped out of her hands, across the room, to strike the Reaver. There was an electric snap, and then the Reaver shrieked and froze into a blackened statue, shattering into pieces that fell to the floor, smoking.
“My bag—there’s another bottle—Blessed Water. Sprinkle some on every piece of that thing,” Raven shouted, collapsing to her knees.
Herne turned, frantically looking for the bag that I had been holding. I sat up, my entire side aching from having smashed the table.
“Crap, where is it?” Herne scanned the floor of the dimly lit bar.
I caught sight of the bag. “There—over there, beneath that booth!”
Herne dove for it, coming up with the bag. He dumped everything out on the floor and selected one of the bottles filled with a clear liquid.
“Hurry, it’s trying to re-form!” Raven called. She was trying to stand up, but she was covered in soot and looked dazed and confused.
The pieces of the Reaver were sliding toward one another and I realized that it was, indeed, trying to regroup. I tried to stand but something wasn’t working right and I realized there was blood on my hands.
Herne managed to get the lid off and began sprinkling the water over the agitated pieces of charcoal. As he did so, they sizzled, snapping and popping like a blown transformer.
The pieces of charcoal began to melt. He pressed on. I made it to my feet