Blind God's Bluff A Billy Fox Novel - By Richard Lee Byers Page 0,6

on the gas, and had no trouble touching any of them. I floored the accelerator and shot away just as Raul was winding up for a swing.

I felt like laughing for about half a second. Then I remembered that my real problem was still ahead of me. In fact, for all I knew, the fairies had torn my body apart already, and I was a real ghost.

I drove fast, and blew my horn at two couples crossing the street. One of the guys yelled and pulled his date to safety as the T-bird swerved around them with inches to spare. I made a left turn through a red light. Brakes screeched, and other drivers’ horns blared at me.

It scared me, but not as much as when my hands started feeling numb and mushy on the wheel. I tried to think them strong and solid again.

I raced under an I-4 overpass, then took a right. Blackness jumped at me. I’d been in such a hurry to get away from the Martinez brothers that I’d forgotten to turn my lights on, and Ybor was bright enough that it had kept me from noticing until now.

I switched them on and felt a fresh stab of panic, because nothing looked familiar. I was in the right sad, seedy little neighborhood, but where exactly, in relation to the house where the old man and I had holed up?

I was afraid I’d just have to drive around and pray I spotted it in time. But then I felt a tug inside my head.

I realized I had an instinct that told me where my real body was. I hoped that meant that it—I—was still alive. It seemed like it ought to. But the only thing I was sure about was that I didn’t really know any of the rules of this crazy new game I was playing.

I blew the horn as I drove up over the lawn. I hoped the old man would hear and understand what it meant, or else that it would scare the fairies.

I hit the brakes, tried to put the T-bird in Park, and my hand passed right through the shifter. I willed solidity back into my fingers, and the second time, it worked.

Melting back into a pure ghost was easier. Too easy. I was almost past the point of no return when I realized I’d forgotten to pop the door locks. Then I had to strain for what felt like forever to make my fingers firm enough to do the job.

Once I did, I finished dissolving and wished myself back in my body. I shot through the windshield and the front of the shack. Then I was lying in the dark, with buzzing, snapping, and cracking noises all around.

“I’m back,” I croaked. “That’s my car outside.”

“How am I supposed to get to it?” the old man asked. He was still bracing the door, and his voice came from right above me.

I accidentally bumped him as I climbed to my feet. “We run. I’ll guide you. Are you ready?”

Something banged at the back of the house, and then I heard a louder buzzing. Some of the brownwings had finally broken in.

“Go!” the old man yelled. He jerked open the door. I gripped him by the arm and we dashed out onto the stoop.

If all the fairies had still been in front of the door, they would have ripped us apart. But they were all over the house, picking and scratching holes, except for the ones that had already made it inside. Only a few were close enough to attack instantly.

Still, a few could be enough to take us down, or to delay us until the rest caught up with us. I flailed with my free hand, smacking them and tumbling them through the air. But mainly I hauled the old guy along as fast as I could.

I shoved him into the passenger side of the car, bumping his head in the process. The night got darker as a buzzing cloud of brownwings blocked out the stars above me. Knowing I didn’t have time to go around, I scrambled over the hood of the car. Even though I was scared out of my mind, there was a little piece of me that hated doing it. But a perfect paint job wouldn’t do me much good if I was too blind or dead to enjoy it.

One brownwing thumped onto the side of my head, and another landed on my shoulder. They clawed and scrabbled as