Boundary Born (Boundary Magic Book 3) - Melissa F. Olson Page 0,66

a small, unconscious step backward. “This is some kind of necromantic attack.” She looked up, her hard eyes meeting mine. “Who did this?”

“How do I stop him?” I asked, ignoring her question. “I mean, is there a way of shutting him down remotely?”

“You can’t. I’ve never seen anything like this; it’s old power. If your guy has more like these”—she pointed to the stones—“and you don’t know where he is or where he’s setting up . . .” Blossom crossed her arms in front of her chest, a defensive posture. “I don’t know of any way to stop him from a distance. You’d have to disturb the grid.”

I’d never seen Blossom like this—she looked intimidated, awed. What could scare the meanest woman I knew?

I felt a chill. I hadn’t known that crystal grids could be so powerful, which made me anxious about what else Emil could do with them.

And then I realized that after last night, he knew where we were keeping Maven. Oh, God.

“Hang on a second,” I told Blossom, stepping away from the counter. I ignored her scowl and called Simon to explain the problem. “You need to move her, Simon. Immediately.”

“But how?” he asked. “It’s broad daylight out there.”

“You must have a box or a big suitcase or something. It doesn’t have to be dignified, it just needs to happen right now.”

“Okay, okay. I’m on it.”

I hung up the phone and went back to Blossom. “I need to know how to stop this guy. It was part of the deal.”

Her face went hard again, returning to the wizened crankiness I knew so well. “You’re not listening, white girl. I can’t beat this. I don’t know anyone who can beat this. Even—” she cut herself off, her mouth snapping shut.

“Even who?” I demanded. “Don’t dick around with me, Blossom.”

She scowled, but through clenched teeth she said, “Even Viola. She knew crystals. She taught my brothers and me. When I left the rez, I wanted nothing to do with it.”

Viola was Blossom’s late mother. “And when you couldn’t sew anymore, you had to go back,” I finished for Blossom. She didn’t say anything, just glared at me. “And I bet that’s why you get to keep this job, despite your shitty people skills. You know crystals.”

“And what about you?” she snapped. “You pretend to be another half-crazy vet with a crap job, hanging onto your sanity by family ties. But you’re more than you let on, aren’t you, white girl?” Her eyes suddenly widened. “Tell me. What happens when you touch the stones?”

I stared at her blankly. “I . . . I guess I haven’t touched them,” I said, frowning in puzzlement. Only the amethyst, and I didn’t like handling it for some reason.

“Is that so?” Idly, Blossom picked up the enormous piece of smoky quartz, holding it up to the light to examine it. “There’s a little juice left in this one,” she murmured. With no warning, she tossed the crystal straight at my chest. I automatically fumbled to catch it—

Just over Blossom’s shoulder, a gruesome-looking ghost flickered into view.

It was Sam.

Chapter 27

This wasn’t Sam as I knew her in life, or the Sam who visited with me in our bedroom while I dreamed. It was Sam as she’d been when she died, ravaged by a werewolf.

Her skin and dress were shredded, fresh and old blood stained her skin, and there were raw, oozing chunks missing from her belly, her arms, and her legs.

With a shout, I threw the stone on the floor as hard as I could, feeling a rush of satisfaction as it snapped in two. The image immediately disappeared, and I stood there staring at where Sam had been, panting as if I’d run ten miles.

“Now look what you did,” Blossom said crossly. There was no indication that she’d seen anything unusual. “Do you have any idea how much that was worth?”

I turned on my heel and bolted from the store. If I didn’t, I was undoubtedly going to hit Blossom, and while she may have deserved it, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop.

When the door closed behind me, I took a step sideways and crouched down, pressing my back against the siding. I clenched my hands into fists, squeezed my eyes shut, and curled in on myself, my breath still jagged. I hadn’t reacted this badly since those first few panic attacks when I came home from Iraq. It was Sam who’d calmed me down back then. But Sam was dead, and