the blood on my jeans, he’d nicked my femoral artery. He was so good at this I knew he’d done it before—many times.
I reached for the athame with bloody fingers. If I wanted to heal the wound the blade had to come out. The instant I touched the handle, lightning fell from the sky, so close every hair on my body seemed to sizzle.
Had I done that? I didn’t think so. If I’d brought the lightning, I’d have brought it down on him.
Blood dripped off Jeremy’s chin. He lurched to his feet, and I jabbed at him with the knife. He kicked it, and my hands were so slick, the weapon flew.
While he chased the thing, I ran, staggered, then slid in the blood spreading out from my feet like a pool. I wasn’t thinking clearly, probably from blood loss. Running wasn’t an option until I healed myself. If I didn’t do it soon I might bleed out.
I slapped my palm over the wound, gritting my teeth as it came together with a sickening slurp.
Jeremy’s arm went around my neck; the knife pricked my skin. “Try anything else and I’ll slit your throat. I only need to sacrifice a witch. It doesn’t have to be you.”
I stilled. He could keep cutting me; I could keep healing myself. But eventually I’d be too weak to move. I needed to quit while I still had enough blood left to fill my head so I could think. What else did Jeremy need to raise Roland?
Sacrifice of a witch by a Venatores Mali with the most kills. Chants of the worthy believers. Plural. Right now there was only him. Wasn’t there something about the moon too? It was morning. Which meant I still had time.
He bound my arms to my sides with a bungee cord he’d pulled from somewhere then shoved me toward the cliff. I was half afraid he meant to throw me off. But a few feet from the drop he grabbed my collar. Was he afraid I’d jump?
I should have jumped! Except I wasn’t ready to throw in the towel—or my life—quite yet.
“Lie on the stone.” He poked me with the athame. Blood trickled between my shoulder blades.
“What st—”
Then I saw it. Right at the edge of the world, camouflaged by the roiling pewter sky and long summer grass, lay a long, flat, smooth gray rock. A perfect natural altar.
He poked me again, and I did as I was told. Rain spat in my face as he looped a zip tie around my ankles and pulled. Then he stepped back, took out his cell phone, scowled.
“No service?” I murmured. Welcome to my world. “Bummer. How will you summon worthy believers?”
Jeremy’s head lifted; his gaze turned toward the trees. Tires crunched on stone. Seconds later a Three Harbors PD cruiser appeared. Chief Deb climbed out.
I had no idea how she’d come to be here, but I was so glad she was. Jeremy was armed, but so was Deb, and as in every action movie from now until the end of the world—gun beat knife. All the time.
Then my gaze lit on Jeremy, and my hope wavered.
Why was he smiling?
* * *
Cassandra opened her bag and withdrew a chunk of black stone.
“What’s that?” Owen asked.
“Black obsidian.” She took out a white candle.
“You carry around scrying materials?” the fed asked.
Owen was impressed Franklin knew what they were. It made him wonder what else the guy knew.
“Never can tell.”
“Tell what?” Owen wondered.
“Exactly.”
Cassandra moved to the table, set the stone in the center. The overhead lights sparked against the obsidian like stars. She flicked them off.
“Can’t have anything reflected in the stone but what we want to see.” She motioned Raye into the chair on one side of the table then took the other. After setting the candle next to the stone, she lit it, then held out her hands. Raye took them.
“Close your eyes, and think of your sister. In a few minutes, we’ll open our eyes, look into the stone’s center.”
“And then?” Raye asked.
“Then we’ll see what we’ll see.”
“What about us?” Owen asked.
“Maybe you’ll see too.”
Cassandra and Raye closed their eyes. Bobby, Franklin, and Owen stood in a semicircle around the table, no doubt feeling as foolish as they appeared.
Owen closed his eyes and thought of Becca. Couldn’t hurt. Unfortunately all he saw was the inside of his eyelids.
Raye gasped, and Owen’s eyes snapped open. In the depths of the obsidian, smoke swirled. He leaned in. The mist cleared, leaving behind nothing but a