“I—” I turned toward that light, and in the darkness just to the right of it, something slithered.
Henry stepped in front of me as the shadow became a man.
“Roland,” we both said at the same time.
“One down.” McHugh’s whisper seemed to swirl in the air, stir my hair, slide across my skin like a slug. “Two to go.”
“I won’t let you hurt them,” Henry said.
“You won’t be able to stop me any more now than you were able to then.”
“Watch me,” Henry said, and lunged.
* * *
Raye screamed, “Becca!” and swung her arm in a wide arc.
Jeremy Reitman flew over the edge of the cliff and disappeared. Unfortunately he left his athame buried in Becca’s chest.
She wasn’t moving. From here, she didn’t appear to be breathing. But that couldn’t be right. Owen wouldn’t let it be.
He ran across the open grass. He didn’t even notice, or maybe he just didn’t care, that Chief Deb had whirled in their direction. She might be naked but she still held a gun.
He never knew if she was shooting at him or one of the others. The shot fired harmlessly at the sky as Pru plowed into her. Deb’s fury was cut off mid-shriek. From the gurgly sounds that followed, Pru had torn out her throat. From the snarling and slavering, the other wolves were tearing other parts. All Owen cared about was Becca.
He reached her side. There was so much blood. More outside than in, it seemed, which might be why she was so still, ice white. At first he thought she stared at him, then he realized she merely stared.
“No.” He grasped the curved knife, yanked it free, and shook her. Her head lolled.
He had to do something; he didn’t know what. He couldn’t heal—
Heal.
He used the athame to cut the bonds on her arms, her hands, then he grasped her wrist and placed her palm over the wound.
Nothing happened.
“Owen?” Raye stood at his side. At first he thought the rain had started again. Then he understood the drops on her face, on his, were tears. “She’s gone.”
“She can heal.” His voice was desperate, but so was he. “We just have to give her a chance.”
“She can’t heal dead, Owen.”
“How do you know? She’s never tried.”
“Exactly.” Raye sounded as sad and hopeless as he felt, which was why he listened. “Powers require energy, life force, heat. She has none.”
“There has to be a way,” he insisted. “What good is magic if she’s—” His voice broke.
Raye set her hand on his shoulder then shouted, “Cassandra!”
Both the priestess and the fed turned away from the wolves and what was left of Chief Deb. Owen had the presence of mind to look for Reggie and discovered the dog pressed against his leg like a leech. At least he wasn’t snacking on the police chief.
“Good dog,” he said.
“You know how to raise the dead.” Raye pointed at Cassandra, who blinked then glanced at Franklin.
“I—uh—”
“We need her. Get her back.”
“I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”
“Why wouldn’t you want to?” Owen asked.
“Because to do so I’d have to be a shape-shifter, and that’s just asking for a bullet to the head.”
Owen had no idea what to say to that.
“Things happen for a reason,” Cassandra began, but Owen interrupted.
“There’s no reason for this beyond evil and asshole.”
“He has a point,” Franklin observed.
“It’s impossible,” Cassandra said gently. “I’m sorry.”
Becca’s hand had fallen off her wound, and Owen picked it up and held it there again. “Come on, baby, come on.”
He could feel the others exchanging pitying glances, and he hated it, hated them, this, himself. Why had he left her? Then or now?
“Nice toss.” Bobby peered over the edge of the cliff. “He’s toast.”
He returned to Raye’s side and put his arm around her, tugged her close, and she laid her head on his shoulder. Owen lowered his gaze as his throat went thick with longing.
“Though I’m surprised Henry didn’t get to it first.”
“Me too,” Raye agreed.
Owen’s head lifted. “Henry can toss things?”
“Of course. I inherited my power from him.”
“He’s a ghost, but he still has his power.”
“That’s right, but I don’t—” Raye stopped speaking. Her gaze flicked to Owen’s, and her mouth made an O.
“You can summon ghosts?”
She nodded.
“Do it.”
“Henry?” she called. Her gaze swept the clearing.
They waited, listening, though no one but Raye would hear him or see him.
“Well?” Bobby asked.
Raye shook her head. “I’ll have to do a spell to summon him.”