wild, her face streaked with tears, still wearing the hospital gown she'd probably been in when Davina had taken her. She looked haggard and tired and terrified.
"Millie."
"You were right, Liv," she said. "She's not my friend."
"It's okay," I said. "Millie, just ... fight her."
"I can't." She sniffled. "Tell Peach and Nick that I'm so sorry."
And with that, she lifted one hand, and I saw the moonlight glinting off of it before I could fully process what it was: a chef's knife, industrial grade and sharp.
I turned around to face Davina. "What the hell are you doing? Let her go!"
Davina rolled her eyes. "I'm doing what I have to do, baby. That's what I always do." She motioned to Millie, and when I turned, Millie had the chef's knife in both hands, not pointed at me, but at herself. At her heart.
"Liv, please..." Millie said, tears rolling down her face. "Help."
"Do what I tell you to do," Davina said, "or Millie here commits hari-kari right in front of you."
I twirled around to face Davina. "Stop it!"
"Call off your conduits. Send everyone home, and give me my fucking power," Davina said, "or this gets real ugly, real fast."
I turned back to Millie, whose eyes were big, focused on the knife poised at her heart. I closed my eyes, concentrated what power I'd borrowed from Davina, and shot it out toward the knife, as well as I could. It morphed into something sort of lizardish, wriggling in Millie's hand until she couldn't keep hold of it anymore. It fell to the ground and skittered away toward the water, which was good, but I'd just spent everything I had.
Which was very, very bad.
"Oh, gee, that's a damn shame," Davina said. "Whatever will I do now?"
She reached out her hand, curling her fingers into an eerie grip, and behind me, I heard Millie gasp and choke. I turned to see her, feet dangling and kicking beneath her, clawing at her neck.
"Stop!" I screamed, and started toward Davina, but she held up her free hand, ticking her index finger in warning.
"Ah, ah, ah," she said, and Millie gurgled behind me. "Call off your dogs. Send them home, or your friend here dies a wretched death."
"Okay!" I held out my hands, and while I could hear Millie struggling behind me, Davina's eyes were on me; she wasn't releasing Millie, but neither was she tightening her grip.
"All right, guys. You heard her. Go."
There was silence in the darkness, but around me Peach, Nick, Stacy, Grace, and Addie moved in closer, preparing to fight; I could feel them like little points of psychic light. I could feel my power flowing through them, and theirs flowing back to me, like daylight. We could take Davina. Maybe. But we definitely couldn't do it before she killed Millie, and I couldn't take that chance.
"Go!" I hollered, my voice bouncing off the trees. I felt their resistance, but they were mine, and I controlled them; one by one, they backed off, disappearing into the forest, taking my power with them. One by one, bit by bit, I lost the only advantage I had.
"They're gone," I said finally. "I held up my end of the bargain." I glanced back at Millie. She was alive, still clutching fruitlessly at her neck, but she was weakening. She wouldn't make it much longer.
"Goddamnit, Davina. Let her go!"
Behind me, Millie cried out, and I could see Davina's fingers clutching deeper into the air as her magical grip on Millie's throat tightened.
"Stop! We had a deal!"
"You're right. We did. But you know what, baby?" Davina's eyes glinted with malice and insanity, and I felt the coldness in her expression sink into me. "You shouldn't have pissed me off."
Behind me, I heard a cracking sound, like thick branches snapping, but by the time I turned around, it was already over. Millie's head was lolling on her shoulders at an unnatural angle, her dead eyes blank in the moonlight as her body fell to the ground, lifeless.
"Millie!" I screamed, but it was already too late. I fell to the ground trying to reach for her, but the white sand on the outside of the circle started to rise up and move around the barrier, like a cyclone. I pulled my knees in and skittered as far to the edge of the circle, only stopping when my hand touched the wall of flying sand. I shrieked at the pain and pulled it back in to me, the knuckles sanded raw and bleeding.