I cursed as she knocked the gun from my grasp. In a hand-to-hand struggle, we were almost perfectly matched. I still had the advantage; I was on top, and despite her best efforts, she couldn’t get out from under me. I felt her call in my head as she tried to summon the men to her aid. I felt them responding, trying to get to her, despite the fury of the tornadic winds that tried to kick up the storm again. Vicki was really doing herself proud. If this didn’t kill her, I’d buy her something nice. There must be something that a ghost needs.
But first, I had to survive. If Eirene succeeded in taking control of the minds of every male here, it was over: for me, for Emma, and for Kevin.
Fuck that.
I gathered my will, using everything I’d learned on Serenity to throw out my own call. Yes, it was the caw of seagulls versus the sweet melody of songbirds. But there is something very compelling about gulls and I used it to my advantage. I used the energy of my rage, hurt, and fear as fuel to power it. My mind met hers in a battle for the hearts and wills of the men we could reach. The fight was every bit as desperate as the physical battle we were fighting. I didn’t feel Kevin, and even angry as I was at him, I hoped he didn’t feel this, that it wouldn’t control him. In fact, I only felt some of her men. Were the others dead? Gone? I didn’t know. I only knew I couldn’t let her control those who were left.
The power of our clashing wills was too much. I felt their minds flicker like candles in the wind, felt their sanity and will snuffed out.
No! I didn’t mean to—
“You’re weak, Celia!” She said the words out loud, saving her mental energy for the struggle. “You actually care for these pitiful humans.” She considered my guilt a weakness and tried to use it against me. That was a mistake. Yes, I would have to live with the knowledge of what we’d just done for the rest of my life. But Eirene made the mistake of putting a person who’d been a victim in a corner. Every survivor has already been faced with a life-or-death decision and chosen life. Nothing else matters once that choice has been made.
I dived off of her, reaching for the gun.
She scrambled to her feet, but I lashed out in a vicious kick of my bound feet to her knee. Even over the wind I heard the grinding wet pop as it bent backward and tore. She screamed in agony, swallowing sand as she did.
I had the gun. I turned, watching as she crawled away from me as fast as she could manage.
It was hard to see but not as hard as it had been. The winds were dying down. Vicki and Ivy had worn themselves out. I could see Eirene well enough to aim. So I did. I aimed my weapon and thought of Bruno locked in a postcoital embrace with her. I embraced my jealousy. Then I pulled the trigger.
26
I lay on the ground for long minutes, utterly exhausted. The barrier was down. Which meant I could call for help. If only I had the energy. But my mind was as exhausted as my body. My head hurt and at the same time felt strangely empty. The power I’d come to recognize and use these past few weeks was gone. Maybe forever.
I looked around the encampment. Moon- and starlight illuminated a strange and eerie scene. Everything was coated with dust and debris. The dome tents had been pulled up from the ground to roll where they would. One of them was upside down, pressed up against a rock outcropping.
One of the men was lying on his back, breathing but utterly limp, his eyes wide open and empty staring at the night sky. Another sat up, drool tracking from his mouth through the coating of dust that covered a face that was vacant of any semblance of intellect.
I felt a new wave of guilt and my stomach lurched. I did that. At least part of it. I didn’t feel guilty about killing Eirene. But this, oh, God, yes.
Movement and moaning to my left. I turned to see Kevin struggling to free himself of the enveloping sand, some of which was wet and stained dark with his blood. His motions were getting slower with each beat of his heart. Not far from him, Emma stirred. She was coated with dust but not buried, whether from a trick of the winds or by Vicki’s and Ivy’s deliberate action I had no clue.
I didn’t have the energy to stand, even if my feet weren’t still bound. But I had to try to help. Yeah, I was mad at him . . . furious, in fact. But it was his sister he’d been trying to save.
So I started dragging myself toward him. I was halfway there when I heard the sound of a helicopter approaching fast.
Help? I hoped so. I didn’t have any more fight left in me.
I was digging out a very limp and barely breathing Kevin with my bare hands when the chopper landed. I shouted for a medic and was rewarded by running footsteps. Men in blackface and camo pushed me out of the way so that more men with medical equipment could get to work.
Someone knelt beside me. It took me a minute to realize it was Creede. Pulling a knife from his pocket, he sawed silently at the tape that bound my legs. How had he gotten here? Wasn’t he supposed to be at the visitation?
He answered my questions before I could even voice them.
“When things went south, Warren called Bruno on his cell. We worked together with Dottie to find you. Bruno refused to come with us at first. Said he couldn’t face you.” His voice was flat and inflectionless, but his eyes told a different story.
“Thanks.” Not for making Bruno come but for . . . oh, hell, he knew what for.
We sat and watched as Kevin was loaded onto a stretcher. They seemed to know what they were doing. They already had a couple of IVs hooked up to him and were rushing him toward the helicopter, Warren running beside him. He was a werewolf. Bad as it was, with the right medical attention he could probably heal it. Of course he’d be outed at any regular hospital. Which would mean a life sentence in the state facility.
Another medical type was kneeling next to Emma. At a murmured word from Kevin Warren left his son and hurried to where she lay. Warren took her in his arms, holding her close, tears streaming down his face. At first she didn’t react at all. Then her arms moved, snaking around his neck.
“Are you okay?” Creede was looking at me oddly. Had he been talking to me the whole time? Maybe. Probably.
“Hell, no.” I sounded weak, damn it. I forced a little more energy into the next line: “But I will be.” A thought occurred to me. There was something terribly important that needed to be done right now. “John, I need you to do something.”
“What?”
“Eirene had a disk to summon the demon. She dropped it in our fight. Can you use your magic to find it? We need to recover it, get it to the priests. I don’t trust these other guys not to take it, maybe even use it.”
He started to swear. “I’m on it.” He folded his knife, putting it back into his pocket, and rose. “Approximately where should I start?”
I pointed in the general direction of where I’d seen it fall. I watched his face still, taking on an expression of calm concentration. Power washed across my other senses in a surprisingly gentle wave. Then again, he wasn’t trying to do anything, just sense the latent magical energy contained in the disk. I watched for a few minutes as he paced back and forth.
I was still watching when I felt Bruno approach.
He stopped a couple of feet away, squatting down so that we’d be eye-to-eye if I looked at him. He waited for me to look. Willed me to do it. And while I didn’t want to, in the end I gave in.
“Are you all right?”
Stupid question. Did I look all right? But it’s what you say. Hell, it’s what Creede had said just a minute ago. So why did hearing it from Bruno make me angry? Because I was angry. So very angry.
“I will be.”
“Celie . . .” Whatever he had to say, I didn’t want to hear it. I just didn’t. I couldn’t talk to him right now. I was too hurt, too raw from everything that had happened, from everything I’d done. Maybe if he’d rushed over and taken me in his arms like they do in those stupid, romantic movies. But he hadn’t. He’d gone to Irene’s body. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to notice, but I did.
I knew Bruno loved me. Loves me. But he loved her, too. It was plain in the anger and hurt in his face as he’d looked back at her and then at me. And I wasn’t ready to deal with that.
“Don’t, Bruno. Please. Just . . . don’t.”
I don’t know if he would’ve listened if Creede’s voice hadn’t interrupted us. “I’m not finding it. DeLuca, get your ass over here.”
Bruno rose to his feet in a smooth movement. He didn’t say anything, but the look he gave me promised that we’d be having a long conversation soon. Maybe we would; then again, maybe not.
I didn’t watch them any longer. Turning away, I saw Warren holding Emma, an echo of the pietà. I hoped she’d be all right. Hoped it was all worth it. Because the cost had been so hideously high. Eirene needed to die, I truly believed that. But those men . . . and I didn’t even want to think about Kevin and what would happen at any hospital they might take him to. Even if they saved his life, he’d be put in the state asylum. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.
I knew why Kevin and Warren did what they’d done. But that didn’t make it hurt any less. What a frickin’ mess. There were bound to be legal repercussions; I doubted even Kevin’s “company” could sweep this much crap under the rug. If they didn’t, I was so screwed.
In the distance I could hear the chopper coming back. A little bit of dust stirred and I shivered, more from memory than cold. Although, come to think on it, it was a little chilly.
One of the medics finally made it over to me. He squatted down a little ways from me, much as Bruno had done. “How you doin’?” he asked in a voice that was pure Jersey. It was even worse than Bruno’s cousin Little Joey, which was saying something.
It made me smile, for no reason at all.
“You with me? Having trouble focusing?” The medic flicked a penlight in my eyes. It hurt and I found myself hissing.
He saw the fangs and jerked back his hands. “Sorry.”
“S’all right.”
“You’re Graves, then. My name’s Gaetano. We were told you’ve got vampire healing?” He made it a question.