Jared swaggers closer. I hold my ground, mere feet from the edge of the cliff and the rushing river below. I lift my hands higher.
“I won’t go with you,” I sputter.
He takes a deep breath and blows it out. “You’ll either get in the passenger’s seat of that car”—he points to the Maserati in the driveway, which is barely visible through the fog—“or I’ll shoot you here and stow your bleeding bitch ass in the trunk. I’d rather not stain my interior.”
The buzz of magic rises in my torso. “You’re going to have to shoot me.”
He’s an arm’s length away now. I peek over the edge at the river churning behind me. If I jump, there’s no way I’d survive. It’s too far of a fall. There’s nowhere to go but through Jared.
“Tony always said you were a pain in the ass.”
I rush him with a speed only possible because it’s fueled by my ancestors, shoving the gun straight up. It goes off with a pop. Whirling, I toss the blanket over his head and gun and then run for the house.
Another gunshot has me diving for the grass.
He’s over me in an instant. My heel connects with the gun and it flies out of his hand, skimming across the dew-covered lawn.
“Bitch!”
He dives on top of me, his fingers closing around my throat. The link between Phantom and me goes taut, and then I sense my grandfather’s spirit filling my right arm. I slam my fist into Jared’s nose, harder than I’ve ever punched anything in my life. He howls but retaliates with a punch to the side of my head. I block the worst of it and get another blow in. Enough to struggle out from under him and stagger to my feet. I run for the house, but I can’t get my feet under me fast enough. A blow hits me between the shoulder blades, knocking my breath from my lungs. Ouch. I go down again, slamming into the cold lawn.
His fingers dig into my arm and he rolls me over, trying to drag me up and toward the car. I stick my leg between his and roll, breaking his balance. As he goes down, I rise up. I attempt to stomp on his balls, but he twists out of the way, right toward the dropped gun. His hand clasps the weapon.
“Fucking bitch. Playtime is over.” He levels the gun at my head.
He’s between me and the house, so I race for the cliffs, straight into the thickening fog. He can’t shoot what he can’t see.
“God damn it.”
Around me, the fog takes on a red hue and ash snows, smoky and thick. I hear Jared’s footsteps behind me, herding me toward the edge of the cliff again. I stop when I can go no farther and turn to face my attacker.
“Use the elements,” Phantom prompts.
I reach for the buzz I associate with fire and direct it at Jared’s coat. The wool bursts into flame just as he reaches me and the edge.
“What the fuck?” He tries to strip off the coat, but the flames grow higher, engulfing him. He stumbles toward me.
I fake, then duck and weave. With both hands, I shove hard against his back, ignoring the lick of the flames against my skin.
He staggers toward the edge, circling his arms. His hand shoots toward me, snatches my wrist, and then he tumbles over the edge.
“Fuck!” I follow him over, the river racing toward us, his coat still burning as we fall.
“Use the air,” Phantom’s voice snaps. The vibration inside me engages, and a hard gust of wind answers my call, blowing against me, lifting me. The magic extinguishes Jared’s coat but otherwise misses him entirely. My descent slows, but his does not. I grunt as his weight threatens to dislocate my shoulder. But his grip slides down my arm to my open hand, and with a shake of my sweaty palm, he loses purchase.
He falls, his eyes wide with mounting fear, into the rocky river below.
The air pushes me harder, up, up, up, back onto the side of the cliff. Not flying per se but lifting, like I’m carried by a hurricane. I can’t even breathe until the gale sets me down and slithers away like a serpent in search of tall grasses.
I peer over the edge, but Jared is gone. The river babbles below, the water holding no rumor of what it knows. But then, his body is likely long gone, washed away. I barely have a chance to feel relieved before black spots circle at the edge of my vision and the familiar hot drip of blood starts under my nose. I raise my fingers to it and the come away red. Damn it! I’ve overused my magic.
Phantom nudges my knee with their nose. “Better get inside before you pass out.”
I nod, snagging the blanket off the ground and wrapping it around my shivering shoulders as I stumble toward the house. It feels like miles before I reach the stoop, but somehow I make it. I’m almost through the door when I spot the problem lurking in my driveway.
Exhausted, I wipe the back of my hand across my bloody face and ask Phantom, “What do I do about his Maserati?”
22
