I shifted uncomfortably. “There’s something to be said for doing a simple countdown so we’re all going in the same direction. No sense in playing tug-of-war if you don’t have to.”
“Push and shove all you want,” Evelyn said. “But you’ll only be straining against a door marked ‘pull.’ Your talent is etheric, not empathic. You need more range.”
I worried that Evelyn was right, and maybe Jacob was biased, and he thought a little too highly of my abilities. Or maybe he’djust seen me do enough impossible things that he was starting to expect it. Either way, I really didn’t want to do the exact opposite of what he was asking.
Evelyn leaned in to me and said, “Mr. Boswell is worried. And Sarah’s emotions seem eager to me…maybe too eager.”
“Listen to me, Sarah.” I planted myself in front of Boswell and sucked down white light for all I was worth. I imagined it flowing to me. Surrounding me. Surrounding us. “Just be calm. Focus on your body and let yourself go where you belong.”
“But what about Zach? You told me Zach would be here so I could break it off with him for good.”
“He’s hardly gonna take you seriously if you’re a middle-aged man.”
“I don’t care—you said he’d be here, and he isn’t.”
“We’ve got his number—we’ll give him a call. Just as soon as you get back in your own body.”
“No way. Not good enough. I’m staying right where I am until Zach gets here.”
We were all so focused on the Sarahs that no one noticed someone else had joined the party…until that someone spoke. “Then, here I am.”
If I’d never heard that smarmy, smug tone of voice again, it would be too soon.
Zachary Sledge.
We all whirled around. Jacob said, “The front door was locked.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said, “there’s a trick window in back.” And apparently everyone and their brother knew it. Sledgewasstalking the place…and the agent assigned to watch for him deserved a big, fatnon-satisfactorygrade on their next evaluation.
Sledge filled the bedroom door, all attitude and muscle. He even managed to stand like a douchebag, with his chest thrust out and a stance that was too wide, like he thought he had some kind of superpowers. And in his grip was a familiar black and tan flecked bird.
He petted its head with a cupped hand in a gesture that was oozing with threat. Murray Haskel was right to be scared of the guy. Reporting his bird wasn’t the only thing Sledge was capable of.
“What’re we all talking about?” he asked. “You don’t need to stop on account of me.” He grinned even wider, and when nobody volunteered anything, he turned to Sarah’s body. “Wow, babe, you’ve really let yourself go. But don’t worry. I know that once you settle back down with me, you’ll try harder to be the person you’re capable of being.”
He was so focused on his ex that he didn’t see the random doofus coming.
I’d never seen Boswell’s lumbering body move so fast—but Sarah was driving. One minute they were right there with me, sharing in the white light, and the next they were elbowing Evelyn out of the way to lunge at Sledge.
Well, shit.
Sarah’d had no intention of reuniting with her body. She wanted to even the playing field—as someone who stood achance of doing some real damage. And now she had sheer size on her side.
No wonder Sarah’s emotional self was eager. It didn’t just want the last word with Zach. It wanted payback. I could only imagine what a rush it would be to confront someone who’d hurt you, now bigger and stronger and fully able to lay the guy out.
“What the fu—?” Zach ducked and dodged. The bird erupted from his grasp and fluttered up to the ceiling fixture, where it landed on the light with a disconcerting haw-haw-haw.
Pounding on the front door. The downstairs neighbor’s voice calling out, “Give her back!”
No time for that. Sarah might have toddler-level fighting skills—but she was big now, and she was pissed.
“Dude, I willhurtyou,” Sledge spluttered as he broke free from Boswell’s massive hands. They grabbed again, as if Sarah would gladly use them to rip her ex’s head clean off.
“On the ground,” Jacob barked at Boswell’s body. Like I kept salt in the pocket of my suit coat, Jacob kept a zip tie in his, and he was angling with it to subdue the attacker.
I should assist—all my training said so—but Boswell’s body moved like it was on PCP—erratic, with no regard for its own welfare. Because it was just temporary. And the consciousness running it wouldn’t pay any of the consequences.
Evelyn pressed the SPECs into my hand. “Get her out of there. Before she does serious damage.”
