“Deidre, don’t! Don’t go in there!” she called.
The banshee was still, but she turned to stare at Angela and smile.
Angela raced on. She made her way through a twist of trees and heard a sudden shout of warning. Bursting into a clearing, she saw Skye had come upon the leprechaun.
And the leprechaun was armed.
At the same time, she looked backwards quickly to see if Jackson and Zach were near.
Instead, she saw the banshee heading into the haunted house.
And she looked for Zach and Jackson again.
Because she knew that she should be heading after their banshee.
*
Jackson
“Drop the knife!” Jackson ordered. “What are you, crazy? You have armed agents against you here, not a sweet sixteen-year-old kid!”
“I will let her go if you just leave!” the leprechaun said.
The voice was feminine. Of course, with the red wig and the get-up the person was wearing, it was hard to tell.
Skye was looking at him with steady eyes while being held by the leprechaun, and he knew she would do what was necessary when the time was right.
“Drop it,” came another voice.
And he saw Zach was right across from him, his Glock drawn as he looked at the leprechaun.
“Drop it,” he said, “because here’s the thing. You may think you can draw that knife faster than I can shoot a bullet. But I’m good. Sorry, I mean really, really good. Drop the knife. Then you can tell us where to find Colleen Donegal.”
“Never!” the leprechaun whispered. “Colleen . . . no. She belongs where she is!”
“Why are you trying to hurt Sean Donegal?” Skye asked her, speaking carefully since the young woman had the business side of a blade against her throat.
“Hurt Sean! I’m trying to save him, to give him something real!” the leprechaun said.
“Okay, well, what you’re doing is very, very wrong!” Jackson told her. “Please. We don’t want to hurt you in any way. We need to understand what is happening. If you need help, we want to help you—”
“You don’t want to help me!” the leprechaun cried.
Talking didn’t seem to be doing the trick here. But no matter how good he and Zach might be with their weapons, taking a shot might be the end of Skye instead of the leprechaun.
“Please—” he began.
But that was when something suddenly flew through the air—so suddenly that every one of them was given a few seconds pause.
He caught a brief glimpse of the flying object.
It was a mini gold ball.
And it struck the leprechaun dead center in the forehead, giving Skye a chance to duck back, break the leprechaun’s hold, catch her knife hand with such a slam that knife went flying, and then catch the leprechaun’s arm in a twist, bringing the leprechaun to its knees.
Angela came striding into the clearing. She was smiling. “Hey, I’m horrible on a mini golf course, but that was a pretty good swing and hit, eh?”
“Perfection!” Skye assured her. And walking to the leprechaun, she jerked the bright red wig off and stared down at what now evidently appeared to be a woman.
