Page 69 of Strength of Desire

But I didn’t feel right leaving her alone.

Dammit, why had I insisted on doing the hunt by myself? I would have given anything for Felix’s rationality right now, or even Ash’s irrepressible energy. For someone to help me figure out what to do.

All I could think was to watch and wait, and to be ready to help if her trance broke.

Not if, I told myself.When. It would break. I wasnotgiving up on her.

Erika, for her part, seemed to have forgotten I existed. She was facing front again, her features once more calm and slack. She held the knife out in front of her and traced a shape in the air. A circle, crossed twice from right to left and top to bottom. Then came four X’s in a square surrounding the circle.

She crossed the square from corner to corner, then brought the knife back to her body. She muttered something, and her left hand rose to meet her right. Without warning, she slashed the blade across her left palm, opening a bloody gash in her skin.

I gasped, but she didn’t. If she felt any pain at all, it didn’t show. She held her left hand out now, droplets of blood falling into the snow at her feet. She retraced the shape in the air, then brought her bloody hand across the shape in a harsh motion, left to right. Finally, she stuck her hand forward, closed it into a fist, and twisted, like she was opening a door.

I sucked in another sharp breath as the air in front of Erika began to shimmer. I took another step back, too, pressing myself against the tree. I wasn’t going to leave her alone, but some deep, lizard-brain part of me whispered that it was a bad idea to be exposed right now.

The shimmering intensified, pressing itself into a vertical line, hovering a foot off the ground. Then it widened, and even Erika took a step back at that point. When it was a rectangle three feet wide, something appeared in the middle. Something dark and solid and—was that a person?

The shape pushed through, first an elbow, then a shoulder and wrist, then torso, then an entire man. He stepped out of the door in the air and into the snow in front of Erika, straightening the lapels of his overcoat as he did so. The door remained open behind him, sparkling.

The man wore all black, or at least all dark colors. It was hard to tell in this light. He wore a heavy overcoat that reached below his knees, single breasted and buttoned up against the snow. Dark trousers showed beneath it, and a nice-looking pair of wing-tip shoes beneath those, all wrong for standing in the snow. A wool scarf was tucked into the neckline of his coat, and a felted trilby hat topped his head. He looked very dapper, and very out of place in the middle of the woods.

His face was ordinary looking. Loosely cropped black hair, dense with curls. Dark eyes, though they could have been any color in the daylight. His features were pleasant—high cheekbones, a broad nose, and lips that looked like they enjoyed smiling.

He did smile, in fact, as he looked at Erika standing before him.

“Thank you, dear,” he said. He reached out and stroked a hand across the top of her head, the way you’d pet a dog. He brought one long braid over her shoulder and patted it down. “I appreciate all you’ve done. I’ll be taking that now.”

He took the knife from Erika. She didn’t resist him at all. Didn’t even seem to know what was happening. She was still in her trance, whatever it was. The man slipped the knife into his coat pocket.

Sweat broke out on my face, despite the cold. Who was this guy? Where had he come from, and why? He didn’t seem overtly monstrous. If anything, there was something vaguely familiar about him, but I was pretty sure I would have remembered meeting him before.

He had the type of face you wanted to trust, and yet I wasn’t sure I should. The man had been kind to Erika so far, but all my senses still screamed that something was wrong.

The man raised his hand to her face, pressing the backs of his fingers to her cheek like a concerned mother. His other hand moved in his coat pocket. He pulled out a gun.

“A pity I have to kill you now,” he said softly. “I promise, it’s nothing personal.”

19

CORY

“No!” I yelled, bursting into the clearing. I was moving before I was even aware of it. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Killing her,” the man said, turning to look at me. Curiosity painted his features. “And now you, too, I suppose. Can’t have you running around now that you’ve seen me.”

“Who are you?” I demanded.

As the man opened his mouth to speak, I took advantage of his split attention and rushed in to grab Erika’s arm. I tugged, pulling her back, away from the gun. But the man recovered quickly. He stepped forward and hooked an arm around her torso, pulling in the other direction.

He was strong. I was surprised at how long I was able to hold on, to fight. I must have been learning something in Combat after all. But in the end, it was no real contest.

The man ripped Erika’s arm from my grasp and hugged her tightly to himself, her back pressed against his chest. One arm encircled her waist, pinning her in place. His free hand brought the gun up to her head and pressed it to her temple.

I lunged forward again, but he made a show of clicking the safety off, tutting at me.

“Uh-uh. I’d stay right there, unless you want her to die.”

“You’ve already said you’re going to kill her.” Rage and frustration welled inside me. Why couldn’t I do more to help her? Why was I so useless?

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