Page 35 of Panther in the Shadows
"No." Moira's voice breaks. "No, no, no. I had him. I was breaking the binding. He was coming back. He was?—"
The man's body slides from my grip, falling toward the water with inevitable gravity. I try to catch him. Try to hold on. But the magic pulling him is too strong. Invisible hooks drag him across the rocks, leaving trails of blood. He tumbles into the waves like he was always meant to be there.
The water accepts him. Claims him. Pulls him down. Within seconds, he disappears beneath the surface. The ripples fade. The ocean returns to its natural rhythm as if nothing happened.
Moira drops to her knees at the waterline. Grief and rage war across her face. Her hands dig into the wet sand. "We failed. We were right here and we still failed."
"The summoner killed him remotely. Made him die rather than let us save him." The tactical part of my mind catalogs the information even as fury burns through my gut. "Which means they knew we were here. Knew we were waiting. This was a test."
"A test we failed." Her voice comes hollow. "He's dead. The fifth victim. Another drowned spirit for their ritual."
Movement in deeper water draws my attention. Something pale rises just beneath the surface. Not the man we just lost. Something else. Something that's been waiting.
A face. Features becoming clear as it floats closer to shore.
Pale skin. Dark hair streaming like seaweed. A child's face frozen in the moment of drowning. Features I recognize from photographs in Moira's inn.
Elspeth.
The corpse watches us with dead eyes that hold intelligence they shouldn't. Awareness no animated body should possess. Then the mouth opens. That same terrible laughter bubbles up from deep water. Mocking. Triumphant. Personal.
The sound destroys something inside Moira. I see it happen. Watch her face crumble. Watch the years of guilt and grief crash down all at once.
She makes a sound like breaking glass. Her body moves before thought can intervene. She lunges toward the water. Toward her sister's animated corpse. Toward the thing using Elspeth's death as entertainment.
I catch her around the waist, haul her backward with all my strength. "Not happening. That's what they want. They're baiting you. Drawing you into the water where they're strongest."
"That's my sister!" She fights my grip with surprising strength, using sea witch power to make herself heavier, harder to hold. "That's Elspeth! I can't just leave her there! I have to?—"
"That's not your sister." Each word comes harsh because she needs to hear truth, not comfort. "Your sister is dead. Has been dead for years. What's wearing her face is just animated meat being used to hurt you. And I won't let you walk into that trap."
"Let me go!" Her elbow catches my ribs. Not hard enough to break anything but enough to hurt. "You don't understand. That's my baby sister. I'm supposed to protect her. I'm supposed to?—"
The corpse-thing wearing Elspeth's face tilts its head. Studies us with those dead eyes. Then it opens its mouth, and that terrible laughter pours out. The same child's laughter from before, but closer now. More personal. Each giggle a knife twist in Moira's guilt.
The fight drains from Moira completely. She goes boneless in my arms, every ounce of strength vanishing. "No. No, please. Not her face. Don't use her face like that."
The thing continues to laugh. Sinks beneath the surface. Gone as suddenly as it appeared. The corpse-things that attacked us melt back into the water. Within seconds, the beach is empty except for us and the bloodstains.
"We're leaving. Now." I lift Moira despite protest. Carry her away from the waterline. Away from the pale face that couldreappear any moment. Away from the laughter that still seems to echo across the rocks.
CHAPTER 9
RAFE
By the time we reach the car, she's stopped fighting. Just slumps against the passenger seat while I drive too fast through darkness. Back to the warehouse. Back to the only space on this island that feels defensible.
The drive passes in silence. She stares out the window at nothing. Tears track down her face but she doesn't make a sound.
At the warehouse, I pull into the hidden garage beneath the main building. The space that leads to my private quarters.
She moves like a ghost climbing from the car. Follows when I lead her toward the stairs. But there's no life in her movements. Just mechanical compliance.
The door to my quarters locks behind us. Secure. Safe. As protected as anywhere on this island can be.
"We failed." Her voice comes hollow. "Fifth victim died right in front of us. We couldn't save him."
"The summoner killed him remotely. Made him die rather than let us intervene. That's not failure. That's calculated murder designed to hurt you specifically."
