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The shadows near the back fence shift, and I lock eyes with the black dog as it hurtles toward me. Its eyes glow like red embers, and matted fur hangs from its sides, exposing rotting meat and glistening bones.
Fear spikes through me, and I raise my baton, bracing for impact. The stench of death strengthens, and the fiery, hellish gaze fills my vision.
I swing, aiming for the dog’s stomach, but to my astonishment, my weapon sweeps right through, like hitting smoke. Then the black dog disappears into my torso and comes out my back, leaving a bone-numbing cold seeping into my body. My lungs freeze, and numbness creeps across my lips, bringing me to my knees.
“Pen!” the shout comes from behind me.
They were right on my heels—only seconds had passed—but everything moves in slow motion.
As I fall, I twist to my side, the fog of my breath creating a screen before my eyes. The stench of blood and death stick in my lungs, the chlorine from the pool burning my nose.
My teams’ voices turn distant, frost crackling in my ears, and the world around me blurs, shadows dancing at the edge of my vision.
Sharpe rounds the corner of the house, and his face twists with fear when he sees me on the ground. Then his expression hardens, and he snaps his wand out to face the black dog streaking toward him, its back legs turning transparent as it begins to slip back through the veil, returning to its master.
Xander appears behind him as the black dog leaps, its teeth bared.
Sharpe raises his baton, the same weapon I carry. I try to warn him, to tell him it won’t work, but ice freezes my vocal cords.
Xander’s mouth opens on a shout I can’t hear, but Sharpe does and, as he dodges to the side, the witch flings out his hand.
A cloud of white and black surrounds the monster, and in an instant, its body turns to smoke.
Sharpe rushes toward me, my name forming on his lips.
He reaches for me, but Xander yanks him back, shaking his head and pointing.
Confused, I try to look, but my eyes won’t move, my lids frozen open.
The puffs of air passing my lips grow slower and less frequent, the taste of fear freezing in my windpipe, as shadows creep over my vision.
Desperate, I reach for my firebird to burn away the cold and find her locked in icy shackles.
Sharpe and Xander turn away from me, the muscles in their throats straining, while the strobe of blue and red lights fills the sky.
Cops sure respond fast in rich neighborhoods.
Darius and Flint racing toward me is the last thing I see before ice coats my eyes.
real cops
- Sharpe -
I can’t breathe as I stare at Pen, panic threatening to overtake me.
As I struggle to reach her, Xander strains to stop me. “You can’t! Look at the ice! It’s spreading!”
A thick layer of ice encases her body, her lips turning blue as she stares sightlessly at us. Frost crackles on the grass surrounding her, expanding in a ring. Where it touches the pool, the water freezes, icicles reaching like fingers for the dead judge who floats at the center.
“Marc! Darius!” Terror tightens my voice as I fight against Xander’s hold. “Flint!”
The world between me and Pen blurs, the space folding, and with a snap, I reappear halfway across the backyard, almost close enough to touch the ice, with Xander still attached to my back like a shackle.
“Dammit, Sharpe!” Xander throws out a hand, and a golden circle of ley line magic surrounds us. “Throwing yourself into the trap won’t save her!”
Flint and Darius race around the corner of the house and take in the scene at a glance before rushing forward.
As soon as Flint spots Pen, his face pales. “Her light’s fading!”
