“Shit, shit, shit.” Josie hauled me back then knelt and bound my wound with a scrap of her shirt. “This isnotgood.”
Forget shock. I was miles beyond it. And yet still too dangerously close to Kierce for my own good.
“How dare you touch her.” Kierce vibrated with fury. “What gives you the right?”
“I gave him permission.” I curled my fingers into my palm to keep from touching him. “It’s okay, Kierce.”
The sound of my voice flipped a switch in him. He could tell it too. His expression fell as he tossed Ankou aside, not caring where he landed, and took one single prowling step toward me.
Quicker than a blink, Josie’s vines shot around his neck and yanked him back until his spine smacked into the remnants of his cage. She had him bundled in thorns, his blood dotting the sand, before I could flinch.
“I’m sorry, Birdfriend.” She cinched him tighter. “But I know you want to keep Frankie safe too.”
“Yes,” he hissed, his expression feral, his eyes promising her a slow death.
Carter, intercepting his meaning, eased closer to my sister, her eyes flat and dark.
“Why the throat?” Ankou rubbed his raw skin. “Why does everyone always go for the throat?”
“To shut you up,” Josie and I said together.
“Rude.” Ankou bent to collect my bloody nub then tossed it to Kierce. “Catch.” He laughed when it bounced off his chest. “Oops.” He pressed a hand to his mouth. “I forgot.” He wiggled his fingers. “No hands.”
The omen, who clearly didn’t want me donating a bone for any reason, swooped down to fetch it.
Anunit beat her to it, standing over the toe, daring the bird to try getting past her.
“This is a terrible idea.” The omen made a wide loop. “Your father will not be pleased, my duck.”
To hurry things along, I shooed Anunit aside and picked up the toe then handed it to Ankou.
And if I dry-heaved after relinquishing it, well, try playing hot potato with your own amputated toe sometime.
“Brace yourself, old friend,” Ankou murmured, shaping the bone into a bullet with his powers.
With a wind-up to do a pro baseball pitcher proud, Ankou threw the toe fragment.
Kierce screamed, bucking against his restraints, as the projectile lodged in his stomach.
Blood loss was making me dizzy, tears blinding me, but I shoved everyone away who tried to help me.
A flurry of black motes, similar to those that heralded Kierce’s death on the mortal plane, swirled around me. Ankou gestured with his hands, willing the bone to obey him, and I could tell from Kierce’s shout the moment the bullet began to ricochet within him.
“Mary Frances Talbot.”
Sound thinned to a low buzz before dialing down to nothing. Blurred edges smeared my vision until total darkness overtook me. I thought I had fainted, but a solid floor pressed beneath my feet. I was off kilter without a pinky toe, so I threw my arms out to my sides for balance and ventured a hesitant step…
…and stumbled into the glaring light of a palatial living room straight out of a home décor magazine.
White marble floors. Gray leather couches. Black satin pillows.
A hazy sort of exhaustion weighted my limbs, probably from the blood loss. “Where am I?”
“Home sweet home,” Ankou announced from beside me, when I was certain I had been alone.
“This isn’t my home.” I retreated a step, hoping the darkness engulfed me again. “Get me out of here.”
“Nice digs, right?” Ankou ignored the demand, edging closer to me. “Your dad has a thing for art.”
