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Isis shoots an arc of golden energy at the siren, healing her instantly.
Is Hekima being nice to the siren because she’s not on his list? Nah, that’s giving him too much credit. The real reason becomes apparent a moment later. Gulping in a large breath of air, Vickie shrieks at a nearby Councilor on the list, and two seconds later, only the man’s skeleton remains.
Puck. What do I do? I can’t get to Hekima, and if Nina keeps flinging those benches around, I might get knocked out too.
I sweep my gaze over the room for ideas and spot Ariel fighting Kain. There’s too much hatred on their faces for two people who don’t know each other—Hekima’s illusions in action again.
Ariel smashes a fist into Kain’s ear. He strikes back. She blocks with her forearm, but the force of his hit is so powerful that the back of her hand recoils and splits her lip.
Crap. Fighting Kain isn’t as easy as taking down Filth—and I don’t know if Ariel even realizes she’s battling a vampire.
Another bench piece crashes down next to my feet, courtesy of Nina. Now that could work. I scan the floor for the biggest chunk of stone I can lift and find one that weighs about thirty pounds. Straining, I raise the rock above my head and charge at Kain.
Oblivious to my existence, Kain lands a punch in Ariel’s midsection. Ariel crumples in pain.
Before Kain can go for the kill, I slam the stone into his head.
The vampire sways, a stunned look on his face. Ariel recovers enough to stumble toward him, and I shove the stone into her hands. With a startled expression, she grabs on. I can’t guess what it must feel like to have a bloody rock materialize in your grasp, but Ariel’s a trooper. She doesn’t waste time pondering her good fortune.
Easily lifting the stone, she smashes it into Kain’s face.
Kain staggers back.
Ariel hits him again.
Kain stumbles to the floor.
Ariel jumps on his chest and slams the rock down on his forehead, again and again.
“Enough!” I yell at her, but she doesn’t seem to hear me. She bashes and bashes what remains of Kain’s head, way past the point of his demise. Clearly, whatever illusion Hekima is giving her has generated a murderous rage.
I feel a surge of pity for the vampire—for all our differences, he was just trying to do his job—but I remind myself that Kain’s death is on Hekima’s conscience. Same goes for the Councilors Hekima wanted revenge on.
They’re dead now too.
But Hekima himself? He’s staring at me.
Puck.
I frantically look for a smaller rock, but he points his hand at Nina.
“Wait!” I yell.
Too late.
An invisible telekinetic force hurls me into the air.
Chapter Forty-Seven
I flail as I sail through the air.
This isn’t the dream world. This flight will end in a painful crash at best, a bashed-in head à la Kain at worst. Heart pounding, I rummage through my pockets for something to throw at Hekima.
Nina boomerangs me a new direction, breaking my concentration. Does she think I’m a drone or something?
My patting hands discover an object in the last pocket I check. Is that what I think it is? Clearly, sleep deprivation made my memory worse than I thought. Here’s yet another tool from the Bernard job I’ve completely forgotten about.
I pull out the sleep grenade as Nina makes me circle the room even faster.
If I use the grenade, everyone here will fall asleep. That includes Nina, which means I’ll crash-land. If I don’t use the grenade, she’s bound to tire of playing with her drone and crash me into something. Not a big difference. At least this way, I stand a chance.
So be it.
Holding my breath, I activate the grenade and toss it.
Gas fills the room, and I feel myself plummet. I keep holding my breath until I land atop Chester’s sleeping body.
Ouch. That hurt, but I’ll definitely live. But there’s one problem: I can’t hold my breath any longer.
Lungs screaming for air, I inhale—and join everyone in sleep.
Chapter Forty-Eight
I’m standing under a shower that sprays tomato juice instead of water, soaking the pink tutu I’m wearing. A purple llama stands just outside the stream, chewing the shower curtain.
“Can you pass me the body wash?” the llama says in a Scottish accent, after the curtain is kaput.
I obligingly reach for the bottle, only to notice something missing from my wrist.
Pom isn’t where he should be.
Of course. I’m dreaming. For the millionth time, I wonder why such absurdities as the tutu and the llama don’t clue me in.
Recalling what happened right before I fell asleep, I change my outfit and head for my dream palace.
I’m lucky Chester fell where he did. Was that his luck or mine? It’s possible that his probability power guided my fall so as to save him from Hekima’s trap. Hopefully that means I can figure out how to do exactly that.
