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Of course not, I thought blankly. Why waste the energy to kill me when all he had to do was stand by and watch me suffocate? I was trapped like an animal, splayed out like a trophy already mounted on the wall. Any minute now I was going to go from living human being to useless piece of meat, those pitch-black eyes watching as my spirit finally gave up the fight and left my lifeless—
My spirit.
Some idea skittered across my brain, just out of reach. I couldn’t grasp it, could barely think at all, because I was panicking—oh yes, I was—even though someone had warned me about that, had said it was the very best way to die in a situation where you didn’t have to. And he’d said something else, something he’d pounded into my head so many times I’d gotten sick of the very word—
An image of a pair of furious green eyes floated across my vision. Assess. The problem. Now.
Okay, okay. For some reason, help couldn’t get to me, so I needed to get to help.
Address.
But I couldn’t. I couldn’t move. Not an inch, so how could I—
But that wasn’t right. My body couldn’t move. My spirit was a totally different thing. Because I was Pythia. And Pythias could leave their bodies, could shift into other people’s, could—
But I couldn’t shift, at least not now. And that meant I couldn’t reach the safety of another body, couldn’t do anything except...
Step out.
Yes, I could do that. I could just leave my body behind as if I’d already died. But since I hadn’t yet, it should serve as an anchor holding me to this world. But I didn’t really see the point, as it would leave me merely an unhoused spirit, no better than a ghost. Worse, in fact, since a ghost had a renewable source of energy, and mine would be left behind as soon as I—
As soon as—
As soon—
I couldn’t think, couldn’t finish the thought, because I was losing consciousness. And that meant end and that meant fail and that meant death, and whatever I was going to do, I had to do it, I had to—
Act.
And then I was stumbling backward, dizzy and disoriented and sick, but not as sick as when I caught sight of my body. Tiny and pale and helpless, it lay huddled against the wall, hair smushed around distorted features, face bleached bone white out of fear. The same fear that had one hand locked, white-knuckled, on the edge of a door, a door it couldn’t go through.
But I could, and I didn’t waste any time, diving past the mage and my own almost corpse and into the blessed darkness of the hall.
I called for Billy, desperately, because if anyone knew about these kinds of things, it was him. But either he was out for the count or he’d gone off somewhere, because I didn’t even get a blip in response. This time, it looked like I was on my own.
That was true even when I finally found my bodyguards hanging out in a spare bedroom, playing poker. And weren’t they just looking relaxed. Ties were loosened, collars were popped and a bucket of ice sat on the floor with a dozen frosty longnecks poking out of the top. I guess so they wouldn’t have to make the huge trek all the way to the kitchen.
Where, you know, they might have seen someone trying to kill me.
“Comfy?” I asked harshly, but of course nobody heard.
I watched them play cards for a second, happy and carefree and unconcerned about the knife-wielding mage prowling the apartment or my trip to la-la land or anything but their stupid, stupid game, which I sent flying with a sudden swipe of my hand. Bills fluttered, chips flew, and cards reshuffled themselves all over the floor. And that was before I tipped over their damn card table.
Of course, I knew this wasn’t how it was supposed to work. The name of the game for ghosts was to preserve energy. To guard every tiny scrap carefully, jealously, spending it in little dribs and drabs and only when absolutely necessary. Because to run out was to die.
But I was about to die anyway, and I didn’t give a crap about the rules. I wasn’t trying to conserve energy; I was spending it all in one last, crazy spree. At least I’ll go out with a bang, I thought, laughing hysterically. And then I grabbed a beer and threw it at the nearest vamp’s head.
I missed, but it made a satisfying thump when it hit the wall, so I did it again. And again and again as the vamps stumbled back, knocking over chairs and staring around wildly. Several pulled guns, but they had nothing to shoot.
“Why do I have bodyguards, huh?” I yelled, throwing a bottle against the dresser, which exploded with a satisfying crash.
“What is the freaking point?” Another hit the mirror, leaving a big web of cracks radiating out from the center.
“We have to watch you sleep, Cassie!” Thud.
“And eat, Cassie!” Bang.
“And paint your freaking toenails, Cassie!” Smash.
