Page 61 of Wraith's Revenge


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“Number plate?” the woman said.

Saska gave it, then added, “Tell them Julius Marlowe’s life is on the line and if we’re stopped and he dies, they’ll be held responsible.”

“And that,” I muttered, “is not an empty threat.”

If my father lost his only son on top of losing the daughter who was his pride and joy... well, things would really get ugly for everyone.

I’d no doubt be included in that ugly, but at least I was better prepared for it this time.

Especially when it was no longer just me and Belle against the force of nature that was my father.

We sped on and, after a few minutes, the cops turned off their lights and dropped back.

The ghost’s hand tightened briefly on mine and the ghost whispered, Left now.

Meaning the road we were just about to sweep past.

I yelled the instruction to Saska and gripped the “oh shit” handle tightly. Saska hauled the car onto the dirt road that led into the Black Mountain Nature Reserve, the rear end fishtailing violently for several seconds before she brought it under control.

“Tell your invisible friend,” she said tightly, “that I’d appreciate a little more warning next time.”

The ghost chuckled softly, her breath gently stirring my hair. I shivered lightly and wondered again who this woman was—and why she seemed intent on helping me. If it wasn’t for the fact that the souls of all our dark sorcerer’s victims had been consumed in the initial round of attacks, I might have thought it was Catherine. But that, sadly, was impossible.

Straight ahead, came the soft instruction. They follow the dirt track.

And had busted through a metal gate to do so. But at least it meant we didn’t have to stop.

Saska didn’t have to be told to keep going. Thanks to all the rain, the fresh tire tracks were very visible. She flattened the accelerator and drove on past the wreckage of metal. The dirt road was narrow, with scrubby trees either side that scraped the sides of the car. The trees a few meters further in were larger, their branches arching overhead, forming a tunnel filled with shadows in the gloom of the day.

You near them. The ghost’s voice was breathy and distant, and yet there was something in its tone that tweaked at my instincts.

Of course, said instincts weren’t playing the informational game right now.

“We’re not that far behind them now,” I said to Saska. “How do you want to play this?”

“Given we don’t know who or what we’re facing, I think we should use the element of surprise and ram the bastards.”

I glanced at her, eyebrows raised. “You do remember my brother is in the trunk, right?”

Her grin suggested she did and that she didn’t care. “I’m just talking a little love tap here. Nothing too serious.”

“I’m thinking Julius would not appreciate such a tap.”

“Maybe not, but I can’t spell and drive, so unless you know a spell strong enough to halt a speeding car, we’ve little other choice.”

I hesitated. “I do know one, but I haven’t really used it much.”

“Much” being defined as not at all. In truth, I’d only seen Ashworth use it, and while I was pretty sure I could repeat the spell verbatim, trying it out in a situation like this could be risky.

Although probably not as much as ramming them.

“Then we’ll give that a go first, and if it fails, I’ll hit them.”

We roared toward a Y-intersection. The ghost sent us left with a whispered, Be wary, they have stopped, then her hand left mine and her presence faded.

We swept around the sharp corner, only to discover the other vehicle had stopped sideways across the track. Saska swore and punched down on the brakes, but the track was too muddy for the tires to get much grip. We slowed, but not enough, and ploughed into the other vehicle with metal-crunching force. The impact flung me forward hard before the seat belt snapped tight, preventing me from cracking my head on the dash but bruising my neck and chest in the process.

As white steam billowed from the Fairmont’s nose, two men appeared from the trees to our right. But there was a third person to our left, and while he remained out of sight, he was raising a spell. One that didn’t feel quite right.

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