Greywalker - Kat Richardson [138]
Her scream shook the house. I sprawled to the floor as Mara crawled the last few feet to close the circle. The rush of magic as the circle closed rattled my teeth, and the temperature plummeted ten degrees.
“Mirror!” Carlos yelled. I could see his groping hand for a moment under the barrage of Sergeyev’s assault.
Edward grabbed a ragged piece of the broken mirror and threw it. Carlos’s hand reached for it, dark, dead blood flying wide. The ghost flung himself against the sparkling shard of mirror. It cut into his form, slicing the hot threads of power that cloaked them, melting and flowing into him.
Alice’s heels beat the floor into buckling ripples and her teeth snapped as she pawed at the rod through her chest. Beside her, Sergeyev shimmered silver and red, inching toward solidity as his appearance slid and wavered over his uncanny surface.
The room heaved and shuddered. Sergeyev screamed and dove at Carlos, slashing him with razor hands. Cameron and I both lurched forward. I pulled up short, held back by a stab across my chest.
Mara snatched him back. “Don’t break it or we’re done for,” she cried.
“Fire!” Carlos shouted, one hand groping as he tried to roll away from the glittering monstrosity that tore at him. “Please!”
Mara caught her breath and Edward froze. He gave a jerking nod and Mara scrabbled in her pockets, yanking out a wooden kitchen match. She struck it and tossed it over the chalked circle.
The lines and charms blazed upward in flame, then bit into the dry wood of the floor. Beyond them, Carlos muttered, gasping and waning. Edward backed from the fire, stumbling, blind, over Alice, while Cameron pounded the floor with his fists, howling, “No, no, no!”
I looked toward the door and saw more flames. The fire was spreading on the lines of force. Alice dragged herself from the floor, lurching for Edward through the growing inferno. I couldn’t move to stop her and live, and I couldn’t help Carlos. Only stopping Sergeyev would save anyone, but I’d made the wrong choice—under the weight of Alice’s geas and my own fear, my own weakness—and my friends would die for it.
Dead if you do and damned if you don’t. I wouldn’t survive if Sergeyev won, whether Alice took me out later or not. But if she needed to threaten me, then I must have a choice. And she’d have to find me—or my body—first. I started crawling forward, pushing against the pain in my chest. The house shook, bucking and roaring with a sound like a freight train bearing down.
A gut-tearing chill ripped into me and I rolled onto my back. The huge shape of the black guardian beast burst from the flame, vaulting upward, through the ceiling, trailing fire and smoke, then rushing back toward us, frenzied, roaring. Its maw gaped an infinite, lightless pit above me as I lay cold in motionless terror.
I pushed my hands uselessly against the pressure rushing before the monster and felt fire sear along my arms. “No, no, not me,” I gasped, “not now.” The knot in my chest burned and twisted like a blade as the jaws closed over me. I was too slow, too late, and I couldn’t help anyone now. I sobbed and let go, not caring what the monster did to me. Who cared if the Grey swallowed me whole?
I gave up struggling. I let it have me.
I felt the knot in my chest loosen, blooming open, pouring the writhing, living Grey through me, knitting it into my body and mind. I let it wash across me and I felt bright as the soft snow-mist that enclosed me.
Then the floor slapped my back and I looked up into a blaze of light, streaming and boiling around a black void. The guardian breathed out an odor of tombs and poised above me, confused. I pointed at Sergeyev.
The beast reared back, spinning and shrieking, and its tail of pure pain lashed across me. I gasped and sank toward the dark as screams erupted nearby.
The creature plunged toward Carlos and Sergeyev, forms of fire and