Daelin stared at the crystal knife in her hand. Copper coils wound around the handle, forming a trigger. A trigger on a knife. She would press it once to power the weapon then press it again when plunging it into Hawley’s neck. Her. “Right.”
“Put it away until you need it.” Earl lounged in the middle of the street in front of the Sparrow Roadhouse. He lay on his back with his hands behind his head, staring up at the sky.
Daelin crouched in the shadows of the dry cleaners with Culver. “I’ve never killed anyone before.”
“It’s a ghost.” Culver adjusted the strange watch on his wrist. “It’s already dead. So, you’re not killing it, you’re returning it to where it belongs.”
She scratched at an itch on the end of her nose. “Which is where?”
“Sabina gave you the book. It’ll open when she commands then you’ll have your answers.” He stared straight down the road as if Daelin didn’t kneel beside him.
The book would open on Sabina’s orders. The answers would mysteriously appear. The ghost was no ghost. The list of bizarre grew endless. Daelin glared at Earl. Earlier he told her the phantom wasn’t exactly a phantom, that another creature controlled it. He couldn’t say what kind of creature.
Of course not. No one said a whole lot about anything in this town. How could a ghost be possessed? Didn’t they usually do the possessing? “I went insane after the robber shot at me. That’s it.” She ran her fingertip over the blade. The honed edge sliced her skin, biting with a tang of heat, welling up droplets of blood. Daelin stuck her finger in her mouth.
Culver took the knife. “When Haw shot shows, I’ll give it back.”
She grabbed at his wrist. The device strapped to it burst with soft flares of gold and aqua, pulsing in time with the tattooed circuitry covering his arm. She marveled at its gentle violet flickers. “What’s all this?”
“Later.”
Of course.
The rest of the protectors hid up and down Brucker Avenue. Periodically, they flashed signals Culver could interpret. So far, all was quiet. Francine and Tiny squatted in the shadows of the general store. Moses plastered himself like a shadow against the cars at the dealership. Wald concealed himself on the porch of The Sparrow Roadhouse across the street. Vance crouched in the blackened window of an empty storefront ready to pounce. Their ineffectiveness against the ghost last night didn’t make their presence comforting. Tumbleweeds could do as much for Daelin.
A coyote howled, piercing the stillness of nightfall, adding to the expectation. Mayhem would come. Pandemonium sparked in a green flash over the manhole cover in front of the mercantile down the avenue. Like a bizarre weed, Haw Shot sprung up from the depths.
Daelin’s breath caught. She reached for the knife. Culver gave it to her.
“When the opportunity arises,” he whispered, “don’t hesitate. You can’t. You might only get one chance.”
“No pressure.” In all the dictionaries, he had some nerve. Daelin scowled at the phantom.
Like a runaway freight train, Hawley barreled at Earl, pouncing on him, lifting him by his hair into the air. “I hate you, Bart.”
Who was Bart? The faint breeze dried Daelin’s lips. She gripped the knife tighter.
Earl struggled, kicking his feet, swinging his fists futilely. “This ends tonight, Hawley.”
“Haw, haw. If that’s the way you want it.” Haw Shot slipped its hands into Earl’s, swinging him around. “Let’s go into the Roadhouse and get us some heads. I need a replacement for Susan’s.” Greg’s bounced sickeningly with Hawley’s every twitch.
The ghost pivoted, showing its back to Daelin. She couldn’t swallow. Culver nudged her then pushed harder. Daelin stumbled into the street. Oh boy. Did she dare? She raised the knife. Two inches from Hawley’s neck, she stepped on a pebble. The soft crunch blared like twenty-seven car horns.
Haw Shot whirled, raising Earl into the air, pitching him straight at her. Earl hit with the force of a boulder, knocking her off her feet. The palms of her hands skidded on the pavement, scraping raw. The knife skittered to the curb.
The Rifters jumped from the shadows. Haw Shot glided as fast as a blink to the forest ranger, Moses, snatching him off his feet, firing him as a weapon at Daelin. Tall and dark, the man felt like a wall when he slammed into her. The tape recorder device he held clattered to the street, shattering into pieces. Purple and green flashes fizzed around it, then it lay still.
Hawley went after the blond firefighter, Vance. Bulky as a doorway, the firefighter’s size didn’t slow the ghost down. Haw Shot lifted him as if made of paper and hurled him through the window of the fire station.
Culver dove for the knife, tossing it to Daelin. She missed, reeling to run after it. Screams and curses tore through the night air. Another body landed on top of Daelin. Trinidad. Tiny as she was, hurt as much as Earl and the ranger. Daelin groaned.
“¡Perdón!” Tiny’s aviator goggles glowed with a purple sheen. “The knife.”
Daelin scrambled on all fours, focusing on the weapon and nothing else. It helped her keep a toehold on sanity.
Trinidad kept pace beside her. “Just another foot, señorita.”
A gust of wind blew Daelin backwards, only it wasn’t wind. The phantom stood in her path, howling. It held a struggling Wald, slamming him down in front of her, not letting him up, not letting her pass, moving Wald to block her anyway she turned.
“You must weaken the ghost,” Trinidad whispered in her ear. “Attack Greg’s head.”
Ugh. The skin sloughed, shifting. The ghost’s green glow didn’t hide Greg’s unhealthy gray complexion. Why couldn’t she kick Hawley in the crotch? It’d be less disgusting. “For Charming.” No other reason could convince Daelin to do this. Swallowing the rising bile, she leaped onto her feet, springing at Haw Shot, her hands outstretched. She flew into Wald with a thud, cracking her forehead against his. Splotches of light sparked in her eyes. She gasped. Wald clutched at her, pushing her over him.
Right. Only one chance. She couldn’t give up. With her nails she slashed at Greg’s head.
Blood ran in a torrent from Earl’s nose. He hobbled behind the ghost, reaching for the knife. Haw Shot cuffed him, driving Earl’s chin up into his skull. Earl fell. He fell on the knife, groping for a grip. Finding the handle, he picked it up and slid it across the pavement.
Daelin bent to catch it. Hawley kicked Earl at her. She ducked, but he slammed into her shoulder. Her fingers opened of their own accord, dropping the blade.
Earl panted, rolling to get beside her. “Use my back to get over Wald. Sink the blade into Hawley’s throat.” He struggled onto all fours.
Haw Shot had Wald’s hands wrapped around Wald’s throat. His complexion shifted to an unnatural shade. If she hesitated, he wouldn’t get another breath. She seized the blade and jumped onto Earl’s back, pressing the knife’s trigger. Launching herself over Wald at the phantom, Daelin squeezed the trigger again, sinking the blade into Hawley’s throat. She clung to its shoulders, digging at the glowing gem in its throat. The crystal jiggled then popped. She dove for it, catching it before it hit the pavement, slamming into the curb face first. The pain flashed so brilliantly.
The world went green, completely green. The color radiated from thick mist, billowing, swirling. A pair of feet materialized in it then a pair of legs.
An instant later, Charming stood before her. “We don’t have much time.” Despite the green tint, the vibrancy of her strawberry-hued hair leaked through at the edges. Straight and shoulder length, her hair framed an oval face, the only traits besides a similarly shaped nose she shared with Daelin.
Daelin struggled to sit up, reaching for Charming’s bruised cheek, brushing against cool mist. “Oh, it’s wonderful to see you. It is you? I saw the blood in the clearing. Look at all the blood on me. Are we dead?”
Serious Charming smiled so sadly. “No, we’re not dead.”
How could that be bad news? Daelin didn’t know if she could handle all green all the time if this was the Afterlife.
“Then what is this place? I imagined catching up on your chaise in the cottage, giggling. That’s why I came to Settler.”
Charming had thinner lips and brows, everything a daintier version when compared to Daelin. “I can’t be in Settler right now. I’m sorry. The crystal you dislodged from the ghost brought you here.” Her fingernails had been torn ragged. Patches on her arms were dark as shadow.
“Did Haw Shot hurt you?” Daelin gently reached for her sister’s arm, touching mist and light, like Earl couldn’t touch the phantom. Earl. “Your friends claim the ghost was possessed. You? Were you trapped inside it?”
“No. Cerin granted me some time to contact you. I’ve been waiting for an opportunity.” Opening her palm, she revealed a crystal as glowing as Daelin’s. “We’re between worlds. The jewel in your hand brought you here. When we let go, we leave.”
Gripping hers more tightly, Daelin inhaled sharply. “People say you’re in love with Cerin. Earl says it’s a sham.”
“Trust Earl. Always.” An edge that had never previously existed narrowed Charming’s eyes and stiffened her jaw. “But know this, his promises to me come first.”
“He says you’re family.” Not by Daelin’s definition of family. Earl wasn’t part of the memories of her sensitive little sister, their mischievous brother, and herself hanging out on buses and in bars, stealing maraschino cherries and sugar cubes, playing hide and seek, shrieking with laughter. Earl hadn’t been there.
“He keeps me safe, Dae. He’s a good man.”
The effect Earl had over Charming showed, especially in the gaze. Oh. They had the same eyes. It didn’t matter. He was a stranger. Daelin had to remind her sister. “He’s not from our world. Culver told me.”
“He’s very much from our world just a different time. That’s all I can say without breaking my word. I can’t risk him doing the same to me. There’s too much at stake.”
More cryptic answers. Daelin wanted to shake her, expecting better from her sister. “Tell me what’s going on. What’s hunting you?”
“In time, but not yet. For now, trust me. Trust Earl. Trust Dante. All else must remain a secret.” She didn’t blink or stutter, so certain about it all.
“You’ve dragged me into secrets within mysteries.” It didn’t matter. Daelin knew Charming wouldn’t ask for help without a good reason. Charming knew Daelin would never say no without a good reason. “Tell me you’re all right.” If Daelin knew that, she could promise a moon castle carved from green cheese.
“I am, and I’m counting on you. Before you sign the journal Sabina left you, you must see Dante. Have you met him?” Charming’s gaze bore strong into Daelin’s, her demeanor growing more serious.
Daelin sat up straighter. “I did. He made me forget—”
“You have to forget again. Or you can’t help me. I so desperately need you.” Her voice cracked. She drew in a deep breath. “Will you go to him?”
“I’ll stand by you no matter what. No matter murderous ghosts and crazy neighbors. You know this is all a little crazy?”
Her head fell back, and Charming laughed until she hiccupped, like when they had drawn pictures on their mother’s arms when she refused to get up in the morning. “You’ve always had a way with words. A little?”
A smile stole over Daelin. She couldn’t stop it. “OK, a lot crazy. I wish I could hug you. We’ve been apart too long. Can I use this jewel to visit you again?”
“First, use it to get to Dante. Earl can help. Then give the gem up, give it to Earl. It’s the only way to protect him from the rift. It’s hunting him.”
Earl again. “Who is he? A half brother?”
Charming’s misty fingers breezed past Daelin’s temple, a chilled kiss. “That’s his secret to reveal not mine.” The sound of rustling leaves gusted through the fog. Her gaze darted behind her. “I have to go.”
The mist thinned. Charming vanished with it. Alone again. Daelin felt emptier than on the worst day of her life. She only had one sister, a sister who chased after… Daelin had no idea after what.
The faint imprint of Settler showed behind the green light. As if time had stopped, Earl and Wald lay on the street, mouths outstretched with hurt. Culver lunged toward the curb Daelin had smashed into.
She crawled into the library to grab paper and pen. She scribbled a note, made her way to Earl, and stuffed it in her pocket. Be at the closet in the morning. We have to go see the wizard. “I wish you didn’t have to go,” she whispered, planting a soft kiss on his battered cheek. For his devotion to Charming, he deserved Daelin’s loyalty.
She placed the gem in his hand and let go. The green light disappeared and so did Earl. The town swirled, her thoughts swam, the throbbing in her head whirled.
Culver scurried over, brushing hair out of her bruised and bloodied face. “Be still.” He rolled up his jacket, sliding it under her head. “Tiny, toss me the first aid kit.”
He and his cousin fought rift creatures all the time, accepting the strange as normal. Would Daelin become like them? She thought she had seen it all in New York. Not by a fat novel.
hapter 