Page 88 of Slaying With Sylphs

“Don’t do it,” I hiss, taking another step forward.

Leighton’s smile goes cruel, distorting his once-handsome features. He lifts his hand and crooks a finger, indicating I should follow. Then he strides toward the back of the shop and disappears through the wall.

I dash after him, Malik at my back shouting for me to stop.

But I can’t, because Leighton’s going to hurt someone. I feel it in my bones.

Malik’s hand grips my shoulder, and he spins me in place, an urgent expression on his face. “What are you doing, Lou?”

“It’s Leighton,” I bark, yanking out of his hold. “He’s going to hurt someone. I have to stop him!”

“You don’t know how!” Malik shouts as I sprint for the back door and bash my way through it. When I emerge behind the building, Leighton stands at the corner, waiting.

I stomp up to him and look way up into his face. He was tall and built in real life. He’s just as tall and built in revenant form. Glaring up at him, I point a finger.

“I don’t know why you’re doing this, but I need you to stop. I’ll find a way to release you, but give me time. Don’t hurt anyone!” It’s a plea more than anything, despite the steel in my voice.

Malik rushes out the door behind me and stares around, but it’s obvious he can’t see Leighton.

Leighton glances at him again, then back at me, and the smile falls. He turns and strides up the alleyway toward Sycamore Street. When I go to jog after him, Malik stops me.

“Stop, Lou,” he shouts. “We need help for this. You can’t tackle Leighton on your own!”

“Let go!” I yank out of his hold a second time and dash up the street to find Leighton. He’s there at the corner, waiting for me. Heat and ice sizzle through me in equal measures. Even my skin feels alive with energy. I can’t allow him to hurt someone. Malik’s right. I don’t know how to fix this, and I’ll do everything in my power to find a way, but I can’t stand by while Leighton stalks into the darkness and hurts another monster.

Not on my watch.

I follow him, Malik a silent, upset presence at my back. But he doesn’t stop me.

Leighton heads up the street and disappears into the alley that leads to Richard and Lola’s treehouse. All the heat in my skin turns to rock-hard ice as he looks at me, then vanishes into the staircase.

Dirk and Connall are upstairs with the rest of haven leadership, discussing how to find someone who knows the right kind of blue magic to dispel Leighton’s energy.

I move without rational thought, flying up the stairs and shoving my way through the door. Every head jerks up toface me. My mates. Richard. Arkan. Alo. Shepherd. Ohken. Catherine. Even the former Keeper, Abemet. They’re all here.

“Lou?” Connall stands, a confused expression on his face.

Leighton floats across the room as I watch in horror.

“No…” My command is barely above a whisper as Leighton stops next to Connall. He eyes my mate up and down. Then he glances over his shoulder at me, and that awful smile returns.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CONNALL

Leighton’s here; he must be. Or Lou thinks he is. She wouldn’t barge into a meeting like this, looking harried and smelling like a mix of fear and anger. Her fists are balled, body vibrating with tension. My wolf sits up and growls, immediately alert for whatever’s got her beautiful eyes open so wide.

The air smells of dread as haven leadership rises and looks around. But we’re helpless against Leighton, if the wraiths are to be believed.

But then Lou launches herself across the room, screaming as she rushes an enemy I can’t see. I reach for her, but she jumps into thin air and hangs there, like she’s clinging onto someone’s neck, but there’s no visible body. A blast propels her backward, and she lands on top of Richard’s dining table.

We all look around but there’s nothing, there’s no one. But she attackedsomething.

She leaps upright, standing on the table as she stares at something to my right.

“No,” she snarls so viciously it raises my hackles, and my wolf shoves forward, desperate to protect her. Blue appears in the depths of Lou’s eyes, spiraling outward until they glowotherworldly bright. She lifts her hands, and in both palms, pale blue flames flicker and sputter.

“Lou,” I gasp, reaching for her. But when I touch her, she’s an immovable rock, like she suddenly weighs a thousand pounds. “Dirk, help me,” I bark.

---