Page 105 of Of Fate and Phantoms
He placed a hand over her mouth, but I heard her muffled scream. The neighbors in their houses would not.
Beside me, Lincoln whistled and Gus and Seth emerged from their hiding spots. "Stay here," he ordered me, then jumped down from the tree.
The shifters halted and swung around. They sniffed the air. Some bared teeth in snarls.
"Go away," King snapped at Lincoln then walked off again, forcing Harriet along.
He must have loosened his grip enough for her to break free, however, because she tore away and screamed. In a flash, King caught her and lifted a hand to punch her.
Lincoln rushed at him and grabbed his fist. He wrenched it back, unbalancing King, tackling him to the ground. Lincoln delivered a punch to King's jaw before the other two men leapt onto Lincoln's back.
"Harriet,move!" Seth ordered as he ran up. He drew his pistol but Lincoln's attackers didn't stay still and he couldn't fire safely.
Lincoln threw one of them off him but the other landed a punch to his stomach. He grunted and coughed but swung his fist and hit his target's cheek.
Gus, too, had pulled out his pistol but couldn't fire. The fight was much too close, the risks too high. With a growl of frustration, he kicked one of Lincoln's attackers. But he too was soon overset by one of the females. In that instant, he could have shot her, but he did not—out of chivalry, knowing Gus. Then it was too late. She knocked the weapon out of his hand. It skidded away, out of reach.
I remained in the tree, waiting for the right moment. But what moment? What could I do? Even the women were too strong and fast for me. Gus could only shield his body from the blows of the one attacking him, and he only occasionally got in a punch or kick. Seth fared no better with the other woman, and with two men attacking him, Lincoln had fallen to the road. They kicked him in the ribs, stomach and legs. He curled in on himself, but they showed no mercy.
Tears filled my eyes, blurring my vision. My stomach knotted with revulsion and fear and hopelessness. I prayed to a God I hardly even believed in as tears rolled down my cheeks.
"You brought them here, didn't you?" King growled at Harriet. "You led them to me!"
Harriet had descended into hysteria, crying and whimpering on her knees. King hauled her to her feet and half-dragged her toward his house. She didn't resist. She couldn't.
The blows kept coming. Lincoln, Seth and Gus could hardly even defend themselves anymore. Seth tried to retrieve his gun, but his hand was kicked away. He cried out and cradled it to his chest.
"Kill them," King said over his shoulder to his pack. "Then dispose of their bodies. Do it quickly before the neighbors see."
Chapter 15
Ihadone weapon in my arsenal; the same weapon I'd had my entire life, only I'd not treated it as such until last summer—my necromancy. And with time against me, there was only one way in which to use it.
My gut protested at the what I must do, but I ignored its churning, ignored my conscience. I had to save my friends, no matter the cost.
I climbed down from the tree as silently as possible. It wasn't silent enough. One of the men attacking Lincoln looked up. His lips peeled back in a snarl and he prepared to spring at me.
I dove for Gus's gun at the same moment the man leapt at me. I rolled out of the way, as Lincoln had taught me in training, and the man landed on the road with a sickening thud and a yelp of surprise. In that blink of a moment, I rose on one bruised knee, steadied my aim, and fired.
The bullet hit him in the shoulder. He jerked back and cried out. His friends paused, looked up. They stood as one, and spread out to circle me. They would risk their lives to capture me, or perhaps they didn't think I would kill.
"Don't come any closer," I said, aiming at the injured man.
They did not stop. They stepped in, tightening the circle around me. The injured man joined them, his shoulder damp with blood. They snarled deep in their throats. I'd heard stray, hungry dogs snarl like that, right before attacking their prey.
I clutched the gun in both hands. It shook. "Get back!"
But instead of stopping or retreating, I heard a noise behind me. I swiveled in time to see one of the women leaping at me. I fired.
The bullet hit her square in the chest and she fell to the ground. She did not get up.
Oh God.
I lowered the weapon and stared at the body. Blood seeped out from under it and pooled on the road. A white mist rose and hovered in the air. It formed the shape of the dead woman, in human form, and wailed.
"You killed her," the other woman said, her eyes huge. "You killed Maggie."
"You attacked me," I said. "You attacked my friends."
