Page 238 of The Seven Rings
“It poofed. Oh God, the stench. It went to smoke. It couldn’t have been a foot away from me. I went down. Legs gave way. Everything gave way. I heard you calling, but I couldn’t get air for a minute. Then everything stopped, and you were there. You were both there. And the dogs.”
She sighed, gave Sonya a squeeze, then eased back. “I really loved that crystal ball.”
“You said it went through the bird. Did it go out the window?”
She frowned at Trey. “I don’t know. I guess… yes.”
“I’ll go find it.”
“Oh, do you think… Thanks.”
“No problem. Sonya will fill you in on our part of it.”
“No damage,” Sonya began. “To either of us.”
Cleo listened, sipping tea while Clover hit it with Queen’s “Another One Bites the Dust.”
“You made fun of her. That was smart, and that was brave.”
“Trey started it. And he never flinched. It’s easier to be brave when you’re standing there with a man who just doesn’t flinch. Then we heard you scream. When we got to your room, he was going to break down the door. You know how thick those doors are? But I swear, I think he could’ve done it.”
She closed a hand over Cleo’s. “This cost her, and there’s only a couple of days before Halloween.”
“No need to bait her into doing all this again. And let’s give thanks there.”
Trey came back with a small cardboard box. “Got your ball. Looks like it bounced and rolled nearly to the seawall. Nice arm you got there. It’s got a lot of black ooze drying on it. I’d take that for a blood substitute.”
“You didn’t touch it?”
“Got it with my shirt.” He held it up, showing some streaks of black on the cotton.
“Okay, good.” Cleo nodded. “Toss the shirt in there, too. No washing, no cleaning. More potential use for our side.”
“It was a pretty nice shirt.” But he tossed it in the box. “Odds of her causing more trouble today are pretty slim. Owen’s going to check in later.”
“Owen.”
“I let him know. I’m going to go grab a shower. I can reschedule things if you want me to stick around.”
“No.” Sonya shook her head. “You’re right, and we thought the same. She’s done for now. We’re good. We’re good until one second after midnight October thirty-first.”
The closer it came, the more brutal the wait.
Work only held her concentration an hour or two at a time. And even then, she made mistakes she had to go back and fix.
She took aimless walks, in the house and out.
And played endless games of what-if.
What if she couldn’t pull it off? What if the mirror wouldn’t let her and Owen through seven times in three hours?
Two hours, fifty-nine minutes, and fifty-nine seconds, she corrected.
Because every second counted.
What if, oh God! What if it wouldn’t or couldn’t let thembackthrough every time?
Dobbs would continue her reign of blood and terror, and they’d be stuck in another century.
