hell of a headache or concussion when she woke up-which wasn’t something I could allow to happen any time soon.
I left her lying there on the garage floor and stepped back into the kitchen. I opened a few cupboards and found what I’d hoped I would: the household’s stash of medicine. Tylenol, multivitamins, et cetera. Behind them were a couple of prescription bottles. One I didn’t recognize, but I thought it was some sort of heart medication. The other was Ambien, and I smiled. Just like me, a lot of shamans were insomniacs.
I popped a pill out of the bottle, reconsidered, and grabbed a second. I then propped up Abigail and managed to shove the pills down her throat, with the help of a glass of water and some acrobatics with my fingers. “Payback’s a bitch,” I said when her reflexes kicked in and she swallowed the pills the rest of the way. She wouldn’t be waking up any time soon.
I stepped back into the kitchen and saw all three gentry girls standing there and staring at me. Cariena and Raina looked afraid. Markelle, though she bore a red slap mark on her face from the confrontation earlier with Abigail, looked excited and defiant. I ordered them to carry Abigail downstairs and lock her in one of the rooms. I didn’t know which way Art would enter the house and couldn’t risk him finding her on the garage floor. Of course, if he did come in through the garage, the shattered glass was going to be a dead giveaway that something was up.
Before they took Abigail away, I frisked her, hoping to find another weapon. Nope. Just the athame I’d already taken. I did, however, discover something nearly as useful: a set of keys. On the ring were several tiny keys, the ones that opened up the iron cuffs and bracelets the girls wore. Once they’d stashed Abigail away, I removed all the iron. Relief flooded the girls’ faces, and I scowled when I saw the welts and bruises left from where iron reacted with gentry skin.
“You should have your magic back,” I said, reaching for the phone. “We can use it when we get out of here. What can you guys do?”
I was dialing Roland’s cell phone, and the girls described their magic to me as the line rang. Cariena had a knack for helping plants grow, kind of like Shaya. Raina had some healing ability. Markelle could summon beams and balls of light. I disconnected when I got Roland’s voice mail and promptly dialed Kiyo.
“Son of a bitch,” I muttered. None of the girls’ powers were going to help us. And honestly? It wasn’t a surprise. If I were Leith and had wanted to catch girls who would make docile servants, I too would have picked ones with little or no offensive magic.
Kiyo’s phone rang only once before going to voice mail, meaning it was off or he was in the Otherworld. I hung up and prepared to dial my parents’ home number. If Roland hadn’t answered his cell, he likely wasn’t home either, but I had to try. Before I could punch in the numbers, I heard the sound of keys at the front door on the far side of the house. I turned to the girls.
“Downstairs!” I hissed. “Now!”
Markelle looked like she would have stayed, but a stern glance from me sent her scurrying down with the others. Meanwhile, Art’s voice rang through the house.
“Abigail?”
I’m not sure how he knew something was wrong. For all he knew, Abigail could have just been downstairs. Maybe it was just some sixth sense, but I heard him hurrying down the hall toward the kitchen, footsteps fast on the hardwood floor. I had a split second to react, no chance to find a hiding spot as I had with Abigail. Surprise was my greatest weapon now. As soon as he entered the room, I leapt on him with the athame.
The thing that gave me a fighting chance was that he’d armed himself too well in his wariness, a gun in one hand and an athame of his own in the other. Full hands prevented him from fully deflecting my attack, though in many ways, the strength of his arms were more than good enough to block the worst of it. I got a swipe in on his face, however, gaining a fair amount of satisfaction in seeing the blood it produced.
“You bitch,” he said, circling with me in the kitchen as we each sized each other up for an attack. “Where’s Abigail?”
“Taking a nap,” I said. I gave him a wicked smile, hoping I sounded stronger than I felt. With that one shove alone, I’d been painfully reminded that I was not in peak condition quite yet. I couldn’t let him know how weak I was. “Don’t worry. You can join her.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have let him keep you here,” Art growled. “I should have made him drag you back by your hair to your own fucking world like a caveman. But he was too afraid they’d find you.”
“It’s too late. They know I’m here already. See the phone? I got a call in just before you arrived.”
A lie, but an effective one as it turned out. Art’s eyes flicked to the portable phone lying on the kitchen floor. It had come open when I dropped it, and the battery lay nearby. With that slight distraction, I tried again, lunging toward him. I got a kick in-not as strong as one of my usual ones, particularly since I was still in that fucking gentry dress-but enough to throw him off-balance. He was still stronger and faster, though. He’d dropped the athame earlier and grabbed me with that free hand, wrenching my arm painfully to get me to drop my athame. In his other hand, he held the gun but seemed hesitant to use it.
At last, his hand was too strong, and my fingers unclenched, releasing the blade and leaving me defenseless. Triumphant, Art slammed me back against the cupboard and tried to turn me around, probably to bind my hands. I’d noticed a glitter near his pocket earlier and suspected he had handcuffs on him. I fought him the whole time, refusing to turn around, and with only one hand free, he had a bit of difficulty in maneuvering me.
“Stop struggling, or I’ll blow your head off,” he yelled. “No one’s coming, and you know it. Play nice, or there’s nothing that Leith can offer me to keep you alive.”
“I doubt that. Your whoring operation seems to bring in a lot of money. Are you going to give that up so easily?”
“There are other ways to get gentry girls,” he grunted, still trying to shove me around and subdue me. The unfortunate thing was, he was getting closer. My strength was rapidly fading. “Other people will make deals. I don’t need Leith or his half-breed whore to-ah!”
I saw the chair before I saw Markelle. It was the one I’d used to climb through the garage door. Abigail had shoved it aside when she went outside, and now Markelle had snuck up and clobbered Art with it from behind. It was hardly a blow to render him unconscious, but it caused him to release me and stagger back. Markelle immediately scrambled away, but Art’s attention wasn’t on her. His eyes were back on me. Weak or not, I knew I had to use that opening to take him down. I surged forward again, fists ready and-
He shot me.
So help me, that bastard shot me. The bullet took me in the right shoulder, and I flew back against the cupboards, sinking down to the floor as my left hand instinctively flew to the wound to stop the blood. Art walked swiftly toward me, gun pointed down. “The next one goes through your heart,” he said. “Now turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
“I’m kind of fucking bleeding here,” I snapped back. My shoulder was on fire, and I couldn’t even really move my arm. “How much more incapacitated could I get?”
His smile was bitter. “Eugenie, you won’t be incapacitated enough until you’re dead.”
I saw Markelle come up behind him again. Her chair was gone, but her fists were out as she pounded him on the back, desperately trying to get him away from me. It was noble and tugged at my heart, but I wanted to yell at her to get the hell out of here. She was no more than a mosquito to him. With ease, he turned around and backhanded her, and I swear, she hit the floor harder than I had when I was shot.
In those fleeting seconds, I snaked one of my feet out as hard as I could manage and hit Art in the shin. He stumbled, leg buckling, but didn’t fall. The gun, however, did fall from his hands. It hit the floor with a clatter and slid far out of my reach-but not out of Cariena’s. She’d apparently been standing on the far side of the kitchen this entire time. When the gun slid up to her, the timid girl didn’t hesitate. She picked it up-screaming as her fingers made contact with the metal and polymers-and slid it back across the floor to me.
I grabbed it. All the while, Art’s eyes had been following the gun’s journey, so when it came to my hand, he was facing me. I had the gun aimed in a flash, and while I wasn’t a great shot with my left hand, I wasn’t horrible either. No hesitation: I fired. The bullet bit into his chest, and he fell backward, blood immediately pouring from the wound. I’d hit the mark.
Markelle and Cariena ran up to me, Raina following moments later. “Are you all right?” exclaimed Markelle.
