I heard the sound of heavy boots on the wooden stairs.
Climbing toward us was a man.
Jeans, black boots, motorcycle jacket, helmet under one arm. Scowling, but gorgeous.
“Sailor!” I exclaimed. “Did they drop the charges?”
Patience swore a blue streak as she grabbed my arm and pulled me up the stairs, away from Sailor.
“Lily, come on!”
“But what—? Sailor?” I said again, but he didn’t respond to me.
His eyes were cold, empty. A chill ran through me.
Chapter 16
It wasn’t Sailor. Not Sailor.
We ran up the stairs to get away from him.
Not Sailor paused on the landing, as though having trouble getting past the spirit. It gave us a few precious moments as a head start.
Up the next set of stairs, and then the next. At the top of the four-story building, the door to the roof was closed and locked.
“Dammit!” Patience said, slapping her hand against it. It wasn’t fancy, merely a simple door with a knob lock. “Where’s your Hand thingie?”
“I left it in the apartment.”
We heard the boots on the stairs again. Faster this time, coming closer.
Patience whipped a bobby pin out of her hair and jammed it into the doorknob. She opened it quickly.
We rushed through and slammed the door behind us, but had no way to lock it. A pile of dilapidated wooden crates gave me an idea.
“Grab a piece of wood,” I said, planting my feet on the roof and leaning against the door.
“What, those old things? They won’t hold the door.”
“Not a whole crate, just a piece of one to use as a shim.”
Patience ran over to one of the crates and stomped on it. The crate splintered, and she grabbed several of the smaller pieces.
“Jam them in the space beneath the door,” I said. “Like a doorstop.”
Patience shoved the small pieces of wood between the bottom of the door and the sill.
“That should slow him down,” I said. “But it won’t hold him long. I’m guessing that’s not actually Sailor.”
He started banging at the door.
“Of course not.” She shook her head. “Don’t you feel that?”
“What?”
“A pulsating energy . . . It’s kind of making me sick to my stomach.”
“I don’t feel a thing.”
“Lucky you. Anyway, how do we get off this damned roof?”
“We go there,” I said, pointing to the roof of the building next door. There was a three-foot gap between the buildings, which wouldn’t have seemed like much if we were on the ground. Four stories in the air, though, three feet seemed a lot farther.
“There?” she asked, as the pounding on the door increased.
“You got a better idea?”
We ran over to the side of the building. “Jump. You can do it. It’s only three feet,” I said to Patience.
“My seventh-grade gym teacher told me one day I’d be glad she made me do the broad jump. I really hate that she was right.”
“You’re stalling,” I said. “I’ll go first.”
I summoned up my courage and jumped as far as I could, clearing the gap by at least a foot.
“No sweat,” I said. “You can do this. Now come on, I’ll catch you.”
Patience hesitated another moment, then took a deep breath and jumped. I grabbed her as she landed, and we ran for the roof door.
Locked.
“Dammit!” Patience said, examining the knob. “This one’s beyond bobby pin technology. Now what? Eventually we’re going to run out of roofs to jump onto.”
“We have to go down,” I said, running along the side of the building and looking over the ledge. “There. A fire escape. See it?”
“Are you kidding me? That’s at least five feet down!”
“Go over feetfirst. By the time you let go of the ledge, you’ll be almost at the fire escape.”
“You say that like you know what you’re talking about,” Patience said. “Do you do this regularly?”
“Just go,” I urged her.
Patience sat on the ledge of the roof, rolled over on her stomach, and gradually lowered herself until she let go. A second later I heard a loud thud.
“Are you all right?” I said, peering over the side.
Patience was sprawled on the fire escape, glaring up at me. “I landed on my butt,” she said. “Ow.”
“But you looked graceful doing it,” I replied.
Patience snorted. “Your turn, Wonder Woman.”
I sat on the edge of the roof, rolled over onto my stomach, and slowly eased myself over. Props to Patience, I thought. It took a lot more courage to do this than I had realized.
“Let go,” Patience called out. I took a breath, released my grip, and landed lightly on my feet on the fire escape, thanks to Patience’s steadying hand.
“When this is all over, you’re buying me a drink,” Patience said. “Probably more than one.”
“Deal,” I replied.
“Now what?” Patience asked.
“Go inside, I think.” A large window faced the fire escape. We tried raising the window, but it was locked.
“Next time bring the damned Hand with you, will you?” Patience said while knocking loudly on the window.
“It’s not like you gave me time to gather my things.”
“Graft it onto your body or something.”
I glanced up at the roof and saw Not Sailor peering over the ledge. “I’ll get right on that, assuming we live.”
A very confused-looking man approached the window and threw it open. “Can I help you?” he asked.
“We’re on a scavenger hunt,” Patience said, climbing through the window and into the man’s apartment. “It’s for charity. You don’t mind, do you? Thanks. You, uh, might want to lock up behind us.”
I followed Patience through the window, across the apartment to the door, and into the hallway.
As we careened down several flights of stairs, I realized that I had left not only the Hand of Glory in Sailor’s apartment but also my backpack. With my keys.
Finally making it back out onto the street, we paused to take a breath.
“Now what?” Patience asked, holding the apartment building’s door open for a young woman to enter. I heard the thundering sound of Not Sailor’s boots flying down the stairs.
“Run!”
We hurried down the street, our progress slowed by the usual
