Child of Fire

“Don’t care, neither. Not anymore.”

“That’s because you’re stupid.” I took the ghost knife out and threw it through the door. It cut a slit in the wood and passed through. I heard Luke grunt. Something metallic fell onto the tiled floor. I reached for the ghost knife. It flew back to me, cutting a second slit through the wooden door and landing in my hand.

“What…” Luke’s voice was small and frightened. “What was that?” I knew the ghost knife had taken the fight out of him. Hopefully, it would give him pause, too.

“That was just the start. That was small magic for small potatoes like you. Where did you get this trick for shape-shifting, Luke? Straight from the Hammer family, I’ll bet. I’ll bet the first Cabot gave it to your grandfather, and he’s passed it down over the years. I’m right, aren’t I? Didn’t you ever wonder where he learned the trick?”

“He’s rich,” Luke said, as if that explained everything.

“Please. He got his magic from the same place I got mine. From the same book, in fact. But he only taught the Dubois family that one trick, right? He only gave you that one spell. And you didn’t even know enough about it to be sure the magic protected you. Not until Peter Lemly unloaded a round into one of you.”

I just kept talking, hoping to stall him. I didn’t know what to stall him for, but it was all I had.

“So what? What does that have to do with you?”

Cynthia came up to me and held out her hand. “This was all I could find,” she whispered. She had a delicate silver chain in her palm. I took it. I hoped it would do some good.

“Damn, Luke,” I said, “you fellas have been stumbling around in the dark for years. And now, when you finally realize what you have, you blow it by killing Karoly and Lemly, and now going after the mayor. You drew too much attention to yourselves. Now we’re here to take the magic back.”

“We’re just protecting our own interests,” he said, his voice almost complaining. “This is our territory.”

I waved at the two fat men while Luke kept talking. They approached me timidly. Rake-Thin Arms was about to ask a question, but I held my finger to my lips. I gestured for them to throw their weight against the door. They did.

I ran to the window. We were on the fourth floor-too damn high to jump. But there was a ledge. I took out my ghost knife and cut a large hole in the window, as large as I could make it. Then I turned to Cynthia and the doctor. “Out onto the ledge,” I whispered.

Cynthia didn’t hesitate. She stepped through the window and climbed out. The ledge was only six inches wide, and there was nothing but parking lot below, but she inched her way along.

The doctor followed her after a moment’s hesitation. Frank didn’t have the strength for that kind of climbing, and Miriam wasn’t going to leave him. Arlene wasn’t going to leave Miriam.

I went back to the door and shoved the fat guys aside. “Go,” I whispered. What ever Luke had been saying, he was done saying it. I laid my arms against the door and braced myself, for what ever that was worth. I looked over my shoulder.

The two fat guys rushed toward the window. Mustache looked out at the ledge, then turned back to me. I could see he wasn’t going to risk it. Rake-Thin shoved him aside.

“You have two choices, Luke,” I shouted through the door. “You can stay in Hammer Bay and be hunted like animals, or you can run for it. Rio is nice, I’m told. I’d think that would be a good place for a murderer to lie low.”

“No,” Luke said. I could hear courage in his voice. Damn. He was recovering from the ghost knife too quickly. “I don’t think so. I’ve been to Rio.”

The door seemed to explode right in front of me. Splinters of wood struck my face. I felt a dead pressure against the tattoos on my stomach. Gunshot.

I fell backward. Splinters fell around me in slow motion. I fell in slow motion, too. I knew a second gunshot was coming, but it seemed to take a long time.

Then it boomed. I hit the floor and rolled to the side. A third shot slammed past me. Then a fourth. Mustache dove for the ground. Rake-Thin Arms toppled through the window like a sack of flour and vanished. Miriam screamed as more shots blasted through the wood. At first I thought she was screaming over the death of the middle-aged fat guy, but then I noticed a single round bullet hole just above Frank’s right eye.

Arlene grabbed Miriam and dragged her to the floor. Mustache crawled toward me, holding the rifle.

Boom boom boom. The barrage seemed to be endless, although I’d guess there were no more than ten or twelve shots. When it ended, the door was Swiss cheese. I heard Luke eject a clip and replace it. He racked the slide.

I expected him to say something before he started shooting again, but he just jammed his pistol into one of the holes in the door and started shooting.

The barrel of the gun was only a couple of feet above me. I slashed at it with the ghost knife. The trigger fell free and landed with a ting on the floor outside.

Luke drew back the weapon and cursed. He kicked at the door and broke open a section with several bullet holes. His foot got stuck in the hole.

Mustache shot him through the ankle. Luke cursed violently as he yanked at his foot. Mustache and I saw the wound heal in seconds.

“Jesus wept,” Mustache said. “What do we do now?”

I had an idea. “Gimme.”

Mustache handed me the rifle. I took the silver chain from my pocket and cut it in half. Then I cut the halves as well. Might as well try it.

Luke pulled his foot free, and the black muzzle of a wolf jammed through the hole in the door. The wolf snarled