him his own damn life. He’ll show me a way—”
“Ty—”
“No, Ray, shut up! He’ll show me how to take it off and put it on when I want, and—”
“Ty, it’s not a goddamn jacket! It’s down in your lungs, isn’t it? It’s breathing for you, and it’s up your nose and in your head. And it’s strong, I know. It’s not going to let you put it on and take it off like a hat.”
“What can you offer that’s better, Ray? I wouldn’t even be in this mess if it wasn’t for you, and you want to take me somewhere quiet to die?”
My ghost knife was in my pocket, but if I used it, the drape on him would kill him, and who knows how many more would come through. Ty wouldn’t be happy to see me reaching into my pocket just then, either.
“You were wrong about one thing, Ray. Wally King
He turned into a silhouette, giving me a glimpse of the Empty Spaces, then he vanished.
I spun and tore the covers off the bed, throwing them at him. I didn’t have to bother; he wasn’t hiding from me, he was charging. The striped sheet flopped over Ty’s head just before he slammed me off my feet into the wall.
I was pinned, the wooden bedpost digging into my low ribs and kidney. Damn, he was strong. I felt his right hand release my shirt, saw the blanket flutter as it slid off him. I raised my left hand to protect my head.
His first punch glanced off my triceps and the top of my head. It probably hurt him as much as it hurt me. His second struck the part of my forearm protected by spells. That one didn’t hurt me at all.
His weight shifted and I twisted to the left. His third punch landed right on my solar plexus. He might have killed me with it if not for the spells there.
My feet were off the floor, and I didn’t have room to lift them onto the bed. Instead, I kicked low, hoping to hit Ty’s knee. I missed. I had no idea where he was. All I could see was Dale standing in the corner with a horrified expression.
I tucked my chin and protected my face as well as I could. Even though I couldn’t see him, I could feel him. He was still holding me with his left hand. I reached out with my right, trying to find his eyes, but he wrenched himself away and slammed me down on his bed.
I could hear his breathing, ragged and furious, but I looked straight through him at Dale. While he rained down punches on me, I curled my legs and kicked at him again. I needed to get him off balance. I needed leverage.
Ty switched his grip on my shirt so his knuckles would grind into my throat. I finally managed to get a good kick against his knee and made him stagger. He didn’t let me up, but the pressure eased, and I had a moment’s break from the beating I was taking on my ribs and my left arm.
His grip on my throat loosened. I caught his thumb in my right hand and started to peel it back. He wouldn’t let me break it, though. He ripped his hand away and backed off.
For a moment I was afraid he’d gotten smart. If he’d let go of me and hit me with a bit more distance, I’d never have been able to protect myself. I pushed my way off the bed toward him, determined to keep him close.
I hadn’t yet gotten all the way upright when a fat ceramic lamp floated off the bedside table and rushed at me. I swung at it with my protected forearm and shattered it. Broken bits of clay clattered against my face and chest, and the heavy base struck my lip painfully.
I felt something kick against my feet, and I was on my back again. Ty fumbled at my shirt, trying to get control of me and pin me again—he could turn invisible, but he couldn’t break his fighting habits. He had to stick with what he was comfortable with.
Shards of broken ceramic jabbed painfully into my back, and the twisted metal workings of the lamp lay across my chest. I grabbed it. The shade had come off, but the bulb had not broken. I felt Ty heave his weight on me, about to throw more punches, and I jabbed upward.
It wasn’t hard to guess where he was. The thin glass of the bulb shattered with a muffled
I heard Ty back away, cursing. The bulb was broken almost down to the socket, with a couple of nasty glass shards sticking out. I’d expected to see blood on them, but there was nothing, just a faint, slimy sheen. I tossed it aside and sat up off the bed. Ty didn’t come at me again.
He cursed again, and I oriented myself on the sound. The left side of my body below my arm was bruised, and I had several spots on my face and head that felt painful and inflamed. If he’d been planning to beat me to death, it would have taken him a long time, but he was capable of it.
Ty cursed again, and this time his voice had gone high with fear. Had I hit a vital spot like a throat or an eye? I couldn’t say I was sorry if I had, but I didn’t want to deal with the consequences of killing him here. I wasn’t ready to face four drapes, or to defend Dale from them.
Ty let out a wordless cry, then said: “It’s like a tongue!”
“What’s happening?” Dale cried.
“Ty!” I said. “Show yourself.”
He did. There was a tiny drop of blood on his shoulder. It didn’t look serious to me, but Ty shuddered and twitched back and forth. “Ah! Omigodomigodomigod …”
I moved toward him at the same time Dale did. There was still a delicate sliver of glass protruding from his skin. While I watched, it slowly backed out of the cut as though pulled by an invisible hand, then fell. I picked it up off the carpet. There wasn’t a drop of blood on it.
Dale grabbed Ty’s bare arm, then let go with a hiss. Ty grimaced and turned his face to the ceiling. The cut on his shoulder didn’t look serious. It barely seemed to be bleeding.
“Shit!” Ty gasped. “It’s digging in and squeezing—Ah, God!” He grimaced and staggered as though the right side of his body was paralyzed. “It’s milking the blood out of me!”
