The bird call came. The one I wanted to hear, telling me Ricky was closing in. I headed that way, taking it slow, listening for the sound of his attack. He would attack if he had a clear shot. That's what we'd agreed. I might prefer to be within sight when he went after her, but the baby came first.
As I moved, I had my knife in hand. I hadn't lied to Gabriel--I didn't dare bring a switchblade across the border. But one of the first things we'd done was find small folding knives. Our lives were too dangerous to be unarmed, and our powers sadly weren't the kinds that help in a fight. In my case, I'm liable to plunge into a vision mid-fight.
I didn't hear Ricky or the gwragedd. I kept going and then--
I saw him. Ricky. Creeping through the trees . . . in the other direction.
That's the problem with the bird-call alert system. Works great in movies. In real life? I'd had three seconds to process that it was Ricky and not an actual bird plus that it wasn't the danger call plus pinpoint his location. Clearly, I'd screwed up figuring out directionality.
Worse, I was behind him. Far behind, and if I ran, the noise would warn the gwragedd.
Take it slow then. Loop around if I could. Plan my trajectory so if she heard me, she wouldn't look in his direction.
I could see him ahead, moving through shadow. The midday sun had disappeared into cloud, and I had to follow Ricky by tracking his blond hair. His actual movements made no sound.
When he disappeared behind a stand of trees, I strained to spot him. Another glimpse of blond hair . . . about twenty feet back from where I expected to see him. Had he turned around? I squinted. I could see his hair, and it looked as if he was bent over, his head down. He passed a tree and--
>
And that was not Ricky. It was the gwragedd. Behind him. Following him.
I resisted the urge to shout a warning. Instead I fell back, circling to get in behind her. Follow her. Now, if I could let Ricky know what I was doing . . .
I checked my phone in case I suddenly had service. Of course I didn't. That was the point of the checkins and the bird calls.
I had a bird call of my own to let him know I was in trouble. But I wasn't, and he wasn't either. Not yet.
I managed to circle wide enough to come up behind the gwragedd unseen. Or that was my plan, but by the time I got there, she was far ahead, closing in on Ricky. I caught a flash of her arm and saw she wasn't using her glamour. Her claws were out, quite literally, and she was moving fast as he crept, oblivious, through the forest.
I put my hands to my mouth and let out my call. Then I ran, crashing through the bushes, letting her hear me. Letting them both hear me.
Except Ricky didn't hear. Not the piercing bird call or me crashing through the forest. He kept creeping forward, and the gwragedd kept following him.
Had he mistaken my call for an actual bird?
I tried again, louder. But he didn't even slow. The gwragedd broke into a jog, hunched over, claws out, running straight for him.
"Ricky!"
He didn't react. Neither did she. I charged for the gwragedd. Soon she was within attack distance. And so was I.
One final spurt of speed, and I leaped and . . .
I fell through the gwragedd. I saw her there, saw my hands extended to grab her, and I went straight through her, the shock of that making me trip.
I hit the ground on my knees, hands thumping down hard. As I crouched there, wincing, I realized that the gwragedd had stopped her own charge. She stood behind me now . . . and yet still didn't see me.
Because I wasn't there. I was caught in a vision. Ricky and the gwragedd couldn't hear me, couldn't see me, couldn't feel me.
Just a few minutes ago, I'd been mentally joking that my powers were more likely to throw me into a vision when I needed to defend myself. Worse? Throw me into one when I needed to defend Ricky.
I squeezed my hands shut as I rose. I'd skinned my palms, and they stung like hell, the dirt not making it any better--
I'd skinned my hands. If I was in a vision, I shouldn't be able to do that.
I looked back at the gwragedd. She'd retreated into the forest, her gaze still fixed on Ricky as he continued--
Ricky glanced over his shoulder and . . . Uh, yeah, that wasn't my boyfriend. The man was about Ricky's size and wore a black leather jacket. He had similar blond hair, but his was longer, and his face very obviously wasn't Ricky's. Yet something about the way he held himself, the way he gazed about the forest . . .