The heavy steps drew closer. She closed her eyes for a minute, gathering strength, then rose and stepped from the cover of the tree.
The dead stopped, surprise flitting across their decaying features. The mara was in the lead, her gown as flimsy as smoke and revealing more of the woman than Kat ever wanted to see. Obviously, it wasn’t only the child the soul-sucker hunted tonight.
“Sorry, folks,” Kat said, raising the stake, “but kid and soul are off the menu for tonight.”
The mara screamed—a sound that sliced through the night. Her form began to melt into air as the zombies crowded forward. Kat hit them with a wide beam of kinetic energy, thrusting them on their bony backsides as she ran at the soul-sucker.
Smoke condensed and began to slither away. Kat slashed it, and the soul-sucker screamed in pain. She raised the stake to strike again, but was hit from behind and thrust face-first into the ground.
She grunted, battling for breath and spitting out dirt as bony knees pressed into her back. The zombie chuckled, his breath washing dead things past her cheek. Bile rose. She swallowed heavily and hit him kinetically. Before she could rise, something else grabbed her and dragged her upright. Kinetic energy surged again, but a second before she released it she realized that the smell had changed, had become the scent of freshly cut wood combined with the tang of earthy spices. Ethan, not one of the zombies.
“Go,” he said, his face grim as he pushed her toward the house. “Stop the mara.”
She didn’t argue, just ran hell-bent for leather down the path toward the house. The dogs were barking furiously, and the owner was outside, gun in hand, yelling at the dogs to shut up.
She skirted the fence line and climbed into the yard on the opposite side of the house. The mara was at the window and beginning to seep inside. Kat lunged forward, slashing the smoke with the stake. The soul-sucker screamed, and blood as black as the night sprayed across the glass.
Out of the corner of her eye, Kat saw movement. She spun and raised the stake, then saw it was the dogs, not a zombie. She hit them kinetically, tossing them across the picket fence. It wouldn’t stop them long, but her only other option was hurting them, and she wasn’t about to do that.
The mara had seeped through the window. Kat swore and hit it kinetically, drawing the glass backward rather than pushing it forward and spraying the room. Inside, a child began screaming—a terror-filled sound that was quickly cut off.
Because the soul-sucker had her.
“Don’t you be moving, little lady.” The harsh warning was overridden by the sound of a rifle being cocked.
Kat swore again and hit the man kinetically, thrusting him onto his ass. The gun went off, the shot blasting the house dangerously close to her head. Wood splintered, tearing past her cheeks. She dove through the window, hit the carpet, and rolled to her feet in one smooth movement.
Neither the child nor the mara was in the bedroom, and the trail of evil led into the hall. A nightie-clad woman was hurrying toward the bedroom, but she froze, eyes widening in fear when she saw Kat.
Kat threw out her hands to show she held no weapons. “Did you see anyone run past here?”
The woman’s gaze flickered. In that instant, Kat realized someone was behind her. She spun, but it was too late.
Something smashed into her head, and the lights went out.
“THE LEAST YOU COULD DO IS GET ME A WET CLOTH TO clean her face with.” Ethan’s tone was brusque, and it seemed to be coming from a great distance.
“No one is doing anything until the sheriff gets here.” The second voice was harsh and low and filled with so much anger it quivered. But it was a voice Kat recognized. It was the homeowner who’d tried to shoot her. The father of the little girl the soul-sucker had taken.
She opened her eyes and blinked several times, trying to get her bearings. She was still lying on the floor, but she was no longer in the hall. Her head was cradled on muscular thighs, and warm fingers touched her cheek, gently caressing. There was so much pain in her head it felt like her brain was about to explode, and the same could be said for the air, which was sharp with anger and tension.
She tilted her head and met Ethan’s gaze. “You’re here.” She hadn’t expected him to be. She’d thought he’d be chasing the soul-sucker.
“I am.” There was concern in his voice, but the fury she could feel in the air was visible in his nut-brown eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit. What about the mara?”
“Gone with the kid.”
She struggled to rise. “We have to go after them—”
Ethan put a hand on her shoulder, but it was the sound of a rifle being loaded that made her freeze.
“We’re being held at gunpoint in the living room by the father and the oldest son,” he explained, voice clipped. “They called the sheriff.”
Her gaze met his again. “Have you told them you’re a cop?”
“Yeah,” he said dryly. “They aren’t buying it.”