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But she wasn’t trying to fight this time. She slammed him flat against the forest floor, appearing genuinely frightened. Kit didn’t know what was wrong with the woman, until he followed her line of sight upward and—

“What the devil?”

“At a guess,” the dhampir breathed as they both stared as a great, saw-toothed maw, worse than any shark’s, worse than anything the human brain was designed to understand, tore past overhead.

It was trailed by a bulbous body full of tentacles and pus and rot and was absolutely the most horrific thing Kit had ever witnessed. It also smelled to high heaven, the odor permeating his skin and seeming to leech into his very soul. He gagged, he swore, and then he noticed—

The creature was chasing half a hundred ghosts who looked absolutely terrified.

Kit was fairly terrified, too, but instead of pelting headlong into the brush, as he had the last time he’d seen anything like that, he found himself getting up. And waving his arms. And yelling his head off, trying to out-scream the storm and get the thing’s attention.

“Are you mad?” the dhampir yelled, and tried to drag him back down, but he wasn’t having it.

“I need . . . a distraction,” he told her, panting although he didn’t need to breathe. But terror, he discovered, worked in strange ways on the body, even dead ones.

For instance, the group of colorful ghosts continued fleeing in a mad scramble through the trees, but the creature following them paused and . . . rippled. And the next thing Kit knew, an attractive brunette with a frazzled looking bun was in his face, pushing her spectacles up to get a better look at him. And yet the tentacles she’d had for hair as the monster were still in place, giving her a scholarly sort of Medusa appearance and, yes, Kit thought.

He was quite mad.

That idea was cemented when the monster turned on his attacker, did a double take, and then spontaneously gave her a hug. “Dory! What are you doing down there?”

“What am I?” the dhampir seemed as astounded as Kit felt. “What are you? And what was that?”

“I told you I knew some tricks,” the creature said, and dimpled at her. “Anyway, we’ve been looking for you. Hilde will be so pleased!”

“Hilde is here?” the dhampir said, sitting up. “Where?”

“I don’t know; I lost her a while ago.” She waved a tentacle vaguely. “We were trying to find you, Hilde and Rhea and I, but all the magic flying about confused us—”

“Can you help us?” Kit asked, cutting her off.

“Help you?” the ghost looked confused.

“Yes! I need a distraction—”

She blinked at him behind her spectacles. “You . . . realize you’re talking to a ghost,” she said carefully.

“He’s been doing that a lot lately,” the dhampir said, making Kit wonder what she meant until he realized—she was probably thinking about Morgan.

“Yes,” the ghost agreed. “Everyone is so new here tonight, or so gorged with energy, that a number of people have been startled. You know, we usually have to expend power to be seen by the living, but tonight—”

“Can you help me?” Kit demanded again.

“I—what do you want me to do?”

“You were herding those ghosts—”

“They are human spirits; one doesn’t herd—”

“Can you do it again?”

She blinked some more. “I suppose so, if I can find them. I was simply trying to get them out of the way of the predators here tonight. So many have been drawn by the magic that they scarce have a chance to—”

“Can you do it again?” Kit yelled, startling her.

“I—when?”

“Now! Now! Right now!”