Page 94

“He has the pills in his bag,” I interrupt as I cut Madison’s wrists free, but I’m watching Soren as he presses a hand to his rattling chest. Bentley’s fear is beginning to bleed through my anger, and my hands shake as I move over to cut Bentley’s ties. “They’re not doing anything.”

Oh, damn it, I should have taken him to Bristlebrook.

My stupid curse is going to kill my stupid ghost.

A tear slips from the corner of Soren’s eye as he bows his head, struggling, and I swallow down the guilty lump in my throat.

I killed my stupid ghost.

Madison pulls herself free of the tree, massaging her wrists as she glances quickly over at the Sinners. The battle booms and crashes, and the agonized screams make me feel like an idiot for being creeped out by the little wood whispers before.

Madison tears her eyes from them to crouch beside Soren.

“What do I do, Bent?” Madison snaps.

“I . . . CPR . . .” Bentley stammers, all his rolling calm gone.

Madison lowers Soren to the ground as his back suddenly arches. The hand pressing to his chest begins to claw at his neck, and tears storm my eyes. Angrily, I wipe at them.

Madison tilts Soren’s head back, starting CPR, and I look down at Bentley’s ropes, only they’re already more than half frayed through, and I frown.

“Bentley, your ropes?—”

“Hurry up,” Bentley begs. “Kasey. It’s little Kasey, isn’t it? Cut me free.”

I’m distracted by Soren’s clutching, curling hands for one more second before I quickly slice through the rest of Bentley’s ropes. He lunges forward, stroking Soren’s black hair off his forehead as Madison starts chest compressions.

Soren’s eyes are slitted as he looks at me—dark and sunken—and I begin to shake. It’s only now, in the reflected flames, that I can see how pretty they are.

I didn’t think ghosts were supposed to have eyes the color of rust and riverbeds.

I can’t do this.

I can’t do hospitals or sick people or standing here and doing nothing .

I don’t have enough dog years for this.

“There’s a side tunnel,” I burst out, then glance nervously over my shoulder at how loud it came out.

The Sinners are clustered together, shouting from the tree line.

“You can come. We can get him there. Beau and Deanna, they’ll have something, I know it.

We... we just need to get him there, right? ”

Bentley and Madison exchange a look, and she curses, looking over at the fight. Her hands work Soren’s chest, using so much force I have to stop myself from screaming at her to be careful.

“The explosives. Bent, they’re so close... Dom needs them,” she whispers urgently, and I realize she’s not just looking at the fight. She’s looking at a guy waving one of the torches.

There’s a pack at his feet.

Bentley’s shoulders are rising fast, and his hand is working frantically, soothingly over Soren’s head. But then he shakes his head.

“Take him, Madison. I’ll get the explosives.” More hesitant, he grimaces, then adds, “I’ll follow after?—”

“ Follow ?” She snorts, incredulous, and strands of red hair have escaped her ponytail. “Fuck off, Bentley. You’re either not going to be able to track us or you’ll put them on our ass. We need to go through . It has to be a run.”

She bends down to breathe for Soren.

Bentley’s face flares in stubborn anger. “You’ll get gunned down before you make it ten feet.”

Madison’s face flares too as she lifts up. “Weren’t you just trying to tell me how the bastard overlord needs me alive?”

“That doesn’t mean the rest of these assholes give a shit! Bane will plant one in the back of your head. It has to be me. I have a plan. Just let me?—”

Soren’s throat makes the most awful, pained sucking sound I’ve ever heard, and Bentley cuts off, staring down at him in a panic, and Madison curses.

My fingers curl in, watching Soren’s face the same way he’s watching mine.

“Take him, Bentley. You can take his weight. You can get him to help faster.” Madison’s voice is a whiplash before she lowers it. “He needs his uncle, Bent.”

Bentley stares at her hard, terror and concern writhing in his eyes.

“Fuck,” he grinds out, then he starts to stand, hauling Soren into his arms.

Madison stands too, and the distant sound of a long, dying gurgle makes me shudder.

“Forget the explosives,” Bentley tries one last time, pleading. “Just come with us. Get inside the house, we can?—”

“I still have a job to do. I’m not leaving before it’s done,” she claps back stubbornly, but her eyes flick to Soren. “Go, Bent. Now.”

Miserable, terrified resignation falls over his features—and he scans her face like it’s the last time he’s going to see it.

It puts another pit in my stomach.

Madison nods, smiling at him briefly, but I grab her before she can run.

“Here, take this.” I pull out my pistol and give it to her. Then my pocketknife. The spare ammo I brought, because I’m not pulling a Jayk and forgetting it at a key moment.

Finally, she looks down at me, and then Madison pulls me into a rough, quick hug.

“You did good, Kasey. You did really fucking good, no matter what happens, okay?” she says into my hair, and I hate her for it.

Because it means she’s going to die, too.

Then she pulls away, taking off, and I hear Soren dying over Bentley’s shoulder, and I start running.

As the first rain starts to fall, with tears blurring my eyes and Bentley on my heels, I take the most shrouded route I can.

And I run .