Dammit!

Chain-link fences and I don’t mix. The last time I went over one was at the abandoned putt-putt course outside of La Sirena with Lon. I nearly cleaved myself in two in the worst possible way. But I’d be damned before I let this little ratfink get away from me. Mentally girding my loins, I climbed the fence as best I could. Rust bit into my fingers as I groaned and swung a leg over the top. It felt all wrong. In trying to keep the prized parts between my legs safe, I overshot and tumbled over the fence. The air whooshed out of my lungs when my shoulder hit the dirt.

I ignored the pain and scrambled to my feet.

The kid’s red cap danced in the distance. I bounded between two parked cars and skirted a sign identifying the color-coded parking area. He was two rows away from me. A car backed up in front of him, causing him to skid. Maybe it was just the break I needed. For a moment, I had a vision of how crazy I must’ve looked, chasing after a skinny little boy like he was the devil. But what did I care? They’d all do the same thing if they knew what he’d done to me and Kar Yee.

Zigzagging through unevenly parked cars, I halved the distance between us while he sidestepped the moving car. He glanced back at me, looking like a frightened rabbit. I wanted to shout something cool and intimidating, like “you’re dead!” but frankly, I was huffing and puffing too hard to spit out the words.

Maybe I should have tried.

To my surprise, the boy pitched to the side, then leapt onto the hood of a parked leopard-spotted van and sprinted over the top of it, jumping off to land in a cloud of dust in the next row. Showoff. But a few seconds later I saw why: the cars were parked too close together here. I mentally grumbled and followed suit.

The leopard-print hood creaked with my weight. Just as I leapt to the roof, I heard a loud grunt from the boy. An oh-too-familiar noise followed: the buzz and pop of electric current being overloaded. Multiple explosions cracked through the parking lot before everything went dark. White sparks showered the air above me . . . in front of me . . . they fell from every light pole in the parking lot. Glass tinkled across the tops of cars. A few random shouts echoed around the lot. The lights inside the racetrack were still on. Must’ve been wired separately. At least I knew the kid’s knack had some limits.

As I teetered on top of the van, I caught sight of his red cap. He was picking his way around a damaged light pole. No night vision goggles. He was hindered like I was. Glass crunched under my feet as I jumped to the ground. I dashed across the dirt lot, weaving through parked cars until I saw the boy skid to a stop in front of a car. He bent low, struggling with keys.

My lungs burned as I picked up speed, trying to catch him. He got the door open. I wasn’t going to make it.

No way in hell was I letting him get away again.

I stopped short in the middle of the aisle and called up the Moonchild power. The grays and blues of the parking lot shadows turned black as my pinpoint of blue light appeared . . . and along with it, those same strange whispers I’d heard before. No discernible language or voice. It struck fear in me, but at least it didn’t catch me off-guard like it had when I tried to use the power during the robbery. I ignored the whispering and focused on the task at hand.

No screwing around this time. I didn’t bother concentrating on the binding symbols, nor trying to shape the blue light as I had in the past. Like I had at Merrimoth’s, I just poured all my willpower into one singular thought—

Trap.

The boy made a choking sound as my immediate environment snapped back into view. The whispering hushed. And there was nothing foreign slithering down my leg. So far, so good.

Silver fog shrouded the air in front of me, creating a tunnel of swirling ethereal light that led to the blond boy. He was trapped inside it, sprawled on the front seat of his car, one leg dangling over the doorframe, gasping for breath.

What the hell kind of trap was this? It was as if I was radiating some sort of noxious silver gas. Then I noticed the point of origin: above my head. My hand flew to my hair. I jerked my head back and looked upward at my silver halo. Impossible! It was growing and spreading—like the silver fog from the night I slowed time at Merrimoth’s house.

An intense nausea made the ground below my feet seem to buckle. I stumbled, panicking, as the boy began crying for help, pleading for me to stop. Lon’s voice bellowed in the distance, entwining with the boy’s pleas. But it was the third voice, a lighter-than-air feminine voice that stabbed me like a dagger to the chest.

“Ma petite lune.”

I jumped back in surprise, lost my footing, and fell on my ass. The silver fog funneled back into me, rushing toward my face like a vortex was centered above my head, sucking it all back in. It happened so fast it made me dizzy. Every muscle contracted at once. I cringed, biting down on my tongue until it bled. I felt sick. Exhausted. And scared out of my mind.

An engine rumbled. Tires spun and squealed, kicking up a small cloud of dust that went up my nose as the blond boy drove away. I coughed, tasting blood. When the dust cleared, I spotted a dark figure huddled between two cars across the aisle. A man. Something about the way he was standing made me thing he was hiding. And the way he retreated deeper into shadow as I tried to focus on him made me think he was trying to slip away unseen.

As he moved out of sight, I thought of the dark sedan I’d seen outside the corner shop, though God only knew if there really was a connection. My head was so rattled at the moment, I was probably half-crazy. I tried to push myself up, but I was too weak.

“Cady!” Lon’s deep voice vibrated through me. “What happened? Talk to me.”