The Savage Grace Page 48

“Whatever.” I grabbed Katie’s limp body and yanked her out of the way. “Why should she have all the fun?” I made sure Katie could stand on her own two feet and then pushed her aside. “Get lost, girl.”

Katie stumbled forward and then started walking in a lazy circle, like she was in a trance—which I guess is normal since she was. Hopefully, she’d stay dazed through what I had to do next.

“This one’s mine,” I said, stepping closer to Pete.

“I am?” Pete asked. He looked me up and down, taking in the tall boots, fishnet tights, little pleather shorts, lacy cami, mysterious eye mask, and my tough-girl leather jacket. He cocked his head in appreciation. “I am,” he said.

“You better be.” I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him close like I was about to kiss him. “I was promised a trance when I came to this party. Now give me what I want.”

“My pleasure,” he said, and clasped his taloned hands on either side of my face. “I always loved the feisty girls.” But just as he was about to look me in the eyes, I clamped my eyelids shut and kneed him as hard as I could in the groin.

Pete’s hands fell away from my face, and he wailed as he doubled over, coughing—proving that even the undead feel it where it counts.

I didn’t get much time for satisfaction before Pete roared and came charging at me with his fangs and talons bared. “I’m gonna kill you for that!”

I swung out of his way, and he tackled the werewolf dummy instead of me. He tore off one of its limbs and threw it to the ground.

“Really? Are you sure?” I asked. “’Cause I’m pretty certain this is actually the part where I kill you.”

“What?” Pete asked. His lips dropped over his Akh fangs.

I pulled out my stake from my jacket’s inside pocket. “Yep. That’s pretty much what’s going to happen.”

Pete screamed and lunged at me. I twisted out of his path and sent a kick into his back. He stumbled toward the Frankenstein statue. I was feeling pretty good about having him cornered, and my ability to be done with him soon, when a dazed Katie Summers stumbled and swayed right into him.

“No!” I shouted as he grabbed her by the neck, his sharp fingers wrapping around her throat. She didn’t even try to scream, but I could see the panic behind her glazed-over eyes, as she tried to fight her way out of her trance.

Pete propelled her forward by his grasp on her neck. “Let me pass or I’ll rip her throat out.”

I scrambled out of his way—what else could I have done—and let him drag Katie by the neck to the clearing’s exit. He was going to escape into the depths of the maze. I lifted my stake to throw at his back as he crouched to climb under the Grim Reaper’s scythe, but then he stopped and turned halfway toward me, making it impossible for me to aim at his heart.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ve got your scent. We’ll find you when I’m done with her.”

We?

Pete let out a cackle that sounded more like the screeching of a bird … but then the metal blade of the Reaper’s scythe came crashing down on his head. He screamed and let go of Katie. She sank to the ground, seemingly unconscious, just as Daniel burst out from behind the Reaper’s tattered robes and into the clearing.

I practically cheered when I saw him.

Pete screeched with anger.

Daniel smacked him in the head again with the scythe. It looked painful, but the blade was too dull to do any real damage. Daniel cast the weapon aside and grabbed Pete with his bare hands. Pete clawed at his grip and then went for Daniel’s neck, but Daniel pushed him away just in time. Pete whirled around and made a lunge at me instead. He sent a clawed hand at my face, ripping my mask off.

It fell to the ground, and my first instinct was to try to hide my face, to keep Pete from recognizing me, but really, what was the point now? Part of me wanted him to know it was me who was taking him down.

A shrill laugh escaped Pete’s lips. “As if I didn’t know it was you.”

“What?” I asked. As far as I knew, Pete should have thought I was your average mild-mannered pastor’s daughter. Not a demon hunter.

I jumped out of the way as Pete sent another clawed swipe at my face.

Daniel grabbed him from behind.

Pete struggled in his grasp. “They said you’d come for me!” he snarled. “They were waiting for me outside the hospital when I was reborn. They told me that all I had to do was kill that nurse and you’d eventually come looking for me. And they’d be waiting.”

“Who?” Daniel asked.

“My new family.” Pete broke free from Daniel’s grasp and tried to flip Daniel over his shoulder. Daniel was too quick and sent several punches into Pete’s side.

Pete grunted in pain. He stumbled away to the corner near the Frankenstein monster, holding his rib cage. At that moment he looked just like the old Pete Bradshaw. Not like some monster we’d come here to kill. For a second I wondered if I could still do it.

“Who are you talking about?” I asked, afraid I might already know.

Pete took in a deep, ragged breath through his nose. “Can’t you smell them coming? The people who want you dead.” Pete let out a sharp scream and ran at me. He looked like a rabid bat, claws extended, fangs bared. He was going for the kill.

As much as I hated to do it before getting a real answer, I thrust my stake deep into Pete’s chest. I let go, and he fell into the wall of brittle cornstalks. He clawed at the stake with his talonlike nails, scratching sparkly jewels from the hilt. He got purchase on the handle and pulled it out of his chest. It made a sound like something ripping through a paper bag. He looked at it with disdain and then threw it at my feet. A wicked smile curled on Pete’s lips, and he laughed.

“They’re gonna kill you,” he said, as his body burst into dust.

I clamped my hands over my face, not only so I wouldn’t inhale little Pete particles, but also because I couldn’t believe I’d actually killed Pete Bradshaw.

“What did he mean by … ?” Daniel started to ask, but a loud growling noise cut him off. Both our heads snapped toward the origin of the sound. It came from somewhere behind the Grim Reaper.

Another growl followed—from the opposite side of the clearing, beyond the tall cornstalks. Then more growling from outside all four walls of the square-shaped clearing.

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