I spun in that direction, squinting through the darkness.

“Dang it,” Reagan muttered.

“What? What is it?”

“We don’t see anything yet. Give us a little more time.”

“What?” I chanced a look over at her. She was dropping her hand from her ear, having advised the others to hang back. “Won’t more people be merrier?”

“Not those clowns. The captain is all right, but he’s seen his day. He usually hangs back, and then Garret gets all up in my business.”

I hurried along the periphery of the fountain, slowing down at the halfway point to be level with her. The sooner we met up, the better. In the meantime, I eyed the murky water separating us. If I had to, I’d sprint across that without a problem. I wouldn’t be fazed in the least.

A twig cracked, startling me, and movement caught my eye. A woman with an hourglass figure and long, flowing hair moved through a gap in the foliage beyond the cement enclosure. Colorful streams of magic flowed around her, wispy but bright. Gleeful intent that should have been paired with cackling beckoned us near, drawing us in.

“She wants us to follow her,” I said, cold flowing over my skin. My impulse was to run back the way I’d come, refusing the magic’s invitation.

“What? Where?” Reagan hopped up on the lip of the fountain.

“There.” I pointed. “Just through there. I saw her meander by.”

“Meander, huh.” Reagan gracefully jogged along the lip, not at all concerned about losing her balance on the half-foot-wide surface and falling into the dirty pond. “She thinks she has nothing to fear, does she?”

I picked up the pace and met Reagan as she hopped off the fountain at the far end. “How do you know?”

She shook her head. “Where did you see her, exactly? And in what form?”

“Lady form. I couldn’t tell if she was young, but she wasn’t old. Right through there.” I pointed. “But she was moving that way.”

“Time to rock.” And Reagan was off at a fast jog, heading in the opposite direction of the banshee.

“This is where we need a plan,” I said, not knowing what else to do other than run after her. I certainly wasn’t going in the direction the thing was going. I might get tucked into the chariot of death before Reagan could save me.

“Never do what they want you to do. We don’t follow the rules.” Reagan did a circle in the air with her finger. “Circle around.”

“That doesn’t mean anything to me,” I said desperately, crashing through the bushes into a small opening with a bench off to one side and a small path running through it. Leafy trees and bushes blocked off my visibility beyond the opening, making me a prime target for a banshee ambush.

Reagan was already ten feet in front of me, with the distance growing.

I launched forward, trying to open myself to the world around me, and instead noticed all the little pockets of darkness dotting the way. Anything could jump out of those pockets. Sure, the size was off for a person-sized ghoul, but if she could change form, maybe she could change size.

Various banshee forms rolled through my head, effectively eliminating my ability to summon spells. I couldn’t tell if that was better or worse.

The path forked—I could either go straight ahead or turn left through the trees. I hadn’t seen which way Reagan had ducked. The leaves on the right shivered. It wasn’t until I had turned left and was jogging past another bench that I noticed all the leaves were shivering and the branches ahead, where the path dumped into empty space, shook.

It was just the wind.

I released a heavy breath.

“Reagan?” I called as loudly as I dared, slowing on the path. Dried leaves rubbing together filled the silence, like an audience laughing and cheering at my vaudeville act of bounty hunting.

“Reagan?” I called again, a little louder.

A soft song drifted over and around the bushes flanking the path. Sweet yet sad, the music was intended to bring tears to my eyes. Wisps of magic rode the breeze, trying to pull me to the left side of the path.

There wasn’t a specific spell being aimed at me. More of a feeling. A deep longing to feel the warm embrace of a loved one, safe and secure. It didn’t even claw at me, though the underlying intent seemed to hint that it would, but it stroked my face and cupped my cheek.

“Hells to the no.” I took off, running faster than Reagan had and aiming for an open area up the way. I needed to see this thing coming.

The soft song turned into an intense wail, loud and long. It pulled back the fuzzy blanket and exposed a set of iron fangs, chomping through the air right on my tail.

I chanced a look back. My eyes didn’t see anything, but my imagination was really going wild on this one, and it was severely messing me up.

A body burst out of the bushes in front of me. Magic swirled around it, whipping and lashing. An old woman reached for me, welcoming me into her arms.

“Cluster-sucking wally twat!” Reagan had taught me some new Euro-slang that Americans (namely my mother) might not realize were swear words.

My mind buzzed, no spells at the ready, so I reacted how I did when Reagan was after me and I had nothing magical with which to beat her back.

I pulled my fisted hands to my chest, jumped into the air, and struck out with my foot, the execution perfect.

My shoe hit the banshee’s face. I pulled my leg in, landed on balanced, evenly spaced feet, jabbed with my left hand and, seeing the old woman reeling, stepped forward and delivered a strong right hook.

Without slowing down, I pivoted and took off running. I was no freaking hero.

I dove through the bushes, followed by a scream-wail like nails on chalkboard. Once on the other side, I heaved a sigh, seeing a stretch of grass to the right. I just had to make it—

A body crashed through the bushes on my left.

I screeched and spun, punching out. A hard forearm swiped through the air, knocking my fist away. Only then did I see who it was.

“Where is it?” Reagan asked, completely cool.

“Sorry…” I jogged farther away from the bushes. “There.” I pointed back the way I’d come.

She was gone in an instant, crashing through like a rampaging elephant.

“Crazy,” I said between pants. “She’s…crazy.”

But she was also my partner, and I couldn’t leave her to chase that thing on her own, regardless of how excited she was by the prospect.

“Bollocks.” I jumped in after her, finding her on the other side, crouched, her sword in hand. She shoved me behind her when I staggered into her side, and put her finger to her lips.

I put my hands out like claws, because without a sword, I had to do something scary, and let the night roll over me. The dense smell of foliage greeted my senses and the moisture of the night layered my skin. Stars blinked down at us from overhead and the breeze ruffled my hair.

Everything stabilized. My fear drifted into the background and my brain stopped buzzing. Nature reached out her comforting hand for me, and I took it. Within one of my compartments, I felt a power stone beg to be taken out.

It was the rock Emery had sent me from Ethiopia, Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky. I was now pretty sure it was most pleased when around danger. Like Emery when certain moods struck him.

“There you go,” Reagan said, rising enough to step forward slowly. “There’s the power. Now, use me. Connect with me the way you did with those witches. And for the love of God, turn around so you can watch our six.”

Of course she hadn’t shoved me behind her so she could protect me. She was looking at me as an equal, not a damsel in distress.

I felt a little sheepish, and a lot empowered, as I about-faced.

I felt Reagan’s magic pulsing near me, a riptide of power, ready to suck me in and overcome me. The woman was packing large, and it still impressed and disconcerted me. I pulled it into the bubble I’d formed from my magic and Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky’s, letting her intense, spicy magic bolster ours.

“Did you do it?” she asked, taking another step forward.

“Yes. Can’t you feel it?”

“No. I don’t have that kind of magic. Okay, here’s the situation. She’s good at hide-and-seek, and we can’t just go crashing into her or she wins. Quite tricky, this one. A worthy adversary.” Reagan looked behind. “The ol’ broad is hiding from me, but she went after you. She clearly senses that vulnerable thing you do and wants easy prey. So we’re going to dangle the bait.”

My stomach twisted. “I’m the bait, aren’t I?”

“Yes.” Reagan took another step forward. “So. Off you go. And hurry. Those clowns are headed our way, trying to help trap her. They honestly have no clue. It’s embarrassing.”

“Aren’t you using me to trap her?”

“No. I’m using you to entice her out of her hiding place. It’s a game of cat-cat-mouse.”

“There are too many cats in that game.”

“Probably. Off you go. Oh yes, that hunching thing—do more of that.”

The hunching was a natural reaction to the fear and stress of the situation, and I didn’t need to be told to do more of it. That was a given.

My bubble wobbled, but my power stone got twice as excited, so I focused on that. Overtaking Reagan, I walked toward where the path dumped into the clearing, hoping I could reach that before the creature came after me. A quick glance behind showed Reagan drifting into the bushes, hiding from sight.

I wasn’t on my own, though. She was on scene. She’d be watching.

Steeling my courage, holding the power stone in a white-knuckled grip, I inched my way up the path and dunked back into the liquid, unnatural silence that had preceded the creature’s wails. Dark gaps laughed at me as I passed, possibly hiding evil within their depths. A cloud wafted across the moon overhead, seeping what little color there was from the world around me.

At the end of the path, nothing had happened. No sound had reached my ear. If she was waiting for me to be alone, she clearly wasn’t satisfied yet. She had to know Reagan waited just out of sight.

Fine. You want me by myself, let’s do this.

I started up a jog, past the bushes and out to the grass beyond, blessed space opening up around me. One of the massive trees stood sentry a hundred feet out, and I headed for that, stopping near its huge trunk. Branches bowed around me, some swooping low enough to kiss the grass.

Shouts and calls sounded in the distance, and I figured that was probably the other team getting into a position.

With a freaking plan.

After scanning the bushes back the way I’d come, I shifted my gaze all the way around me, stopping at the edge of the house. Nothing moved or even shook. All was quiet. Waiting.

Knowing that whatever vulnerability I exuded, magically or otherwise, was tied to my fear, I let the tremors come. The uncertainty. I was out here, on my own, without a magic sword, any experience, or the slightest clue of how to kill a banshee.

My bubble wavered and the buzz of terror crept back into my brain.

Before I could try and call back the bubble, I heard it. The soft song on the breeze. The longing for a comforting embrace.

The banshee was taking the bait, but I was no longer ready for it.