Thin Air

“You’ll have to learn.”

“But-”

“Just go.”

Ve

“No.” An image of something from Eamon’s filthy, diseased brain rose up in my head, and I almost gagged. I didn’t want to live that nightmare from my sister’s point of view, too. “You were right. I’ve seen enough for now.”

Ve

He was waking up, and I didn’t know if I could face him again.

“Ve

“Yes.”

“Can you get them?”

She extended her hand, and a set of keys appeared in her tiny palm.

“Can you give them to Sarah?”

She didn’t even have to move to do it, just shrugged and the keys faded out and disappeared. A few seconds later I heard the black car start up with a rumble.

I didn’t turn to watch. I didn’t take my eyes off of Eamon as he moaned, clutched his head, and staggered to his feet. He looked quite mad. His eyes were fiercely bloodshot, and there were trickles of blood coming from his nostrils. I’d done that to him.

The sound of the car faded into the distance before he managed to straighten up. Sarah was gone.

Now it was just the three of us.

Well, two of us, because without warning Ve

Eamon sniffed, wiped at the blood on his face, and glared at me. “What the hell did you do to me?” he growled.

“You’ll be all right.” I had no idea if he would or not, actually, but right at the moment if his brain exploded like a pumpkin in a microwave, I couldn’t really care. “Don’t.”

He took a couple of steps in my direction. His body language was attack-dog stiff.

“Stop.”

“Where’s Sarah?” he spit at me, all Cockney edges and sharp angles, and I held out my hand toward him, palm out.

A wall of wind hit him and shoved him back, hard. Knocked him on his ass.

He got up and lunged. I knocked him back again, and this time he took out a knife.

“Oh, come on, Eamon, look around!” I said, and jerked my head at the police cars, the firefighters, the onlookers all still staring at the wrecked building. The news crews. “You really want to do this? Here?”

“Where is she?” he yelled, and paced from side to side. His eyes were almost crimson from the burst blood vessels, and the expression in them was just one breath away from complete insanity. He held the knife concealed at his side, but he was clearly on the verge of violence. “You stupid, interfering bitch. Do you think you’re saving her? She’ll kill herself! She’s already tried! I’m trying to save her!”

“You’re the reason she’s dying inside,” I said. “And damned if I’m going to let you do that to her. Sarah’s strong. She’ll be fine.”

“She won’t! For Christ’s sake, woman, who do you think your sister is, exactly? She’s not some helpless, stupid waif! Her ex-husband didn’t get wealthy by keeping his hands clean, and she was neck-deep in it, too. Taking up with me wasn’t a sign of her weakness; it was a sign she recognized an opportunity, that’s all. You think I don’t know that’s wrong? I know what I am!” I didn’t want to buy it, but there was an undeniable desperation to what he was saying. “I did this for her!”

I blinked. “What?” I hadn’t gotten that far in his memories before Ve

“The building, you twit! Sarah owns it! She’ll be making a fortune from the insurance. This was her idea, you bloody fool.”

I didn’t believe him. I couldn’t. Not…not that. “You’re a lying, crazy bastard.”

“No, I’m a fool. So are you. She used you.”

“You’re a liar. Sarah had nothing to do with any of it.” I was shaking, I was so angry. “I told her to go ahead and spend your suitcase full of money. That’s for being an asshole, Eamon.”

Something flashed in his expression, and I braced myself. “Just one problem, love,” he said. “I don’t have a suitcase of money. Sarah does, and she got it by selling you far, far down the river. She’s driving off with cash and a car, and leaving the two of us to finish each other. Not bad for a helpless little drug-addled waif, eh?”

I felt stu

Eamon took another step toward me, and I snapped my attention back to the present. “Put down the knife, Eamon.”

He looked at it, turning it in his long, sensitive fingers like he’d never seen it before. “Ah,” he said. “But that would mean I wouldn’t have any fun at all. And I’d so hate to disappoint dear Sarah by not living down to her expectations. She does need to understand that there are limits to my patience, and you’re just the way to show her.”

And he lunged for me, knife out.

I blew him backward, and I didn’t even know how I’d done it, except that I’d reached for something, and something had responded.

I didn’t blow him far, and he snarled, and he came back for me, and I knew if he came within slashing distance my ass was dead.

So I made the sand melt under his feet, like the Wardens had done to me when they’d been trying to trap me, and Eamon plunged without a sound below the surface.

Ve

I had no idea what she was talking about, because I was trying to figure out what I’d done. I’d meant to trap Eamon’s legs, the way I’d been restrained, but instead…Where the hell was he? “Eamon?” I asked, and took a step forward. “Eamon, are you all right?”

The sand eroded under my feet. I yelped and jumped back.

Whatever I’d done, it was still spreading.

The sand sagged where I was standing, and I continued a slow, uncertain retreat. “Um…Ve

She was still staring at me, with a light in her eyes that was creepily close to rapture. “It’s you,” she said. “You’re happening.”

“Not helpful!” I tried to figure out how to make sand sticky again. That seemed to be not quite as instinctual as making it slippery and talcum powdery. “How do I stop this?”

“Let him die,” she said. “It’s the best thing, really.”

And she skipped away.

What the hell…?

I had bigger issues: Namely, I was killing a guy, probably, and whatever chain reaction I’d set in motion looked likely to collapse the entire beach, the cliff, maybe the whole California coastline before I could get it under control. And I had no idea what I was doing.

But somebody did.

I circled around the spreading pit of quicksand and vaulted over the low rocks. Jamie Rae and Stan, my friendly neighborhood Warden cops, were stretched out on the sand, carefully arranged to look like they were napping. Jamie Rae murmured something in her sleep and burrowed closer to Stan. Cozy.

“Hey!” I said, and grabbed Stan’s arm, hauling him up. His eyes tried to open, then fluttered shut. He wasn’t quite deadweight, but damn close. “Stan, wake up. Wake up! Warden emergency! Yo!”