holding it up to the sunlight. The rubies sparkled like fresh blood. She slid the band over her finger, afraid she’d drop it otherwise.
Faran stepped over Gillon’s body and grasped her hand, angling it to see the ring better. There was a flash of bloodred fire. “That’s the ring, all right. There can’t be two sets of rubies like that.” They stood like that for a long moment, hand in hand but for all the wrong reasons.
Finally, Faran spoke again. “Who was this guy and why did he have the ring?”
Lexie didn’t have a chance to reply. With a sudden grunting roar, Gillon surged from the dirt and grabbed Faran from behind. Faran’s eyes widened with surprise, but he twisted in the dead man’s grasp and grappled with him. With a snarl, Faran rammed Gillon against the tree with enough force that Lexie heard a crunch of splintering wood. It would have knocked an ordinary human senseless, but Gillon just wrapped his hands around Faran’s throat and started to squeeze.
Lexie had no weapon, so she dove for the cars to find one. The trunk of the sedan had popped open in the crash so she scrabbled inside, peeling up the carpet and grabbing the tire iron. She took a two-handed grip and whirled to face the two men.
Whatever Gillon was, he was as powerful as a werewolf. Faran was wrestling himself free of the choke hold, but it was taking all his strength. Gillon had him against the tree now, and Faran’s hands were on the man’s shoulders, holding him off. A fierce, feral snarling came from the combatants, but Lexie could not be sure which one was making the sound.
Faran’s foot snaked out, hooking Gillon’s knee. Gillon stumbled and Faran pounced, but the dead man kicked, launching Faran through the air. With animal grace, Faran twisted in the air, landing on all fours. Rocks and leaves skidded from beneath his feet, but he was up in an instant, braced for the next attack.
It came with terrible ferocity. Gillon bounded through the air, arms and legs arched the way a leaping spider splays its legs. His lips drew back from his teeth in a savage rictus. He might not have had fangs, but it was no less threatening.
But just as he leaped, Lexie skidded forward and swung the tire iron, putting all the weight of her body into the motion. It caught Gillon right in the ribs with a loud crack. For a moment, she thought the sound was her shoulder joints separating as the force of the impact shuddered all the way to her spine. But then Gillon seemed to fold in midair, ripping the iron from her hands as he fell.
That gave Faran all the time he needed to draw his weapon. The instant Gillon hit the ground, Faran fired two shots into his skull. The sound tore through Lexie, but that was not what shocked her most.
Gillon’s head exploded. Instantly, an acid smell hit Lexie’s senses, making her cough. Through stinging eyes, she could see the shadow of his bones appear through his flesh. As she blinked, the shadow grew darker, seeming to pulse from behind skin that grew more and more translucent. His hands and the remnants of his face—anywhere flesh showed from beneath his clothes—quivered like something made of gelatin. And then, with a sickening slurp, Gillon’s flesh oozed away into a glistening, yellowish puddle. A moment later, bones, clothing and even Faran’s bullets dissolved in an ashy smoke.
“That’s new,” Faran said, his voice brittle with disgust.
Lexie’s lips moved in a silent curse. She took a step toward Faran. His arm circled her waist and pulled her away from the smoking ruin. He’d gone pale, but his hand was firm and warm against her. They stopped a few yards away, Lexie stumbling against Faran. She leaned into him, grateful for the solid wall of his body. Lexie wanted to bury her face against him like a child and wish the world away, but instead she simply stood with her head bowed, her back against his chest. His support, at least, was something she could accept.
For that instant, she could almost believe that everything would be all right. They’d stopped fighting each other and conquered a common enemy. But now her nerves were jittering, flooding every muscle with the need to move. She curled her fingers, nails biting into the palms of her hands. It was as if a spring was overwound inside her and fighting that energy would only make her crack.
In the distance, Lexie heard the wail of distant sirens. Had somebody on one of the nearby farms heard the gunshots? “Do you think that’s the police? Are they coming for us?”
“Do you feel like trusting our luck?” Faran replied in a weary tone.
She looked at the crumpled car, the stinking smear on the ground where Gillon had been, and at the glittering—stolen—rubies on her hand. Even with no actual dead body, there was no way this would end well.
Her hand gripped Faran’s. “You know how I like to run?”
Pressed against him, she felt as much as heard his reply. “Yup. I’m right behind you. Let’s get out of here.”
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