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Without hesitation or caution, he dashed inside.

“Stop!”

He did. Partly blinded by the change in light, he still saw enough to freeze.

The woman had long hair worn in braids that reached to her waist. She was short, muscular, chubby. There was a raw scrape or scratch along one of her plump cheeks. She wore a man’s blue work shirt tied at the waist with the sleeves rolled up, and a full skirt in faded tie-dye swirls.

The skirt was spread out around her on a big, pillowy bed covered in a lovely old-fashioned quilt. She held Toby’s limp body propped up against her with one sun-browned arm.

Her other hand held a knife to Toby’s throat. A butcher knife, large and efficient.

But he breathed. After a few seconds, Rule’s eyes adjusted enough to be sure of that. His son’s chest rose and fell steadily.

“Come in,” Mandy Ann said in a high, chirpy voice. “Oh, you already did!” She giggled. “But don’t come any closer. I don’t want to damage my boy’s new body.”

Cullen skidded to a stop beside Rule. “A ward,” he whispered. “There was a damned ward laid right into the earth. I didn’t see it until you crossed it and it flared, and too late then. She’d been warned.”

“Oh, aren’t you the pretty one. Pity I can’t use you.” Mandy Ann shook her head. “But Charley wants the boy. He told me so.”

“What’s wrong with Toby?” Rule did his best to keep the growl out of his voice. He didn’t entirely succeed. “What have you done to my son?”

“Is he your boy? Nothing at all. I gave him a bit of my special tea so he’d sleep. I wouldn’t want to scare the poor boy.”

Rule’s eyes had adjusted fully to the dim light inside the cabin. It was hot in there. He could feel his shirt sticking to his back. All the windows were open to catch what breeze they could, but the curtains were drawn. They barely swayed, listless.

The cabin was one large room, as he’d been told. Mandy Ann and the big, cozy bed occupied a prominent place on the south wall to his left. Opposite her were the living area and kitchen. There was a big wooden table in the kitchen that held an odd-looking piece of equipment. It reminded Rule of the paddles they use on those medical shows on TV when they yell, “Clear!” and try to jolt someone’s heart back to life.

A young woman with red hair and a galaxy of freckles sat at that table—in a manner of speaking. She was tied to one of the chairs. Her head hung limply. Her eyes were open and staring, and a fly crawled idly across one madly freckled cheek.

THE second Lily saw Rule and Cullen take off at that impossible speed, she knew the situation had gone south.

The hell with waiting on permission. Either Rule and Cullen would deal with what they found immediately, or they’d need backup. “Brown, come in from the west, get to the window on that side. Deacon, take the south window. Weapons drawn, but hold your fire unless I give the order, or if you can see there’s immediate danger of casualties. Use your judgment.” She hoped to God they had judgment. “I’m assuming a hostage situation.”

Deacon didn’t argue about jurisdiction or who could give orders to whom. He just unsnapped his holster, withdrawing a nice Glock. Brown drew his .38 from his shoulder holster—an old-fashioned guy, apparently.

“You two good shots?”

“Middlin’, with a handgun,” Deacon said. “Better with a rifle, but it’s a small cabin. At that range I’ll be okay.”

“And I,” Brown said, “am goddamned good. You’re taking the front, then. You going in quiet or loud?”

“Friendly. I’m going in real friendly.”

I’M going to have to ask you to tie each other up,” Mandy Ann said apologetically. “Oh—you can’t quite do that, can you?” She giggled again. “But you—you’re this one’s dad?—you can tie up your friend. I’m not sure what I’ll do with you, but we’ll start by you tying up your friend. Go on, now.” She shifted, pulling Toby with her as she scooted farther into the middle of the bed. She nodded at the big kitchen table with its three unoccupied chairs. “Sit yourself down next to Crystal.”

“I can’t think of why I’d do that,” Cullen said. Not arguing, exactly. Just making an observation.

“Because I’ll hurt the boy if you don’t, of course. I don’t want to.” She clucked her tongue. “Poor mite. I’d rather not hurt him at all, but I will if I have to. It won’t matter in the end, because once my boy’s in there with him, he’ll heal up whatever I had to do.” Her eyes gleamed merrily. “Keep that in mind, and behave. I can hurt him quite a bit if I have to.”

“I hope you won’t have to,” Lily said from the doorway.

Rule jolted. He hadn’t known she was there.

“Another one of you?” Mandy Ann’s eyes opened wide in amazement. “My, my. At least I know who’s going to tie up the big one, here. And I do have four chairs, don’t I?” She giggled.

That giggle was getting to Rule. Or maybe it was the corpse of the woman’s daughter, held upright by the ropes around her.

“What’s the plan, Mandy Ann?” Lily asked coolly. “How is this helping Charley?”

“You know about Charley? I guess you must, or you wouldn’t be here.” She cocked her head, smiling at Rule. “You mustn’t worry about your boy. He may not like it at first, but all children have to learn to share.”

“You want to put your dead son into my living son,” he said. “I’d call that hurting him.”

“Charley’s not dead.” For the first time the merriness slipped, letting out something barbed and frightened and quite mad. “And it won’t hurt, not a bit. Just ask Crystal. I thought he could use her, you see,” she confided. “But she’s so selfish. She didn’t want to share. It wasn’t wasted, though, all the time I spent learning how much current to use. Now I can do it right.”

The apparatus on the table that looked like an electrical paddle . . . That’s what it was. That’s why she’d started the generator, Rule realized with sick horror. But she didn’t want to start a heart with it. She meant to stop one.

Toby’s.

Lily said, “Mandy Ann, we can’t ask Crystal anything. We aren’t mediums, and Crystal is dead.”

“Don’t be silly.” But her hand tightened on the knife. “She’s sulking. She didn’t like it when I . . . when I . . . But I saved him. I saved my Charley. I didn’t understand at first . . .” Confusion clouded her eyes. “I did the spell right, but it didn’t tell me I had to find him a body. I thought he did that on his own. But he told me.” She straightened, giving a satisfied nod. “He told me he needs the boy. A lupus boy.”

“Did he?” Lily asked softly. “I don’t think he can talk to you, Mandy Ann. If he were a ghost, he could. But he isn’t exactly a ghost, is he?”

“Of course not. He’s not dead.”

“He talked to me.”

That got her attention. “When? What did he say?”

“When he possessed me, I could hear him. I could feel some of what he feels. He’s suffering terribly, Mandy Ann. He’s so very cold.”

“He is not suffering!” The chirpy voice turned shrill. “You’re lying. He didn’t talk to you at all.”

“Is he here? I bet you can see him, even if you can’t hear him very well. If he’s here, I could let him into me again, and he could tell you himself.”

“Lily—” Rule started to move, maybe to shake some sense into her. Mandy Ann jerked when he did, and a thin trickle of blood started down Toby’s throat.

“Now look what you made me do.” She sounded like she’d accidentally dropped an egg on the floor. “You all get over there now. Over to the table. Scoot, scoot.”

“All right,” Lily said easily, and started moving—and as she passed Rule she subvocalized quite audibly, “Sharpshooters at windows. Leave a clear field.”