One Grave at a Time (Night Huntress #6)(85)

Kramer fell back, unable to protect himself against the blows that came faster than he could react. The ghost had spent centuries dishing out punishment, but from his ineffective counterattacks, he hadn’t spent enough time learning how to defend against it. Battle lust surged through my veins, fueled by the rage I’d held back while Kramer was pawing at me and the knowledge of all the people who’d been unable to fight back due to the superstition and unfairness of the age they lived in. My blows rained down harder and quicker, every nasty, effective trick Bones taught me bearing glorious fruit in the hoarse grunts of pain coming from Kramer as he tried to shield himself.

No, you don’t get away! I thought, increasing my attack when he attempted to crawl out of range of my fists and feet. Especially not tonight.

Just when I was at the height of the euphoric high from delivering a well-deserved beat down, calamity struck.

. . . light over there . . . that’s fire! . . . got to get out of here . . . where are the kids? . . . oh my God, the crops! . . . help, someone help me!

A hundred different voices assailed my mind at the same instant, as debilitating as a karate kick to the face. I clutched my head before I could stop myself, backing away from Kramer in a blind attempt to run before he noticed that I’d stopped beating the shit out of him. But that merciless cascade of voices chased me as I went, growing in volume as if fueled by my agitation.

Kramer launched himself at me with the same single-minded determination I’d showed with him. This time, it was me who couldn’t field the blows fast enough as those voices hammered away in my mind, taking my focus away during the critical split seconds between ducking a kick or punch and having one land with devastating effect. His tackle brought me to my knees, and then a sharp crack to my back had me bent over with pain shooting up my spine. Kramer drew back his foot to kick me again—and his leg was yanked upward. He fell back and was pounced upon by a beautiful brunette who, at the moment, was as solid as he was.

“Run, Cat!” Elisabeth urged me, pounding away at her murderer.

I didn’t run. I waited with overflowing gratitude while Elisabeth gave me the precious moments needed to force the voices down to levels where they didn’t cripple me with distraction. By the time Kramer had regained the upper hand, throwing her to the ground and landing punishing blows to her midsection, I was on my feet, a fresh surge of determination cascading through me. If Elisabeth was here, then Bones couldn’t be far behind.

I launched myself onto the Inquisitor, ripping my fangs through the back of his neck hard enough to sever every tendon. The foulest taste filled my mouth—not blood, but something damp and moldy like it had come from the ground. I spat it out but kept ripping at his neck because it made him scream with pain and stop punching Elisabeth. She vanished underneath in the next moment, appearing beside me in her usual vaporous, hazy state.

“I can’t help you any more!” she said in anguish. “I don’t have the strength to remain solid.”

Kramer tried to get up, but I rammed my knee into his back hard enough to cripple a normal person and tore a larger hunk out of his neck, spitting it out before answering her.

“You already gave me the help I needed.”

Kramer said something to her in German, unbelievably able to talk despite what I’d done to his neck. I caught the word “hure” amidst the others and snaked an elbow around his throat, pulling up with all my might.

I felt an abrupt lessening of tension, fell backward from my momentum and not having anything to grasp anymore, but when I sprang to my feet, Kramer was also on his. Not only did he still have a head, but the damage I’d done to his neck looked completely healed.

“You can’t kill me, Hexe,” Kramer said, poison dripping off each word. “I am beyond your powers.”

“I’m going to show you that you’re not,” I snarled.

“Why do you fight?” he demanded. “Though you and the others live now, you cannot run from me forever, and you will never trick me into one of your cunning traps.”

I looked up at the sky behind him and smiled, feeling a familiar swell of unadulterated power wash over me.

“You’re right. I’m in no shape to fly you 250 miles to where our new trap is.” Kramer’s victorious smile ebbed when I added, “But I bet my husband’s up for the job.”

Kramer turned around just in time to have a dark form blast into him with enough force to dig a deep furrow into the ground.

“And they say I can’t land without making a mess,” I commented to no one in particular.





Thirty-eight



Bones took one look at my condition and began beating the dark, foul-tasting substance out of Kramer. I’d done a fair job against him myself, but Bones was a lot stronger and hadn’t used up most of his energy healing himself from being burned to kingdom come, let alone been overwhelmed by unexpected voices. I would have loved to keep watching, but I still had things to take care of.

“I need to make sure Francine’s out of the fields,” I said, speaking up to be heard over Kramer’s groans of pain. “She’s covered in gasoline; if she runs into the wrong section of field, it could kill her.”

That wasn’t a concern for me anymore. I was pretty sure any part of my skin that formerly had gasoline on it had been burned off.

“Go,” Bones said, his arm so tight around the Inquisitor’s throat that it would kill him if he weren’t already dead. “I’ve got him.”