A Dawn Most Wicked (Something Strange and Deadly 0.5)(28)

“Mr. Boyer.” I stepped in front of Joseph. “You can’t stop all these ghosts.”

Joseph’s head lifted. He gave a heavy, clenching blink and nodded. “Non. If I could only get the lodestone, then I could destroy it. That would . . .” He drew in a ragged breath and straightened. “That would stop the ghosts. Blast them to oblivion all at once.”

I twisted to Jie. “Have you seen the horns?”

Her head shook once. “We didn’t get that far— Hey!” She dove past me. Her arms flew around Joseph. “I told you not to stand without my—” Her words broke off. Joseph’s arms had risen. A blue glow collected around his flexed fingers.

Then his hands flung forward. Electricity erupted from his fingertips. It crackled over the deck, two bolts of lightning that rammed a mass of black oozing down the stairs.

Lines of light sizzled over the spirits, showing one, two—I lost count. There were so many ghosts.

The light snapped off. The air shook with the sound and the heat.

And Joseph toppled forward. But Jie’s grip was true; she kept him from collapsing. I lunged to her side—awe pulsing through my skull at this man’s ability—and together we held Joseph upright.

“Mr. Boyer,” Jie snapped. “You gotta stop. Save your energy for the horns.”

“I cannot,” Joseph mumbled. “Not when lives . . . might . . . be . . .” His words died on his tongue as his eyes rolled back into his head.

I cursed. Joseph was fading too quickly—the man needed more power.

He needed raw electricity.

And with that thought I knew exactly what to do. “Come on. We’re takin’ him downstairs.”

Reaching the hallway to the engine room proved harder than I expected. Ghosts and firemen were everywhere. Joseph had at least regained his feet by the time we reached the main stairwell, but Jie had to slap the man—three times—to keep him from using his power.

And when we passed the firemen, hurt and fighting a foe they couldn’t beat, I stopped and bellowed my rage at the ghosts. But as I lunged for them, Jie’s arms slung around me, her voice howling in my ear to stay on track.

We reached the Main Deck’s darkened hallway at last, and I towed Joseph and Jie to the first exploded lamp. While Jie situated Joseph in a half-lean, half-crouch, I wrapped my fist in my sleeve.

Then I grabbed the lamp and braced myself with a foot against the wall. Pain lanced up my arm, into my chest. Blood flecked on my shirt. I yanked again.

“What’re you trying to do?” Jie yelled, suddenly beside me.

“Get.” Yank. “The lamp.” Yank. “Off.”

“Move,” she snarled. I skittered back, just in time to see her crouch low and spring directly up. Her arm crooked midair, and then her elbow crashed into the lamp.

The sconce fell from the wall, sparks flew, and Jie’s feet hit the ground. She threw me a glare. “Next time just ask.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, already moving to the now-empty expanse. Two wires jutted from a hole, and their tips sparkled with electricity. My hand still wrapped, I grabbed the sparking wires and tugged them out.

Joseph lifted, and understanding flashing in his eyes. “Raw electricity.”

“Raw electricity,” I confirmed. “And you’re gonna use it. But you have to stay here. Jie and I will get the horns, bring them to you, and then you—”

Joseph’s hand clamped on the wires, cutting me off. The Spirit-Hunter’s eyes blazed blue. His hand shot up. Lightning boomed from his fingertips, crashing into another tangle of spirits. Electricity hissed and burned so bright that I had to squint to see.

Then it vanished—the electricity, the ghosts, the thunder.

Jie swore under her breath, her eyes popping from her head. This man had a skill I had never even known was possible. . . .

“Well, Mr. Sheridan,” Joseph said, a fresh vigor in his voice, “your theory regarding raw electricity holds true. Now, if you could please bring me the lodestone.” The edges of his lips twitched into an almost cruel smile. “I have a curse and shipload of spirits to hunt.”

After exchanging a glance, Jie and I set off. Back through the carnage, back through the spirits.

We reached the Main Deck in seconds. I craned my neck as we ran for the next set of stairs, trying to see inside the pilothouse. But I could make out nothing at this angle.

“The next floor is bad!” Jie shouted, loping onto the first step. “We gotta run, yeah? Fast.”

“I am runnin’ fast!” I yelled. My pulse banged in time to my feet—bam, bam, bam up the steps.

“Not fast enough!” Jie shrieked. “Drop!”

I toppled forward. My hands slammed onto the steps right before my teeth hit—and right before a tornado roared overhead, screeching for blood.

Then we were back on our feet. We barreled up the final steps and hit the Passenger Deck.

But my legs almost gave out. Everywhere I looked, I saw black nothingness. My fingers were numb, my nose overwhelmed by rotting soil, and my brain—the hunger for blood hammered in further with each scream. It lodged in my chest. Awakened a craving of my own—for blood and vengeance against everyone who’d ever crossed me.

Jie’s braid whipped ahead of me, diving and flowing. Back and forth, over and under, she eluded spirits like a snake.