I opened my mouth to warn them. But then I felt a frozen hand touch my shoulder and sink beneath my skin.
Cold flooded my veins and I shrieked as I felt the ghost enter my body. It was like sliding into a bathtub full of ice cubes and getting shoved into a contortionist box all at once as my consciousness was crammed into a tiny corner of myself.
“Hailstorm!” Evan yelled, his voice tight with concern as he caught up to me. “What’s wrong?” My brother’s best friend whipped me around and, as he did, I saw Andros’ huge fist shatter Claude’s nose with a punch that sprayed blood like a garden hose. The old bastard slid to the ground, not just to his knees this time—he face-planted on the cement floor.
Good. I hoped the asshole got brain damage.
“Hey!” Evan pulled me toward him again as Andros turned to Ginny to do the same thing to her. The huge man’s chest heaved with anger. Older and bigger than the rest of my crew, Andros was also hardened. He’d done real time. He knew exactly what we’d face if we got caught, which is why, even though he clenched his jaw and grimaced at the thought of hitting a woman, he still raised his hand—
But my legs shot forward—faster than I’d ever run in my life—and my body swooped in front of the bitch just in time for Andros’ giant fist to connect with my face instead of Ginny’s.
Pain sizzled through my nerves like lightning bolts.
Holy shit!
I watched shock and regret register on Andros’ face. His square jaw tightened and his normal frown got even darker. “4-H?” he asked.
I didn’t respond. I just attacked him—because I’d become a puppet on a string. The ghost inside my body swung my fist at Andros, connecting with his ribs.
The huge man was a wall of muscle and barely grunted, but it felt like I fractured my knuckles. My eyes watered and a little whimper escaped. I wanted to collapse in pain, but the ghost had other plans for me. The ghost swung my leg in a roundhouse kick that Andros caught. My teammate held me, leg aloft, and stepped closer, his hips between mine, his deep-set blue eyes flickering over mine; his expression asked what was going on without words.
I tried to shove my mouth open, I tried to shout an answer, but the ghost clamped my jaw shut so quickly that my teeth hurt.
I batted at the bastard inside my brain but he just snickered and my insides grew even colder, goosebumps rising on my skin.
Behind us, Ginny chortled as she shot me a knowing look and a wink before she blasted UV light at the others on my team, blinding them so she could bend to check on Claude.
I heard Evan gasp in pain behind me as she gave him the most brutal intense sunburn, but I couldn’t look back to check on him.
From the shadows, I heard Malcolm call out my nickname, “Shakespeare!”
The ghost wouldn’t let me turn my head, he just lit my hands up with UV magic and tried to burn a hole in Andros’ face with the pale blue magic.
Thank fuck Andros was quick enough to bend my hands down and let the light shoot harmlessly toward the floor—I could have blinded him, burnt him, hurt him irreparably. My thoughts were a whirl of fear and fury. The sensation of being possessed weighed me down like an anchor. It felt hard to breathe—it felt like I was under the waves: my body was swollen, lungs filled with seawater instead of air, about to burst.
Fuck.
I couldn’t say any of that. I couldn’t scream, couldn’t warn the guys, couldn’t explain myself. When I struggled to speak again, the ghost slammed my teeth onto my tongue until I could taste blood. Then he yanked my body out of Andros’ hold and walked stiffly back to Claude’s side to protect the bastard from a new attack by Gray.
Gray’s wind stopped when my body blocked Claude, whom Gray had been blowing toward the far wall.
A cold that resembled brain freeze traveled over my mind as the pirate-ghost-man whispered inside my head, “I own you.”
Of course, that set off every fight instinct I had.
I tugged at my limbs and tried to force my eyes closed. I wasn’t strong enough for that. My eyelids merely twitched, even though it felt like I was throwing my full body weight around, yanking on a giant red velvet theater curtain and trying to shut it. But my consciousness was tiny and my body felt so impossibly huge.
The ghost just chuckled inside my head and batted me away, like my will was a gnat, annoying and insignificant.
God dammit.
Clearly, I couldn’t fight him head on.
I tried to change my approach. If he thought I wanted control of my head, I’d try something different. My consciousness raced from my face down toward my hands, which the ghost had filled with light magic and directed at the guys. He was draining whatever was left of my natural power faster than a hooker drained a dick. I was nearly out and that made me panic.
I’d never been fully depleted before.
I mentally yanked at my hands, trying to stop the flow of magic—my heart pounded in my chest and my mind careened like a raft through the rapids—every ounce of my existence focused on trying to shove that magic back, even as I heard the ghost control my lips.
He made me smile and say, “I’m going to kill you all.” A laugh I didn’t recognize spilled out of my mouth as the ghost turned me to face my team and slowly lifted my hand higher, shoving out more magic, making my entire body quake as my magic changed and the glow disappeared from my hand.
Wait? What? I felt the pull on my magic. But I didn’t see the normal stream of light or shadow emanating from my palm. I flipped on my infrared vision, but there was nothing there, though I could feel the power leeching out of me. I turned on my X-ray vision and saw my team turn into a pack of skeletons trading magical shots with Ginny until she screamed in pain. But still, my hands didn’t look like they held an ounce of power.
I switched my vision to the end of the spectrum, past X-ray and into lethal territory.
Gamma radiation. The ghost had turned on my most lethal weapon.
No! Fucking no!
My soul scrabbled and my body spasmed as I tried to figure out exactly how to expel this fucker …
“She’s possessed!” Malcolm was the first to figure it out.
“I can’t see,” I heard Evan moan in the background, making alarm shoot through my system. Had my light …? I couldn’t even think it.
I had to stop this ghost.
Had to.
Instead of turning off my magic—which the undead asshole had somehow turned up to full blast so that it was raging out of me like I was a damned fire hydrant—I simply tried to flip the switch.
Light to shadow. One power to the other. My shadows couldn’t hurt the guys.
As soon as my power swapped in one hand, I felt suction on my bones, as if a vacuum was trying to swallow me—trying but slipping.
My consciousness expanded and, suddenly, my mind didn’t feel quite as crowded as before. It didn’t feel as small.
I succeeded at curling my fingers in, but only slightly.
Somehow, I’d seized back control of myself.
The ghost barreled into my psyche. Even though the match was internal, I felt each one of his movements as though they were real, as if we were two bodies fighting inside my own personal, virtual reality. I felt it when he punched my soul and kicked my spirit just as if we were facing off in a boxing ring. As we grappled inside my head, my body seized, quaking. My power shifted from light to shadow and back again as each of us tried to decimate the other and wrest control away.