I'M IN A ROOM. DAZZLING WHITE. NO WINDOWS or doors. Now what?
I touch the amulet.
It warms and begins to glow. As it does, shapes form out of nothingness. A table. A round globe in the center.
I approach it. I know what I'm supposed to do. Something deep in my subconscious guides me. I place both hands on the globe.
Beneath my fingertips, it stirs as if alive. Beneath my fingertips . . . My physical senses are sharper. I watch, fascinated, excited, as clouds form in the sphere, then clear.
I see a room. A bed. An old woman lying still beneath a quilt of grass. She opens her eyes and looks up at me. Awareness blooms behind cataractous eyes. No fear. A smile. She beckons with a crooked finger.
A whirl of movement.
I'm at the bedside.
Belinda Burke is sitting up. She is bent with age and stoop-shouldered. Her face is lined. She is squinting at me through lenses shrouded in the opaque film of age. But she recognizes me. Her bitter malevolence permeates the air like moisture after a summer storm.
"You came, Anna. Not Williams. But I shouldn't be surprised. Did you kill him?"
She shakes her head without waiting for me to answer. "No. Of course not. It's not in you to kill. You still fight the animal within. It will be your downfall, you know."
She stirs, one gnarly hand grasping the blanket as if to throw it off.
I move faster, grab that hand, still it.
She smiles up at me. "You have no power here."
"From what I see, neither do you."
A breath stirs the hair on the back of my neck. It's like the breeze from an open door. I whirl around.
The guy from the restaurant, the one I assumed was Burke 's bodyguard, is behind me. He looks bigger than I remembered. He 's dressed exactly like before, oddly tailored black suit. The only difference this time is his eyes. They are opaque like Burke's.
Her laugh is high-pitched, malicious. "You didn't think I'd be without protection, did you?" She waves a hand.
The man advances on me. He's snarling, snapping at the air like a dog.
I know I should be scared. In this place, I have no vampire strength or speed. And yet, I was a bounty hunter long before I got those powers. I'd learned to protect myself as a human. He's human, too. He's used to his size intimidating people. It doesn't intimidate me.
I step away from him. A side kick to the solar plexus catches him off guard. A follow -up elbow to the face and he staggers back. He shakes his head. Roars in outrage.
His hand moves to open his jacket.
Shit. Weapons do work here. I rush him. He's too big to get my arms around. He's male. The kick catches him square in the groin. It staggers him. But it's not enough. I put every bit of strength I have into a follow-up.
That works.
He gasps, doubles over, grabs at himself. Color floods his face.
My chance. I use the heel of my palm to strike the deathblow. An upward blow fueled by the pain and desperation of eighteen young girls. A blow that smashes the cartilage in his nose and forces bone into his brain with a satisfying crunch.
He goes down like a rock.
Now for Belinda.
I draw the blade from the sheath at my waist and show it to her.
Still, no fear. Her arrogance provokes a strange reaction in me. Not anger. Not resentment.
Confidence. I let the corners of my mouth tip up.
She frowns at the smile, waves an impatient hand in the direction of her fallen lackey. "It won't be as easy for you to kill me as it was him."
"No? Why?"
"You were defending your life with him. You won't kill me, Anna. I'm an old woman. Bedridden. Helpless. You pride yourself on being human. You think you know what you are meant to do with that humanity. Protect the weak. I have nothing to fear from you."
Even as I step close to the bed, her expression and tone don't change. She is unafraid, contemptuous.
"You are a stupid girl. Like my sister. You made a mistake coming after me. A mistake you will regret. I will rest here awhile. Then I will return. You will not see it coming. Either of you."
I move without thought, without hesitation. The knife slides in easily. Under the left breast. The blade meets no resistance.
I lean close, whisper in Burke's ear. "You made the mistake, old woman. You mistake being human for being weak. I will always protect those I love. Always."
I watch the surprise bloom and fade in dead eyes, watch life drain away. I keep pressure on the knife until I feel the last flutter of her heart, watch as her chest slows and caves with the expiration of her last breath.
When I withdraw the knife, the copper smell of her blood mingles with the waste released from a body already beginning to decay.
It is the smell of victory. The knife is suddenly weightless in my hand.
The amulet begins to glow again, but this time, for a different reason. I understand the message. My time is almost up.
Once again, instinct tells me what to do. I cup the charm in my hands. The room fades as my vision blurs. Night descends. Then, smoke.
An odor. Incense. A sound. The song of the witches.
I blink and I'm back.
The witches' song stops. They gather round me, eager to know what happened, what the journey was like.
Words don't come. It's as if the last ten minutes belonged to someone else. When I replay it in my head, there is no feeling except one-
relief. That I'm back. That Burke is dead. That Sophie and I are safe.
Susan frowns. "Are you all right?"
I shake my head, not in response, but in an attempt to clear it. "I think so."
Min takes the knife gently from my hand. Until that moment, I didn 't realize I was still holding it. Burke's blood stains the blade. "She's dead?"
"Yes."
By my hand. I glance down. No blood there.
I look up and see how much the three want details. Their faces shine with excitement. It was as much their journey as it was mine. They deserve to be told how their magic worked.
I can't do it. Not now. My thoughts and feelings center on only one thing-I have to tell Sophie that her sister is dead.
When I leave them, it is with thanks for their help and a promise to be back. The concern for me in their eyes is like a mantle that sits heavy on my shoulders all the way home.