I took one shaky step forward and stumbled on the next. The adrenaline that had been pumping through me since I'd been saved left me, and I slumped to the floor.

Dean caught me before I hit and slid his arm around my waist to pull me tight against him. "You're not okay."

"I just need a minute." I leaned heavily against him. But I could no longer think clearly. White hot pain filled my head.

He watched me for a moment and then looked at Wendy and Mildred. "If we're going to make a run for it, Colina needs time to get her strength back. We'll head for the vacant part of the hospital and hold up until Colina gets a chance to catch her breath, and then we'll make a break for it as soon as it gets dark. Wendy, will you be able to sense a hospital posse heading our way?"

"I think so," Wendy said.

"Then that's the game plan. Any objections?"

There were none.

Dean continued, "We should split up. It'll look suspicious if we all head down the halls together. It's between meals, so unless they're looking specifically for us, we're just patients taking a casual stroll down the halls. No one should look twice at us. I mean, why would they?"

Mildred said, "That all changes when they find the doctor's body."

Wendy stepped in front of me. "We'll meet in the room where we got the Ouija board. I'll go with Mildred and show her the way."

I managed to nod and regretted the motion as a wave of pain flashed across my temples. I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, Mildred and Wendy were gone.

"Ready?" Dean wrapped his arm around me and shouldering most of my weight. He started moving us both forward. My shirt rode up, and I could feel the warmth of his fingers against my skin.

I clung to him, struggling not to weep in his arms. I wanted someone to comfort me. I forced back all the fear and horror of what happened to me and tried to focus on the hallway in front of me.

We made our way slowly through the halls, passing both patients and staff, but no one tried to stop us. It was only at night that the place went on lockdown. As long as we looked "normal," no one would bother us. But like Mildred said, all that would change when they found the doctor's body.

We rounded a corner and came face-to-face with Andrew.

He smiled. "Colina, I haven't seen you in the common room. Do you want to go play a game of checkers?"

"Not now, Andrew," Dean answered.

"What's wrong?" Andrew took a step closer. His eyes went wide as he took in my weak stature. Obviously concerned, he asked, "What happened?"

You want to know what happened? I wanted to scream at him. Angry, , for a blissful moment I forgot my injuries.

I pushed myself away from Dean and knocked Andrew against the wall. "Did you know the killer was inside Nurse Harrington?"

Andrew looked scared. "What are you—"

"You were around her so much. How could you be so close to that psycho without sensing him inside her?" I grabbed the front of his sweatshirt and bunched the material in my hands. I pulled Andrew forward and then shoved him hard against the wall.

"I swear I didn't! I don't know anything." He was getting hysterical.

"I want the truth! Are you working with him? Are you helping him murder these people?"

"I'm not! I'm not!" Andrew was now crying.

"Colina." Dean clamped a hand on my shoulder and pulled me back. I reluctantly let go of Andrew's shirt.

Andrew's hands rose in surrender. "I liked Nurse Harrington. She was always nice to me. I...I knew something wasn't right. But I didn't want to know. I didn't want to get involved!"

"You felt something, and you didn't warn anyone? You didn't warn me?" At that moment, I wanted to kill him. I would have gone for him again if Dean hadn't dragged me back.

Andrew sobbed. "I thought I was imagining it. I often see and hear things that aren't real. It's usually all in my mind. I swear, if I'd thought I could stop people from getting hurt, I would have." Andrew shrank from my glare, still crying.

Dean snapped, "Cool it. There's a nurse at the other end of the hall talking to an orderly."

I saw the two white uniforms deep in conversation. They hadn't noticed us yet.

"Keep this up and they'll lock us all up. Is that what you want?" Dean hissed at me.

"No." I forced my anger back and looked Andrew dead in the eye. "Why couldn't you trust me? Why didn't you just tell me and let me decide whether or not to worry?"

"I didn't want to know. I'm so sorry." Andrew reached for my hand.

At the contact, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he seized. After a few moments, he seemed to come back to his senses.

He slowly straightened, but when he looked at me, fear filled his face.

What did he see? Why is he looking at me like that?

Dean let go and gave me a gentle shove. "Start walking. They're looking our way." When I continued to stare at Andrew, Dean growled. "Colina, get moving!"

I stumbled forward.

Once down the hall and around the corner, Dean put his arm back around me. "I don't believe Andrew purposefully helped that madman."

My anger had deserted me. In its place, exhaustion and pain flowed back into my limbs. "He didn't warn us. That's as good as helping the killer."

"He was too afraid." Dean lowered his voice. "Colina, how long did you suspect Weatherton was inside of me?" He looked more resigned than upset.

"I thought it might be you, but I suspected everyone."

"I can't blame you," he said, but he sounded hurt. "I probably would have done the same thing. I've been thinking about it. No one in here is equipped to handle this kind of thing. I should call my mom once we're gone from this place. She can contact our guild, and they'll come and help out."

He paused. "That is, if the hospital will take help from death dealers. My guild, the Garmr, has always been one of the most respected death dealer guilds. We aren't as high and mighty as the Phoenix Guild or as creepy as the Dragon Guild. My mom was telling me how things have changed while I've been away. I know our kind has always been on the fringe, but she says it's gotten really bad. Death dealers are scattered and being driven from their homes. Guilds have been fractured. Some people are injured and unable to find help or sanctuary. Dozens have been killed."

He paused for a moment, looking off into space with distant worry. "I have to get back to my guild, my family. I need to be there to protect them. They'll be calling all the able-bodied fighters to protect the homestead. I couldn't live with myself if something happened, and I wasn't there to help."

I hadn't heard him speak about his people this way before, so passionately, hoping to help.

He continued, "My mom said it all started with some girl who raised zombie-like creatures and a demon. This girl apparently has powers that no one has seen before. She started all this trouble."

His words left me speechless. Dean didn't know who I really was or what I was capable of. How could he not know? I took a moment to think. He hadn't been able to comprehend what happened around him until I saved him from drowning in the bathtub, so he might not have understood Luke and our conversations about my powers.

What will happen when he finds out? What will he think of me when he realizes the evil I unleashed? When he learns I'm the source of his family's problems?

Dean asked, "Has your guild had a lot of issues?" He didn't wait for me to answer. "Can you imagine being able to raise the dead? Zombies! I would never have thought such a thing was possible. Mom said that all the guilds are hunting this girl, and for good reason. She's made it to the top of the death dealers' most wanted list."

What would it be like to look into the face of the guy I loved and see him looking back at me with fear and disgust? It wouldn't be Luke who hated me, I reminded myself. It would be Dean. Luke knew all my secrets and hadn't stopped loving me. But if Dean knew who I really was, would he turn me over to his guild? How much could I trust him?

We stopped, and Dean sent me a questioning glance. I'd been too silent for too long. I tried to put distance between myself and the story. "No, I can't imagine someone raising zombies. It sounds like wild rumors. Are you sure it's even true?"

"It's true. Mom said word about the zombies has spread like wildfire."

I couldn't help myself and asked the one question that had been haunting me. "What do they plan to do with her when they find her?"

"Most of the guilds are calling for her head. I don't think she'll have a chance to go to trial. My guess is that a mob will kill the girl on sight. Someone will see that she pays for her crimes against our kind."

He pulled me close, and we started moving again.

I tried not to pull away defensively, despite the fear and guilt that threatened to overwhelm me. If Dean and his guild ever found out that I was the zombie-raising, demon-releasing girl, the very hands now wrapped around me might kill me.

There was no safe place for me. When I got out of here, I'd still be hunted.

I'd still be forced to run.

* * *

We had to backtrack a half-dozen times. It took me a few tries to find my way to the vacant part of the hospital. Suddenly, all the hallways looked alike. I could have sworn a few of them had shifted. I felt it again, the sensation of the walls expanding and retracting. It's like this place is breathing.

I pointed to my left. "I know it's that way. It has to be that way." I shook my head and winced at the pain.

Dean stopped and peered into my face. "What is it?"

"This headache is bad. I can barely think."

"Not surprising, considering the volts of electricity that raced through your head. It was a close call." He lowered his voice. "I thought for a second there that we were going to be too late."

"You were worried about me?" I joked and then felt uncomfortable as those intense blue eyes swung my way.

"I was terrified. You were in danger. I don't think I've ever been so scared."

The way he looked at me made my heart beat faster. "Dean..." His name caught in the back of my throat.

He moved forward, and for a moment, I thought he meant to kiss me. Instead, he paused and took a step back.

"I know you're in love with Luke." When I didn't say anything, he coughed and cleared his throat. "I worry about you. About your safety." He looked uncomfortable. "If we don't make it out of here alive..."

I was touched that he seemed as concerned for me as he was for his family and guild.

"We'll make it."

"You sure about that?"

I felt mentally exhausted, in need of comfort. It would be so easy to put my head on his shoulder and feel those strong arms wrap around me.

But this wasn't Luke, who knew what I really was. He'd seen the terrible, reckless things I'd done and still loved me. The world might think of me as a monster, but Luke didn't.

How would Dean react if my secrets came out? I knew Dean cared about me, but that could all change. If he knew I was the reason his people were being hunted and killed, his feelings would quickly change. And then I'd be facing a new enemy. I didn't want to see those blue eyes stare at me with hate instead of compassion.

I forced a smile. "I've made it out of worse situations."

He smiled back. "Now that's hard to believe."

I wanted to tell him everything I'd been through, all the awful situations that I'd found myself in since I first stepped into the magic shop.

But I couldn't.

* * *

It was dark in the empty wing of the hospital, but it wasn't the pitch-black we'd encountered last night. Rays of light shone through open doors and cracks between the bricks in the walls.

We walked into the room marked with a crescent moon.

Dean looked around at the scattered equipment and rotting ceiling. "Lovely."

"You should see the room that has walls painted in blood," Wendy said, standing by the windows. She and Mildred had arrived before us.

"I can imagine. This guy's a real piece of work," Dean said.

Wendy nodded.

Mildred rocked back and forth with her hands clasped behind her. She seemed uneasy.

"Mildred, what's wrong?" I asked.

She didn't look at me. Instead, she cocked her head, as if listening to something far off in the distance. "I don't like it in here.".

I held my breath and listened. There were no ghostly whispers or sounds of heartbeats. Whatever spooked her had to be something only she could hear.

Dean spoke up. "Maybe we should arm ourselves. Let's look for things to use against Weatherton if he shows up."

At hearing Weatherton's name, anger rose inside me. as did the white-hot pain, throbbing at my temples. I felt weak and bruised. I walked over to a relatively clean section of wall and slid down it until I was sitting on the floor.

"Mildred, do you want to come scavenge for weapons with me?" Dean asked.

"I don't need a weapon, boy." She whipped out a hammer. I could see dried, crusted blood on the metal head.

"Is that...?" I couldn't get the words out.

She grinned. "I got it from that room with the pentagram." She swung the hammer back and forth. "I know it works. It's killed once already. That madman comes anywhere near me, I'll"—she turned and brought the hammer down hard against the surface of a table— "bash his brains in!"

I cringed as the loud bang echoed around the room and inside my skull. I wasn't sure at that moment who I was more afraid of—Weatherton or hammer-wielding Mildred.

Dean didn't seem fazed by Mildred's outburst. He turned and said calmly to Wendy, "How about it? I could use your help."

Wendy paled at the request. There was something about Dean that really disturbed Wendy, and she wasn't doing a very good job of hiding her discomfort at the idea of being alone with him. She looked down at her shoes.

I thought for sure she was going to refuse him.

She surprised me when she finally said in a trembling voice, "I'll come."

Dean walked across the room to me.

I looked up. "Be careful."

I expected him to give me a nod or a smile and head out the door. Instead, he dragged me to my feet and planted his lips on mine.

I could have told anyone who asked that the kiss had shocked me, and I had frozen with surprise. I could have explained to them that I didn't initiate that kiss, and it wasn't my fault that happened.

All of that would have been true—if I had pushed Dean away.

But I didn't. Instead, I pulled him closer and kissed him back.

I was no longer thinking, just reacting. Heat rose inside me, and I forgot the pain and the bruises. Everything faded away. My world narrowed until it was just the two of us. My breath matched his. I felt his heart pounding wildly in his chest under my palm, matching my racing pulse beat for beat. For the briefest moment, we were melting into each other, and I was a part of him. I lost myself within that kiss.

And then he pulled away. The desire to pull him back and feel his lips on mine again was so strong that I almost cried out his name.

But before I could, reality came crashing back. Luke.

I fell back against the wall, buzzing with confusion and guilt. I looked at Dean. Those blue eyes stared back at me, shining full of need and want. I opened my mouth to say something but couldn't speak. We stood staring at each other for several heartbeats before I shook my head and mouthed, "I can't."

I watched those eyes fill with pain. I watched them look away. And I wondered how just one kiss could turn my world upside down.

* * *

Time passed after Wendy and Dean left. I must have closed my eyes and dozed off, because a loud boom startled me into blinking awake. I forced myself to my feet and had a moment of confusion as I tried to get my bearings.

Mildred stood at the door, her body tense and the hammer raised high.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

She gestured toward the window. "Thunder. The storm is worse."

"Have they been gone long?"

"Not too long. But if they don't come back soon, we might have to start worrying,"

The pain in my head had eased. I made my way across the room. Outside, dark clouds filled the sky. The rain came down in sheets. Wind blew the trees back and forth like matchsticks. I hadn't seen a storm like this since Luke and I had been running for our lives across open fields.

At the thought, a Shakespearean saying I'd learned in school popped into my head. By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.

The words had barely crossed my mind when Wendy and Dean raced through the door.

"Is it Weatherton?" I asked.

Dean was breathing hard. "I have no idea what's going on." He gestured at Wendy. "She went into some kind of trance. Did that funky speaking thing she does. I couldn't understand anything she said. When she came out of it, she just took off!"

Dean's shirt was torn. He had a long, jagged piece of glass in one hand and the material of his shirt was wrapped at its base, protecting the flesh of his palm.

Wendy held a metal pipe.

"Wendy, what is it?"

Wendy didn't say a word. Instead, she walked to the closest window and put her hand on the pane of glass. "Evil. It's out there."

"Is it Weatherton?" I had to know.

She looked over at me but didn't answer.

"Do you hear that?" Dean went to the doorway and leaned out into the hall. "Someone's coming. We have to make a run for it."

Dean ran to a window and tried to open it. But it didn't budge. He let go of his glass weapon to use both hands, but it still wouldn't move an inch. Cursing, he moved on to the next window.

He paused for a second to peer through the glass. "I can see a huge puddle at the base of the fence. It has to have shorted out by now!"

I joined Wendy, who stared out into the rain. I looked out through the dirt-streaked glass and wondered what she saw.

"Wendy, what's out there?" A chill ran down my spine. I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the answer.

Wendy whispered, "By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes." She looked at me with glassy eyes. "You weren't wrong, Colina. Pure evil is out there, and it has come for you."

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. For some reason, Wendy's confirmation of my fears made them grow tenfold. I struggled to push down the surge of adrenaline that pushed my thoughts toward panic.

Dean finally wrenched open a window. Rain spilled across the sill onto the floor.

The sound of a wolf floated across the wind, and with it came a small measure of hope.

The spirit animals the old god had bestowed on me. Maybe they would help protect me and my friends from whatever was out there.

Another howl, this time closer. Over it I heard loud voices and footsteps in the hallway.

Despite whatever waited for us out there, we had little choice but to head toward it. If we stayed, we would be caught and probably imprisoned. There were three dead bodies that the staff would eventually find, and they would blame us for those deaths. Dean and I were known death dealers—our kind both hated and hunted, now more than ever because of the horror I'd unleashed. People wouldn't be rational or reasonable. They would just be looking for someone to blame.

Before I could react, Mildred pushed me aside and hopped out the window. Thankfully, we were on the first level, which meant the window wasn't too high off the ground. Wendy stood frozen next to me. I couldn't blame her for being reluctant, but staying and getting caught wasn't an option. I shoved her forward. She fell against the sill, then put one leg over. The other followed. She slowly slid outside.

Dean was behind me. "You're next."

"There's something out there. I can feel it." I paused halfway out the window, frozen in fear.

Dean's hands were on my back. "So can I, but we'll have to take our chances. Get out the window and just start running. Don't look back. Don't wait for anyone. Just head straight for the fence. I'll see if I can buy you some time."

I spun around. "I'm not going without you!"

He gripped my hand. "I promise I'll be right behind you. Now get moving!"

He let go of me, and I reluctantly went out the window. I stood outside, my feet in the mud. The rain was really coming down. Lightning lit up the sky, and a few seconds later a crack of thunder boomed overhead. I turned and headed for the fence at a full sprint.

My hair whipped across my face. Rain soaked my clothes and plastered them against my body. Howls drifted on the wind. Another bolt of lightning struck with a simultaneous an explosion of thunder, this time close by.

I lost track of Wendy and Mildred in the storm. The rain was coming down in sheets, and I could barely see the ground in front of me.

I heard a noise and whipped my head around. I could make out a dark form behind me. Dean had escaped. We had to make it to the fence and chance climbing the wet metal during the thunderstorm.

A strong blast of wind threw me forward. I skidded and lost my balance on the slippery grass, but before I hit the ground, strong arms reached out and grabbed me from behind.

"Dean, be careful. The grass is slick as ice." I turned, expecting to see a pair of deep, blue eyes. Instead, my stomach coiled in horror as I found myself staring into the face of a killer.

Nurse Harrington gave me a wicked smirk as Weatherton's voice growled, "Miss me?"

Without thinking, I curled my hand into a fist and slugged Weatherton in the face. Whatever he was expecting, that wasn't it. His grip loosened, and he reeled back. That was all the encouragement I needed.

I scrambled away from him. My punch didn't daze Weatherton for long, and he followed me. I tripped, landing in the mud, and lost the slim advantage I had gained.

I got back to my feet before he could reach me. As I moved, a blue light rippled across my arms and down my fingers. It was only there for a second before it vanished. It disappeared, and a mighty growl ripped through the air behind me. A large gray shadow flashed out of the trees, heading straight for Weatherton.

He saw it coming and reacted faster than I would have thought possible. He raised his hands, shouting out a string of words in Latin. I recognized him calling on his death dealer magic for banshees. Lights formed around his hands and then shot into the air.

Within the lights, I saw faces. Too many to count. Their expressions twisted with screams of anguish. A chorus of bone-chilling screeches filled the air, accompanied by the sound of hearts beating.

His banshees seemed larger—and I guessed they were more powerful—than any I had seen before.

The gray shadow hit the wall of banshees with an explosion of blue sparks, followed by a loud cry of an animal howling in pain. The shadow coalesced into the shape of a large wolf, only visible for an instant before it flashed back into motion. Ghostly hands grabbed at it from every side, banshee fingers shaped like blades cutting off chunks of the wolf shadow. In seconds, there wasn't enough left of the shadow to form a shape, and it faded into the rain, unable to hold its form.

No, no, no! That spirit pack was the only hope I'd had...

Without warning, a dozen more gray shadows whizzed by me, speeding toward the banshees. The wall of evil glided back and forth in the air, moving in sync like a school of fish. Then they scattered, each banshee darting off in a different direction. Where each banshee went, one of my spirit pack followed.

Growls mingled with the sounds of teeth gnashing and tearing. As the pack overtook the banshees, ethereal claws meeting the strangely morphing forms of Weatherton's victims. Spirit arms became long, ghostly, stabbing blades. The spirits fought with desperation, forced to stand for the man who had tortured them, killed them, and then tortured them some more.

The spirit animals tore into them, shredding with speed and ferocity, but in doing so they took horrible wounds to their own shadowy bodies.

Innocent victims of Weatherton's evil made up both sides in this battle. I hoped the destruction of the spirits—animals and banshees alike—would not be as final as it seemed. Hot tears poured down my face, burning my cheeks before mixing with the rain.

The thin, possessed body of Nurse Harrington sat in the middle of it all, unfazed by the chaos. Weatherton's twisted smile slashed across her face, and malevolent joy shone from her eyes.

A thought struck me. I can burn him like I burned Macaven's banshees.

With a deep breath, I summoned the fire within me. It flashed up from my core, orange and yellow flames twisting up from the very depths of me. The fire rose, skimming across my flesh, spiraling out along my limbs. I was burning hot and bright. Too bright. If I didn't send the fire out soon, it would consume me.

I raised my hands, more than ready to see Weatherton die for his sins.

Unexpectedly, a white-hot flash of pain ripped through my skull. I cried out and fell to my knees. My fire shot out in a burst of wild orange sparks all around me and then went out. It had taken all the strength I had to call up the fire, but I couldn't keep it burning. I must have still been feeling the effects of the electric shock.

I was too weak to fight. Too weak to protect myself.

Weatherton realized what was happening and laughed. He raised his hands and aimed a ball of orange-red flame toward me. I knew that at any second, I was going to die, consumed by the same type of magic I'd tried to kill him with. I only had seconds left.

And in those seconds, what I wanted most in the world was another moment with Luke. Someone cried out my name, and a body rushed forward. Dean leaped in front of me, and the ball of fire hit him dead center and exploded.

"Dean!" I screamed. I covered my face with my hands. I can't lose Dean. I can't lose Luke. I can't lose anyone else I care about, not again. I didn't want to see Dean's body on the ground, scorched beyond recognition.

An unearthly sound ripped through the air, and I peered through my fingers.

What I saw shocked me to the core.

Dean stood only a few feet away, alive, and unharmed.

"Wha—Dean!"

He turned and looked at me. But his eyes were no longer blue. They weren't dark either. Instead, they glowed an unnatural yellow. An accompanying yellow light shone all around his body.

I rose to my feet. "Dean? Dean, are you okay?" I took a step forward before I realized he didn't seem to recognize me.

Whatever I was looking at was no longer Dean.

Weatherton flung another ball of fire that hit him. It exploded into a burst of red-and-yellow sparks. And yet, Dean didn't fall back. He didn't even move. He wasn't damaged at all by the flames.

When the sparks died down, the glow around Dean seemed to grow. It expanded until it was a large cloud around him. Dean raised his head and let out a bloodcurdling yell.

Weatherton's face moved from glee to shock, all of his attention focused on Dean.

"What's happening?" a voice asked over the maelstrom.

I spun around. Andrew had spoken. He wasn't alone. A crowd of staff and patients huddled by the building's entrance, watching us.

Andrew started toward me, concerned. "Are you okay?"

Andrew only took one step before Dean moved toward him, rushing forward faster than was humanly possible. He tackled Andrew, and the two of them flew through the air, landing in a tangle of limbs on the ground. Then Dean was on top of Andrew, his fists raining down faster and harder.

Andrew cried out for help but soon fell silent.

"No!" I screamed, moving toward them.

But I was too late. Andrew would not be getting up. His neck twisted at an unnatural angle. One of his eyes bulged, and I could see that a part of his skull had been torn away. As I watched, his brain slowly slid onto the grass.

I heard screams as the watching crowd broke and ran, fleeing back into the protection of the hospital. The smell of blood filled the air, and I didn't blame them for running.

Bile rolled in my belly. I turned and vomited. When I finally righted myself, I realized in horror that Dean was on his feet again, heading toward Wendy.

She watched Dean coming toward her, but she didn't run. Her eyes narrowed, looking straight at him, and her expression became one of pure concentration. For a brief moment, Dean stopped. His hands went to his head, and he wobbled as if he might fall. But then another of Weatherton's fireballs exploded against him. When the flames vanished, Dean was moving again.

I watched helplessly as he reached Wendy and struck her in the stomach. Wendy went flying a good ten feet in the air before she came crashing down into the mud. She lay on the ground, motionless.

"Stop it!" I screamed. I ran to her side, but by the time I got there, Dean had moved away. I knelt down beside her, holding my breath. It wasn't until I heard a soft moan that I started to breathe again. I wept in relief.

There was a loud crash, and lightning struck the trees close by. I looked over to see Mildred standing in the rain. Her wet, white hair flew around her face, whipped back and forth by the wind. With her hands raised, she shouted a string of nonsensical words.

Dean heading directly toward her.

"Not another step, boy. Not if you know what's good for you," she yelled over the wind.

Dean continued.

"Don't you know your Sun Tzu? Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt." Mildred danced in a circle, and a bolt of lightning flashed through the sky and hit the ground a few feet away from Dean.

It was only then that I grasped the situation—Mildred controlled the lightning. Some healers could command electricity, but I'd never seen or heard of anyone controlling the bolts of lightning from a storm. Mildred wasn't supposed to be so powerful—I'd heard nurses talking about how limited her magic was. But she laughed, waving her hands in the air dramatically as lightning rained down around Dean.

The lightning didn't stop him, though. He rushed and was a stone's throw away from her when a bolt finally hit him.

I expected him to drop to the ground, but he kept moving. The bolt of the lightning seemed to bounce off him. It separated out into sparks that zigged and zagged across the yard until they finally crashed into the trees and building.

He deflected more lightning. And it hit the metal fence and exploded against the chain-link, striking the guard house and a gas barbecue the orderlies sometimes used. The gas inside the barbeque exploded, knocking the guard house flat and bending the tall fence almost to the ground.

Mildred's magic was no more successful in stopping Dean than Weatherton's had been. Just as he was about to reach Mildred, she abruptly disappeared and reappeared a second later on the other side of the lawn.

She laughed and shouted across the grass at Dean, "Ha, ha, you can't catch me!"

"Enough!" Weatherton stood over Andrew's dead body. Blood dripped down his hands and arms, and I watched in horror as he offered Andrew's still-beating heart to the sky.

Weatherton chanted in a language I'd heard before, the same language I'd heard in my visions and when I'd stood before the old gods. He lowered the heart and brought it to his mouth.

Then he took a bite, and blood gushed out of his mouth and down his chin.

The sound of a heart beating filled the air. It grew so loud I could feel it vibrating against my skin. I tried desperately to cover my ears.

Dean didn't seem bothered. He headed for Weatherton.

Weatherton raised his hands and screamed. Golden energy swirled around his hands, shooting from his fingertips in blazing streams of light. The burst of energy hit Dean squarely in the chest and exploded all around him.

Beams of light shot off in all directions like fireworks. They whizzed toward me, and I threw myself to the ground.

Shocked, I stared at Dean, unaffected by the bursts of light, as he reached Weatherton faster than should have been possible.

He grabbed Nurse Harrington by the shoulders and without the slightest appearance of strain ripped her to pieces. A mist of blood and chunks of flesh flew into the air as Dean tore away her arms, her head, and random pieces of her body while she continued to stand, like some grotesque scarecrow, in the center of a whirlwind of destruction.

I closed my eyes, unable to stomach the gruesome sight.

After a moment, there was nothing but silence.

I opened my eyes. What was left of Nurse Harrington's body lay on the ground. Guts and organs and so much blood.

I looked around for Dean. And then I heard footsteps behind me. I spun around and found him standing within arm's reach. I scrambled to my feet, terrified.

Those bizarre yellow eyes glared at me from a face covered in blood. The rain had washed some of it away, but much of it had matted his hair and soaked his clothes. I looked into those eyes and realized that there was no hatred in there. No emotion. His eyes were empty and soulless.

"Dean," I whispered. "Dean, can you hear me?"

Dean took a step forward. I fell back.

"Dean, it's Colina. Don't do this," I pleaded. "You don't want to hurt me. For the Goddess' sake, stop!"

Dean slowed, his movements jerky. The expressionless mask slipped from his face, replaced with confusion. He stumbled to a stop, looking around as if waking from a dream.

He spent a few seconds studying his bloody hands before looking back at me. The yellow glow faded from his eyes until the familiar blue stared back at me.

"Colina?" He crumpled to the ground.

*****