“You see, there’s a particular bit of metal that I need help dealing with,” Clementine said. “And there’s someone here with just the right kind of magic to help me and my boys handle it.”

As soon as she said the word metal, my heart clenched in my chest. I knew exactly what kind of magic she was talking about—and exactly who had it.

“Owen Grayson,” Clementine called out in a booming voice. “Come on down.”

Chapter 9

9

For a moment, I closed my eyes again. The night just kept getting better and better. First, Jillian had been murdered, then Clementine and her crew had taken everyone hostage, and now this.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd, and folks turned to stare at Owen, who was just as shocked by the giant’s announcement as everyone else. But Owen’s surprise quickly turned to wariness. He glanced at Phillip and Finn, but the other two men shrugged, their own faces tight with concern. They didn’t know what Clementine wanted with him any more than I did, but we all knew it couldn’t be anything good.

“Ah, come on, now, Mr. Grayson,” Clementine said. “I see you over there. Don’t be shy. Get to your feet and step up on here.”

She grinned and pointed her gun at the woman sitting closest to her. “Or I’ll shoot this pretty lady in the face.”

The woman gasped and ducked her head, as if that would somehow help her magically melt into the floor and get away from the giant and her gun.

“Right now, if you please, Mr. Grayson,” Clementine continued. “Or a lot of people are going to get covered in a whole lot of blood. Blowback is a bitch, especially at close range like this. Not to mention the damage the bullets themselves will do. Why, this lady’s head will probably explode like a ripe watermelon dropped on a rock—splat. And who knows where the bullets will go from there? Why, they could clip two or three more folks before they finally stop.”

There was nothing Owen could do, no way he could possibly stop the giant from pulling the trigger except by obeying her. Like Clementine had said before, she and her boys had already taken out the Spider. So what was to stop them from murdering everyone else?

Owen climbed to his feet and slowly shuffled toward the front of the room, picking his way through the seated hostages. The faint tap-tap-tap of his wing tips on the floor sounded like nails being driving into a coffin. Clementine might want him alive right now, but she’d kill him the second she didn’t need him anymore.

Owen finally stopped in front of Clementine, his violet eyes practically glowing with anger.