For the second time that night, Swift was knocked back, spinning to the earth and away from me. As the terrible talons pulled away, my chest felt as though it had caught fire. Through a haze of intense pain and adrenaline, I half imagined Charlie had once more risen to my aid—but, no. The commissioner was alone, struggling to his feet, and the great hound lay where he had been skewered, barely breathing.

BANG!

Swift hit the ground again, and my eyes traced their way to the figure marching across the clearing, a pistol fixed steadily on the commissioner. My vision swam, but there was the bulging coat, the draping scarf, and that ridiculous knit cap.

“You were right, Miss Rook,” called Jackaby. “There are a lot of ways that people use lead.”

My chest throbbed with hot pain, and my vision was darkening, but I smiled up at the detective.

“I would still prefer to have done the thing properly, with a solid coat of the stuff,” he continued, his voice so casual he might have been discussing afternoon tea, “but given the circumstances, a few bullets should slow him down long enough to see the job done.” He stood directly over the commissioner, who was writhing on the ground, and pulled a small leather volume from his coat. He fixed the weapon on Swift’s chest as he read aloud.

“ ‘The life of a creature is in the blood . . . It is the blood that maketh atonement for the soul.’ Leviticus, seventeen.”

Swift snarled. The pistol rang out a third time, and then the forest went quiet as a warm blanket of blackness swept over me.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Flickering light and the aroma of smoke dragged me by slow inches back into wakefulness. I attempted to sit up, wincing against the pain in my chest. My long coat, which had been draped across me like a blanket, slid away, and the cold air snapped me back to reality. I was still in the forest. I looked down to find Jenny’s warm shirtwaist had been removed, and Jackaby’s scarf had been wrapped around my torso like a long, clumsy bandage. Startled, I instinctively reached up to cover myself, and my chest seized with the pain of the sudden motion. I caught my breath and very slowly brushed my fingers over the scarf, tenderly exploring the wound on my chest.