Like the power they were calling called to me too. I wanted to stand and go to them, to lie down in the middle of their circle and let that magic wash over my naked skin, let it burn through me in a cleansing I wanted like nothing else. I ached for it.

A hand clamped on my ankle, and I shook Crash off, dragging myself forward as the chanting grew louder. And with the chanting came waves of that power that made me catch my breath as though I were being dunked in a not-unpleasant bath of hot and cold water. My skin prickled and danced with the strength of it.

I was right at the edge of their circle, tucked in behind the single gravestone big enough to hide me. Robert stood beside me, and I was fairly certain they lacked the ghost-seeing ability. That or they were so focused, they just hadn’t noticed him. I closed my eyes for a quick second and then leaned out around the stone to get a good look at things.

Eric was trussed up in the middle, and the bigfoot was staring in my direction. Which meant he saw me. His eyes immediately flushed with tears.

The three around him were not what I’d expected.

The first was a man with the palest of skins, so white that his hair and eyes were white too. An albino.

The second was also a man, but his skin was as dark as the night around him.

It was the third figure who shocked the crap out of me. Seriously, I had to clamp my legs together, so I didn’t let out a stomach-clenching toot.

Hattie—Gran’s best friend, sweet old lady, wonderful person my whole life—led the chanting in a long, flowing dress, her hands covered in rings and bracelets, the gray poof of her hair bobbing with her moves. Her body moved stiffly, but there was no hesitation as she chanted through the litany that would bring the spell to fruition.

My gran’s best friend was at the center of this? She wanted to kill Eric? Suddenly the smell of dead fish at Crash’s made sense. It wasn’t from Feish being hurt; it was from the stink of Hattie’s canning.

Someone brushed past me and in my shock, I didn’t move.

More accurately, Crash brushed past me.

The chanting slowed and I froze in place as he stepped out into the circle. What the hell was he doing? No, scratch that, I knew exactly what he was doing.

“Hattie,” Crash said with a soft venom that did nothing to make him less scary. “You had your men attack me.”

“Oh, lovely boy,” she crooned. “I need that knife you were making. I thought you were hiding it from me.”

Mind blown, I sat there in a bit of a daze. He was going to give it to her.