“He’s very upset, Sa’han,” Quen choked out, then touched his mouth to have his fingers come away red with blood. “That’s not good.”

“Where!” Trent asked again, and Quen eyed him with a hot, fervent gaze.

“If we knew that, he wouldn’t have to follow.” Quen winced as he got his legs straight and tried to get up. “Ahhhhh, that’s going to hurt tomorrow.”

Trent’s exhalation was loud as he stood, arm down to help Quen stand as he looked at me. “Did you call them?” he asked me.

“No.” I turned to leave, needing to dodge around Al. “Don’t you have to go to work or something?” I said bitterly. The girls weren’t in any danger, but it still pissed me off.

“Uh ...” Al held up a finger in thought, but his confusion was coated with guilt.

“Whatever.” Was it zero for the switchboard, or one? I thought, not remembering in my panic.

I reached for the phone. Pain ripped through me, hard and fast. Gasping, I fell, the shallow stairs cutting into me as I landed. My breath came out of me in a pained groan. Eyes wide in agony, I could do nothing as my hand shook on the upper tile floor, outstretched for the phone and cramping as fire burned along my long muscles.

It was a curse, the same smothering black that had found me on the West Coast, now rolling over me with the unstoppable strength of waves against a cliff. A bright red seeped from a cut on my hand, the sharp throb hardly noticed over the spike driving through my head with each panicked pulse of my heart. The curse dove deep, the way easy for having been in me before. It was stronger, more focused, and I took a gasping breath, feeling it tear me.

“Rachel?” I heard Trent call, and my eyes found Al.

He was down as well, eyes open and glazed as he fought the same thing. Synchronized to the beat of ancient drums, we both clenched as the curse dug into our souls and began to pull.

“Trent ... ,” I tried to shout, but it came out in a whisper. My eyes opened, finding the clock in the kitchen. Sundown. This was the elves.

My teeth clenched. “No,” I gasped, pulling my knees forward and inching toward Al. I might be able to fight this off, but Al ... Al had no escape. “Not. Al!” I groaned, trying to get up the two stairs between us. My hand shook as it stretched out. Grasping. Reaching. I could not ... breathe!

“No!” I said again, dragging myself forward until I finally touched his hand.

My breath came in cleanly, and I dove into his mind, finding the toehold the elves’ curse had. Not him! I said once more, wedging the curse out of him with the clear, pure energy from the mystics.