“Come on. We have to get out of here.”
“Wait,” Lenoir said.
“There’s no time.”
She turned slightly and, with one swift thrust of her leg, kicked his injured shin. He released her shoulder, dropped the torch, and howled in agony, falling to his good knee.
“I’m really sorry, James, but I think we’ve finally arrived at our destination.”
“Lenoir, what the hell are you doing? Are you crazy?” he asked through struggling breaths.
She bent down and grabbed his face with an icy hand. Her fingernails dug into his jaw, drawing small traces of blood.
“Maybe,” she answered. “I recently bought a book online from an antique store in Seattle. The pages were loaded with urban legends, hexes, and incantations for things you couldn’t imagine. That’s not something a normal person would purchase, right?
