TWENTY-FOUR
In the serials, the hero always does something clever. He swings in on a rope and grabs the girl, swinging away and leaving the dreaded pirate captain cursing, or he figures out a way to turn the villains against one another, allowing him time to rescue his friends with little bloodshed. Carter's cross, do I wish this was one of those tales.
I didn't feel clever or quick. I felt trapped. My best friend and his kid were about to be sacrificed to a glowing rock. If I didn't act they'd be dead, and very soon. I breathed deeply, inhaling the heavy air, feeling it enter my lungs, and trying to let it calm me.
The thought of Wensem's body aflame, clutching his son as they burned on Cybill's altar, was too much. Peter Black forced my hand and I had one option.
I rose.
My knee and
