Part 82 (1/2)

Claire and Diana together grabbed Lance as he surged forward.

”Wardrobe-to-wardrobe connection?” Diana asked, brow furrowed, curiosity momentarily flattening the peaks of other emotions.

”Seems like.”

”I think that fulfills my part in this foolishness, cat. I have explained, I have gloated, now I will have what I want.”

The sound of a struggle.

”A valiant attempt, Dean. But you are mine.”

”I don't think so, b.i.t.c.h!”

Diana's eyes widened as her head snapped around toward her sister. ”Claire!”

”Lance .. .” Claire yanked him free of Diana's grip, her fingers dimpling his arm. Yanked him around to face her. ”. . . can you stop Meryat?”

He pulled a roll of ancient linen out of his right front pocket with his free hand. ”Yes!”

”Then go!”

Diana grabbed too late as Lance raced for the storefront, so she grabbed her sister's shoulder instead. ”Claire, that isn't where he came in. There's no way to be sure he'll come out in your bedroom! Not without ...” Her voice trailed off at the look on Claire's face.

Claire reached into the possibilities and set Lance's feet on a single path.

Rules broke.

Dean's hair had begun to gray.

Since it seemed to be his only remaining option, Austin launched himself from the top of the wardrobe, screaming a challenge.

Meryat swatted him aside. Lost a little flesh tone in the use of power but quickly gained it back as Dean seemed to shrink in on himself.

”Hold hard, you ancient and perfidious evil!”

Her attention lifted off Dean. ”What?”

Austin muzzily wondered much the same from where he sprawled against the headboard. When he was a kitten, perfidious and evil meant the same thing.

Bounding out of the wardrobe, Lance twirled a line of linen across the room.

Meryat stared at him in disbelief for a heartbeat, then laughed and raised a hand. ”Foolish b . . . OW!”

As the linen looped around her neck, Dean slid off the edge of the bed. It had taken everything he had left to overcome the years of training that Meryat had called his tragic flaw but, in the end, he'd managed a solid kick in the ankle. Now his back hurt, he had an intense craving for prune juice, and he couldn't actually hear what Lance was shouting. Wasn't entirely sure it was English. That's the trouble with kids today, talk a language all their own. It's all the fault of that MT . . . Whoa. Suddenly, he felt a lot better.

Meryat wasn't looking too good.

A finger dropped off and shattered to dust against the floor.

Lance wrapped another loop of linen around her body and kept shouting.