Chapter 18 · Hero Kid Has a Knife

The kid's eyes snapped open and he had a knife.

Mark didn't see where it came from. One second the boy was bleeding all over him, blue eyes wide and terrified. Next second there was a four-inch blade angled at Mark's throat and the terror had gone sharp and cold.

"Don't move." The kid's voice cracked on the second word. American accent. Midwest, maybe Ohio. "Don't fucking move."

Mark froze. His hands were still up from when the summoning circle had tried to rip him apart. Blood—the kid's blood—was soaking through his shirt, warm and sticky.

"Easy," Mark said. "Easy. I'm not—"

The knife pressed closer. The kid was shaking. No, not shaking. Vibrating. Like every muscle in his body was wound too tight and about to snap.

"Where is this?" the kid demanded. "Where the hell did you send me?"

"I didn't send you anywhere. I'm—"

"Liar." The blade nicked Mark's skin. Just a scratch, but enough to sting. "You were in the circle. You pulled me through."

Veran moved. Just a step, just a shift of weight, but the kid's head whipped around and suddenly the knife wasn't at Mark's throat anymore.