Free Whenever-kobo by Emily Evans Page A

pointed it at Lisette.
    I covered my mouth. Austin cursed, and Lisette wavered, not knowing what to do.
    Sean pursed his lips in righteous fervor. “There’s every need to do this now. I must know the real heir.”
    Lisette climbed the steps, her face pale under her tan, and walked to the sword. She knelt beside the hilt. Sean watched her every move with a narrow focus. She used two fingers and wiped the blood from a cut on her arm over the center of the blade.
    “Say the words,” Sean said. He repeated the Irish phrase.
    Lisette mumbled, and he made her repeat it twice in Irish and once in English.
    Nothing happened.
    The nut job paced. “Now you,” Sean said. His gaze flitted to me, while he kept a wary eye on Callum and Austin.
    “Leave her,” Callum said. Every muscle in his body appeared tense.
    “Now.” Sean’s voice pitched high. “Do it.” He paused to suck in a breath. “At the decathlon, you said you could be the princess. You said it. Prove it.”
    Not a people who let things go, the Irish. I licked my dry lips and walked over to the filthy sword. Blood, rust, silver—it didn’t look like much. The hilt had a circular hole, as if a gem had resided there, and the letter C had been etched into the circle. I followed Lisette’s lead and pressed a gash on my leg. A sting preceded the welling of blood. I wiped the smear on my index finger, held it up to show the psycho and rubbed the blood over the letter.
    With a pounding heart, I centered myself on the pulpit and said the phrase in a hushed voice, “ Sheoladh chugam nuair a Táim ag teastáil .” The words fell flat in the afternoon air. But I thought I had the Gaelic right.
    Nothing happened.
    “Repeat it,” Sean screamed at me.
    Callum moved onto the steps, placing himself between me and Sean. “Leave her alone.”
    Austin stepped forward, reached up and grabbed the hilt of the sword. “My turn.” He used his fist and rubbed the blade over one of his knuckles. Instead of taking the steps to the altar, he turned, charged Sean, and said, “We’re Americans, and we’re not putting up with your foreign superstitious crap.”
    My heart pounded harder, and I bit back a warning.
    Sean’s head swiveled as he tried to keep everyone in his sights. “Back, back in your spots.”
    I said the phrase in a loud, clear voice, trying to draw Sean’s attention to me.
    A gust of wind swept through the church and the pressure knocked me back. I said the phrase over and over, screaming now, hoping to distract Sean with his own words.
    The gun swiveled toward me.
    Callum ran and got in front of me, one arm outstretched, one reaching for the sword. “Stop. Sean. Stop. Now.”
    I grabbed for Callum, fighting the dizziness, trying to move him so he wouldn’t end up like the guard.
    Lisette screamed. “Don’t.”
    Sean swiveled. The gun went off and Lisette screamed again, falling backwards, red blood blooming across her shirt.
    I heard her as if I were in a bubble. “Lisette.” My hair whipped across my face, stinging my cheeks, hitting Callum. A thousand pinpricks started at my toes and waved over my body. The sensations increased as if I was riding a roller coaster and I’d reached the top upside down portion. I pressed back and dropped forward.
    Callum’s image blurred, and he slipped from me.
    The grey stones swirled around me.
    The colors of the stained glass whirled together.
    I fell.
     
     

 

Chapter 5
     
    A fierce burning on my side made me want to scream. Had I been shot too? I pressed one hand against the pain and grabbed the ledge along the pulpit with the other. Ivy crushed under my fingers, and I leaned against it to keep from falling flat out.
    The voices of unfamiliar men reached me. I focused on one. For a moment, he sounded garbled. Then he came in clearly, as if I’d tuned into a radio station.
    My vision sharpened and I spotted Callum, pulling himself up from the floor. I tried to speak, but couldn’t.
    In front of us, a priest