Free Crushed (City of Eldrich Book 2) by Laura Kirwan

call me,” Dana said. “I know how bad this stuff is. My dad, a long time ago . . . let me know if I can help, okay?”
    The increasingly familiar maternal instinct stirring within her, Meaghan said, “You got it, kiddo. I owe you on this one. Thanks. How soon until they get here?”
    “Cops are about two minutes. The EMTs are going over to Natalie’s first to take a quick look at Patrice, so expect them in about five. Is that okay?”
    “Yeah,” Meaghan said, looking at Jamie huddled on the floor. “He’s cut up, but it looks superficial.”
    “I’ll try to keep the spectators away. Susan’s working on it with me. Official story’s a gas leak.”
    “Thanks again for this.”
    “You’re welcome. Keep us posted, okay?”
    Meaghan hung up. Jamie still hunched on the floor, his sobs replaced with quiet weeping. She crouched near him and stroked his back. She avoided the angry red sigil, feeling a deep aversion in her gut at the thought of it pulsing under her fingers.
    He didn’t pull away this time, which she took as a good sign. “Jamie,” she said. “Let me help you.”
    He sat up and finally met her gaze. She tried not to gasp. Circles like bruises stood under each eye. His once bright blue eyes were dull and bloodshot. Hopelessness etched his face, his skin so pale it was nearly gray.
    “You can’t help me,” he said, his voice thick with tears. “No one can help me. They marked me. I tried to cut it out, but it won’t go.”
    He patted his chest. Horrified, Meaghan realized he’d been using the glass shard to try to carve away the sigil located above his heart. The tattered flesh oozed blood, but the sigil remained, like an island rising above a thick red sea.
    “Jamie,” she whispered, tears in her eyes. “Oh, Jamie.”
    “I can hear them,” he said, “whispering in my head, telling me to do bad things. I try to fight, but it blows out of me and hurts someone else. They won’t even let me kill myself. I tried and I can’t. They stop me.”
    “Who are they, honey? Do you know?” she asked. “Is it that thing from Fahraya? That thing in your uncle?”
    He shook his head. “Worse,” he whispered. “So much worse. They come in my dreams. I try not to sleep, but then I do and they come and they . . .”
    He turned away from Meaghan. She felt his body shudder and knew he was weeping again.
    “They tell me to hurt her and . . . Oh, God, I did. I hit her and now they want me to kill her and the kids.” He turned and clutched at Meaghan. “Put me down. Blow my head off. Before I hurt them again. Please.”
    “No,” Meaghan said. “We can figure this out. We’ll keep them safe. Patrice is with Natalie, and the kids are with Lynette.”
    He calmed slightly. “Natalie?”
    Meaghan nodded. “And Lynette. And you’re no match for either one. Your family is safe. I promise you I will keep them safe.”
    He stared in her eyes for a long moment, then nodded.
    “The police are coming,” she said. “Don’t resist in any way. We’ll figure this out.”
    He nodded again. Meaghan kissed him on the forehead. He clung to her a moment, like a small child, his body shaking.
    “Stay here,” she said. “I’ll handle this.”
    Meaghan walked into the living room, raised her hands, and waited. Two police officers entered, guns drawn. In a loud commanding voice, the first cop, middle-aged and stocky, said, “Who else is in the house?”
    Meaghan knew she needed to stay relaxed and not add any energy to the situation. “Jamie’s in the kitchen. He’s not violent or resisting. He needs medical attention and a psych evaluation, but he’s calm.”
    “Who are you?” The cop still had his gun raised.
    “Meaghan Keele, family friend. I was nearby when it happened.”
    The officer lowered his gun. He motioned to his companion. “She’s Matthew’s daughter.”
    She stepped closer and in a low voice said, “Something bad—magically bad—is happening and he’s scared. The sooner