color pinked her cheeks and her eyelids squeezed so tight it looked like she was in pain, and I hoped she was. That would mean she was alive.
Rusty coughed and the ox horn flew from her mouth and landed in the snow outside. She sat up, gasping, clutching her chest and heaving in gulps of air.
Natalie lunged at her and wrapped her in a hug so tight I thought she’d squeeze the breath out of her again. They cried in each other’s arms. As much as I wanted to join in, I hung back and tried not to feel left out. I was a knight too, and that knowledge would have to be enough for now.
“You scared me to death,” Natalie told her.
Rusty looked confused for a second, then shot me a glance. “Was I dead?”
“Pretty much, yeah,” I said.
She touched her lips. “Was that thing in my mouth? That cursed horn?”
I pulled back my shoulders and straightened my spine. “Yes. It gave you back your life.”
“If not for Chalice you’d still be dead,” Natalie said. “She saved you.”
Rusty frowned, not appearing one bit thankful. Then her frown deepened. “Something took my breath away.”
Natalie nodded. “The smoke. You suffocated.”
Shaking her head, Rusty said, “No, smoke has no effect on me. It was something else.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“It felt so…strange.” She still clutched her chest, her eyes growing distant as if trying to remember. “Like being inside a vacuum. There was no smoke, no air, no nothing. As if something sucked my breath right out of me.”
Natalie and I exchanged looks. She said, “That’s impossible, Rusty. It’s only happened to knights that are asleep.”
“Maybe whatever it was is now desperate enough to prey on us when we’re awake,” I said. “Rusty, what was the last thing you saw before passing out?”
“Fire.”
“You didn’t see anyone near you?” I asked.
“Of course there were people near me.” Rusty bit off each word. “We were fighting a fire. Four fighters stood beside me, each wearing a protective suit and mask.”
“So you couldn’t see their faces,” Natalie said.
“No, I couldn’t.”
“I bet one of them did it,” I said. “The Hatchet murderer disguised himself to get close to you.”
“Hatchet murderer?” Rusty chuckled. “You make it sound like a villain from a bad horror movie.”
I glared at her. “I wasn’t trying to be funny.”
“Don’t worry, you weren’t,” Rusty said, but the corners of her mouth pulled up in a smile. “Thanks for saving my life even if you did use that…thing.”
I looked down at the snow where the horn had fallen. It lay there looking dull and ordinary, its power spent. I vaguely wondered if it could be recharged and if so, who could recharge it. Cursed or not, it was a handy gadget to have around, especially for a fire master like Rusty. I hopped down from the ambulance and snatched it up to shove into my coat pocket.
I gazed out at the sky, wondering if Aydin still watched. He was more of a guardian angel than Rafe, who spent too much time being stubborn about accepting Aydin for the good man he was. He wouldn’t stop criticizing him for becoming a gargoyle, which wasn’t even his fault. Come to think of it, none of our guardian angels had come to the rescue.
“I’m new at all this knight stuff,” I told my sisters. “Can I ask you both a question?”
They had guarded looks on their faces, their eyes shifting attention from me to each other and back again. “Sure,” Rusty said. “Shoot.”
“Where was your guardian angel when you were suffocating to death?” I asked.
The corner of Rusty’s mouth slid up in a smug grin. “That’s not how it works. It’s not like they’re on autopilot.”
Granted, I still had a lot to learn, but I was confused. “Guardians don’t guard?”
“They’re more like guides,” Natalie said. “Once we’re old enough to be knights, our guardians shift roles from protector to partner. They come to our aid only when summoned.”
Okay, I could buy that, but I had to admit the partner thing made me squeamish. I was about to say so when the two EMTs came back to the ambulance with the boy on a backboard. They stood statute-still and stared at Rusty, their mouths gaping like howler monkeys.
“Oh!” Rusty scrambled to her feet and wobbled, but Natalie caught her before she could fall. “The boy! Is he okay?”
“Chalice saved him, too.” Natalie sounded like a proud sister. It gave me a warm feeling.
Rusty blinked. “Cool,” she said as Natalie helped her down from the ambulance.
The EMTs were sputtering something about Rusty being dead, her heart having stopped, blah-blah-blah. I’d been around the supernatural long enough to know death wasn’t always a permanent condition, but these guys had no clue.
I infused my voice with amazement when I told them, “It was so strange. Rusty suddenly sat straight up. We about jumped right out of our skins, didn’t we, Natalie?”
Natalie trilled a nervous giggle that sounded about as real as a sitcom laugh track. She patted her chest. “Oh, yes. Quite a shock.”
The men shook their heads and went on with their work, securing the boy to a gurney. One of them said, “Miss, you need to come with us to the hospital and get checked out. You could be more injured than you think.”
“I’m fine,” Rusty said, waving them off like flies. “You have a more important patient to worry about.”
I tilted my head toward the boy. “Does anyone know where his parents are?”
The EMT who’d expressed concern about Rusty said, “They’ve been notified. The boy was supposed to be in school, but he snuck out to go home.” He frowned at Timmy, who looked no older than six or seven. “We suspect he started the fire.”
Someone was in big trouble. “I’m just happy he’s okay.”
“So are his parents. Thanks for your help.” The EMT nodded at me before slipping into the seat behind the wheel. His partner stayed in back and closed the ambulance doors.
We watched them drive off, siren blaring.
Rusty gave my shoulder a friendly yet firm slap. “Welcome to Halo Home.”
six
“YOU WERE DEAD?” MY GRANDMOTHER asked, her turquoise eyes intent on Rusty.
Rusty nodded. “Suffocated. And not from inhaling smoke.”
“She had the breath sucked out of her,” Natalie said. “Sound familiar?”
Aurora’s face went pale. “That does it. No one leaves this house until the murderer is found and dealt with. Is that understood?”
“The Hatchet murderer.” Rusty waggled her fingers and made a ghostly wailing sound.
My grandmother closed her eyes as if praying for patience. “There’s nothing funny about this. Over forty knights have been picked off like flies, leaving only a half dozen left. That’s counting the four of us.”
Rusty bent her head and mumbled, “Sorry.”
“I think Rusty is still suffering from shock. Death will do that to a person.” I felt my grandmother looking at me and sensed