“She looks different here—I’ve drawn her differently. That streak of gray in her hair, and . . . she looks older. Doesn’t she?”
“She does, and that tells me while we may not stop her, we’ll do some damage.”
“I didn’t sketch us. None of these are of us.”
He picked up another. “But there’s this. This house—nothing as grand as this villa, but solid and real. Riley is, as one expects, making calls about accommodations on Capri. And if the time and distance prove too much for Sawyer, it happens Doyle can pilot a plane, and has a few contacts of his own. We’ll go as soon as we can.”
“But not tonight,” she said quietly. “She’ll come tonight, I know that now. And you’ll bring the storm.” She looked out to the promontory. “We should get ready.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
They spread weapons out under the pergola where they’d shared meals. Bows, guns, knives, and magickal vials and bottles.
The plan was simple, straightforward—and brutal.
Doyle had drawn it out with some of her paper. It reminded her of the football plays coaches outlined, which she didn’t understand at all.
“Positioned here, between the seawall and the house, we draw them in. We stay in the open as long as we can,” Doyle added. “Pulling in what she sends at us, taking them down. If and when we need to fall back, we use the grove for cover.”
He glanced at Bran.
“I’ll have the vials placed, as you see. Here, here, here, along here. We’ll drive them toward those positions. I’ll set them off. And the bottles, in these locations—you’ll remember to stay well clear of them. Riley and Sawyer can set them off with gunfire—but not,” Bran emphasized as he had before, “unless all are clear, at least ten feet. Twenty is better. The flash and power from those will obliterate any dark force, but if you’re nearer than ten feet, it’ll be blinding. Nearer than that? You could be burned, and seriously.”
“We get it, Irish, big boom, big power.” Riley continued to check ammo. “We’ll keep our distance.”
“Be sure of it. Under the cover of the flashes, I’ll change position, and go to the high cliff above the canal.”
“We,” Sasha corrected.
“I’ve explained what I’ll call there, what I’ll loose. It comes from me. I can withstand it. As with what’s in the bottles, you’ll need to be well clear.”
Sasha merely took the sketch out of her book, laid it out. “I’m there. I’m meant to be. If we question that, we question everything.”
“She’s right, man.” Sawyer belted on his holster. “I know it’s tough, but she’s right. You’ve got to take her up with you. We’ll cover you. Count on it. But she’s got to go with you.”
“It’s her purpose.” Gently, Annika stroked Bran’s arm. “Because you love, together you’ll be stronger.”
“I don’t know about love, but I’m not going to question our resident seer. Sorry, Bran,” Riley added. “You don’t screw with destiny.”
“Your word. Your promise,” Sasha insisted. “Because you won’t break it to me.”
“I’ll take you.” The choice was no longer his. “My word.”
“Now that that’s settled,” Riley put in, “let’s make sure we kick her ass, and her ugly minions—good word—too.”
“All over it.” Sawyer slid a second knife in his boot.
“After we kick her ass,” Annika began, and made Sawyer grin at how carefully she enunciated the phrase, “we go here.” She looked at Sasha’s painting. “I know this place, and can swim there. I can get there quickly, and then Sawyer wouldn’t have to take so many.”
“Nobody’s alone.” Sawyer shook his head. “It’s not safe. We go together.”
“I can get a plane, but it’s going to take a couple more days.” Like Sawyer, Doyle slipped a knife into his boot. “And I’m thinking getting gone sooner rather than later is the smart move.”
“I’ve got a place nearly lined up. Friend of a cousin of a cousin’s getting it set up. I might be able to get us a plane,” Riley considered. “I can see if I’ve got some lines to tug.”
“Let me try it.” Sawyer shrugged. “If I can’t do us all at once, I can take half of us, come back, take the other half. If it doesn’t work, we can try for the plane.”
“And the boat?” Riley asked, mostly because she got a kick out of seeing it sitting in the yard.