She was floating again. Being reckless. But if these men were with Connell then this battle was partially hers to fight- and the further she ran out into the front yard, the more she liked the idea. If she could bait just one enemy—away from the house, from Quill, from Kirk—she would be making a difference.

The Firebird had given a horrible gift to her other self, the Phoebe who couldn’t have existed for more than a few hours, who she couldn’t remember being. But now that gift was hers to deal with. To use.

Colby moving away from the idling car was the first thing she saw. That man from the train. He walked without haste around the side of the vehicle, even though he could see her approaching.

“Silver!” Phoebe called for him to follow, motioning to Colby, and thankfully he complied. She did her best to stay out of his reach. The way he moved made her feel like he was running after her, not with her. But if she could get to the car before he decided to pounce…

A gunshot cut them both off from their target. Phoebe’s ears snapped in the direction of the sound. A man with the wrinkly aspect of a turtle was running across the lawn. His pistol was raised.

He pointed the gun at her again but she turned on a dime, racing for the trees. In an instant any target she had–any semblance of a plan–was shot out of her head. All she could manage to do was turn and see that she was still being followed before she crashed through the treeline. Struggling, she ignored any path and fought with the mid-story growth. Holly tugged at the fabric of her shirt and scratched at her skin. Greenbriar tore at her calves. Louder than the snapping branches and crunching leaves was the sound of her own breath in her ears. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d run like this, and she didn’t notice that her smile had returned.