Bennett’s head lowered into shadow. She hugged herself, her head shaking. “George doesn’t like me. He told me so.”
George Paulsen, Enid’s latest mistake in the man department. Even though she was only fourteen, Nest knew a loser when she saw one. George Paulsen was a scary loser, though. She came a step closer, looking for a way to make physical contact with Bennett so that she could draw the little girl away from the cliff. The river was a dark, silver shimmer far below the cliffs, flat and still within the confines of the bayou, where the railroad tracks were elevated on the levy, wilder and swifter beyond where the main channel flowed. The darkness made the drop seem even longer than it was, and Bennett was only a step or two away.
“George needs to get an attitude adjustment,” Nest offered. “Everybody likes you, Ben Ben. Come on, let’s go find your mommy and talk to her about it. I’ll go with you. Hey, what about Spook? I’ll bet your kitty misses you.”
Bennett Scott’s moppet head shook quickly, scattering her lank, dark hair in tangles. “George took Spook away. He doesn’t like cats.”
Nest wanted to spit. That worthless creep! Spook was just about the only thing Bennett Scott had. She felt her grip on the situation beginning to loosen. The feeders were weaving about Bennett like snakes, and the little girl was cringing and hugging herself in fear. Bennett couldn’t see them, of course. She wouldn’t see them until it was too late. But she could hear them somewhere in the back of her mind, an invisible presence, insidious voices, taunting and teasing. They were hungry for her, and the balance was beginning to shift in their favor.
“I’ll help you find Spook,” Nest said quickly. “And I’ll make sure that George doesn’t take him away again either. What do you say to that?”
Bennett Scott hugged herself some more and looked fixedly at her feet, thinking it over. Her thin body went still. “Do you promise, Nest? Really?”
Nest Freemark gave her a reassuring smile. “I do, sweetie. Now walk over here and take my hand so we can go home.”
The feeders moved to intervene, but Nest glared at them and they flinched away. They wouldn’t meet her gaze, of course. They knew what would happen if they did. Nevertheless, they were bolder than usual tonight, more ready to challenge her. That was not a good sign.
“Bennett,” she said quietly. The little girl’s head lifted and her eyes came into the light. “Look at me, Bennett. Don’t look anywhere else, okay? Just look right at me. Now walk over here and take my hand.”
Bennett Scott started forward, one small step at a time. Nest waited patiently, holding her gaze. The night air had turned hot and still again, the breeze off the river dying away. Insects buzzed and flew in erratic sweeps, and, not wanting to do anything that would startle the little girl, Nest fought down the impulse to brush at them.
“Come on, Ben Ben,” she cajoled softly.
As Bennett Scott advanced, the feeders gave way grudgingly, dropping down on all fours in a guarded crouch and skittering next to her like crabs. Nest took a deep breath.
One of the feeders broke away from the others and made a grab for Bennett. Nest hissed at it furiously, caught its eye, and stripped it of its life with a single, chilling glance. That was all it took-one instant in which their eyes met and her magic took control. The feeder collapsed in a heap and melted into the earth in a black stain. The others backed off watchfully.
Nest took a deep, calming breath. “Come on, Bennett,” she urged in a tight whisper. “It’s all right, sweetie.”
The little girl had almost reached her when the headlight of the freight train swept across the bayou as the lead engine lurched out of the night. Bennett Scott hesitated, her eyes suddenly wide and uncertain. Then the train whistle sounded its shrill, piercing wail, and she cried out in fear.
Nest didn’t hesitate. She grabbed Bennett Scott’s arm, snatched the little girl from her feet, and pressed her close. For a moment she held her ground, facing down the feeders. But she saw at once that there were too many to stand against, so she wheeled from the cliffs and began to run. Behind her, the feeders bounded in pursuit. Already Pick was astride Daniel, and the barn owl swooped down on the foremost pursuers, talons extended. The feeders veered away, giving Nest an extra few yards head start.