Unmarked by Kami García Page B

touched and my aunt’s boot hit the step, the wire reared back like a viper. It struck the water and a spray of sparks erupted from the point of contact.
    Electricity splintered through the water, the salt acting as the ultimate conduit.
    The force threw Faith forward and her body slammed against the wooden staircase. She moaned and rolled onto her side, cradling her wrist.
    Alara knelt down and helped her sit up. “We have to get that bracelet out of the house.”
    The wire hovered over the water, then struck again.
    “I need your pouch. Can you empty it?” Faith pointed at the bag of salt tucked in Alara’s tool belt.
    Alara dumped out the salt and handed it to her. “What are you going to do?”
    “I’m not even sure it will work.” My aunt dropped the gold cuff from the museum into the bag and tied it closed with her uninjured hand. “Bear. Come.”
    The Doberman darted to her side, awaiting my aunt’s next command.
    Faith pointed at the window covered in trash bags. “We need to shoot out the glass.”
    Alara slid a paintball gun from the waist of her cargo pants. “Done.”
    My aunt turned to me. “Are you a good shot?”
    “I can hit the window, if that’s what you’re asking.”
    “Give Kennedy the Punisher,” she said to Priest.
    He lifted the heavy weapon. “I’ve got it. This thing’s gonna have some hard-core kickback.”
    Faith threw him a hard stare. “My mother used to say that girls should be seen and not heard. I say we should be seen and
feared
. Give Kennedy the gun.”
    Priest handed me the weapon, and my aunt explained the basics. The ammo was packed with holy water and rock salt. To ensure an accurate shot, I had to lie on my stomach sniper-style and fire from the landing.
    The wire jabbed at the water again, a few feet from the staircase.
    “On three,” Alara said, as we aimed together. “One. Two. Three.”
    I squeezed the trigger. The butt of the Punisher rammed against my shoulder, round after round. Glassexploded from the panes, sending sheets of black plastic fluttering into the air.
    “That’s enough,” Faith called out.
    Even after I stopped firing, my muscles kept vibrating and the sound from the shots echoed in my ears.
    Lukas grabbed the back of Jared’s jacket and hauled him over the railing.
    Faith bent down and offered Bear the pouch. The dog took it in his mouth and waited. She slid a small metal flashlight out of her pocket and shined the light on the bench in the hallway. Bear snapped to attention, his eyes locked on Faith.
    “Jump,” she said.
    The Doberman leapt from the stairs. He landed on the bench and turned toward Faith, awaiting the next command.
    This time, she shined the flashlight on the dining room table, in front of the window we had just destroyed. “Jump.”
    The dog crouched and focused on the pale circle of light in the center of the table. I held my breath as he sprang. Bear’s paws hit the wood, and he skidded across the table.
    My aunt didn’t waste any time. She pointed the beam through the bay window and into the yard beyond it.
    One of the dining room walls cracked, and another wire began to work itself free.
    Faith didn’t hesitate. “Take it outside, Bear.”
    The dog focused on the circle of light and catapulted himself toward the glass jutting from the frame. Bear’s lithe body sailed through the glass jaws, and he disappeared into the darkness.
    The electrical wires twisted in the air. By now, every inch of the floor was soaked—including the staircase we standing on. The wires reared back, their black plastic coating pulsing like a paranormal heartbeat inside them.
    I held my breath.
    The wires dropped into the red water like stones, and the pigment began to fade.
    “Bear must’ve crossed the salt circle,” Faith said. “He’ll take the bag into the woods and leave it there, the way I trained him.” She leaned against the wall and exhaled slowly. “You’re lucky a random vengeance spirit attached itself to that