Harvey Kingston didn't laugh for long.
To his shock, Alex slowly stood up. He was unsteady on his feet, but he looked at Kingston and smiled weakly. There was a bottle of water in his hand. It was almost empty. Almost.
Before the Ghost could react, Alex drank the last bit of the elixir he'd used to save Joe and his family. Kingston's jaw dropped as the cuts on Alex's arms and torso began to close. In the span of a few heartbeats, even the wound to his gut was completely healed.
"What? I don't understand," Kingston sputtered.
"You Ghosts only see what you want to see. You have no idea what I'm capable of," Alex said.
Kingston's eyes narrowed. "I may not know how you pulled this off, but it doesn't matter. My poisons bond to your cells. Without the antidote, you'll die. Maybe even here, in your friend's house. Your life force might keep you here." He laughed. "You can haunt the yard all day and cry alone."
"Heh. You make a good point. I won't kill you here. Joe's kids deserve a less pathetic boogeyman," Alex said. He enjoyed the flare of rage in the Ghost's eyes.
"Oh, by the way. You dropped this." Alex held up one of Kingston's knives.
His arm blurred. There was a meaty 'thunk', and a sharp gasp. Kingston's eyes were wide as he looked down to see the hilt of his own blade sticking out of his left shoulder. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. He took a ragged breath and staggered.
"You… You... " The Ghost's face twisted in horror. His breath became shallow. "You..."
"I said I wouldn't kill you here," Alex said calmly. He watched Kingston's pupils dilate and was briefly curious what kind of visions might frighten a Ghost.
No longer able to speak, Kingston nodded wildly. With terror in his eyes, he fell to his knees.
"Everything dies, Ghost. You're no exception," Alex said coldly. "You can still crawl out of here. If you're lucky, your heart will give out in three days."
Kingston's eyes were wild with madness and anger. The only sound he could make was a grotesque, rasping croak. He reached out with one shaking hand and lurched forward. Alex knew firsthand how he felt. Strangely, he couldn't seem to muster up any sympathy.
The Ghost began to paw at his jacket pocket, his clumsy fingers grasped a slim, black case after three fumbling tries. He tore it open and removed the black metal syringe. The barrel was empty. He stared at it, baffled. He had given his last dose to Louisa Murdoch.
Harvey Kingston had been a master of poisons, an accomplished fighter, and a fearsome, respected Ghost. Now he was going to die. He was being killed by one of his own weapons. Summoning the last of his will, he climbed to his feet and shambled away from the man who had bested him.
Alex watched him struggle to flee and wondered if he should end the Ghost's suffering. Before he could decide, his cell phone rang.
Alex answered the call. "You survived my Ghost friend," said a man's voice. Alex didn't respond. "I didn't think you would. I should have known better. Miss Scott is unharmed, by the way. You can't convince me that you don't care about her safety. She's at Belt's Wharf. We'll be seeing you soon." The phone beeped as the caller hung up. While Alex had been distracted, the Ghost had vanished.
"Don't worry about Rose, Alex. They might be animals, but they want you dead more than they want to hurt her," said a faint voice behind him. Neil Hall leaned wearily against a wide archway. Alex glanced past him into the living room where the rest of the Hall family was still unconscious.
Neil had received a double dose of Alex's life force to cure him from the Ghost's attack, so it made sense that he'd come to first. He'd clearly heard the threat Alex had just received. "You can't go," he said. "They'd just kill you both, son. You have to know that." His voice was thick with worry.
"I know, Mr. Hall," said Alex. He was so tired. He closed his eyes and tried to plan his next move. "But I have to—" his voice was cut off by a flash of white-hot pain. He reached behind his shoulder to find a knife buried in his back. His eyes were wide with disbelief. "Mr. Hall?" he whispered weakly. "Neil?" Out of instinct, he tried to pull on the knife. He cut open his hand. "Why?"
Neil Hall's face was bathed in sweat. His hands were shaking, but he leaned on the knife, driving it in deeper. Alex bit back a scream.
"Between saving your family and fighting that Ghost," he said, gasping, "I don't have the energy to heal myself. But you knew that didn't you? That was part of the trap." Alex grimaced. "I never suspected you."
He wasn't sure which hurt more—the literal knife in his back or the metaphor.
Neil's eyes were pitiless. "Alex, you shouldn't have come to Baltimore."
Alex was strangely calm. He concentrated on managing the pain and trying not to pass out. He wondered if he was going into shock. "Are you in some kind of trouble? Money?" It was getting harder to breathe.
Neil shook his head. "No, son, nothing like that," he said. "You shouldn't have crossed the Ghosts. You really shouldn't have."
"You're one of them? You're a Ghost."
Neil said nothing, but his eyes hardened. Guess that answers that, thought Alex.
"Is Joe? Is he a Ghost? Ben? Max?" Alex asked.
"No. Joe's just a kid. He's not ready," Neil said. "But one day, maybe. I'll bring him into the fold when the time's right. As for the others," he said with disgust, "what would the Ghosts want with trash?"
Alex grimaced and drew a shaky breath. "I don't know why I'm surprised to find Ghosts in the suburbs of Baltimore. This isn't even the weirdest part of my week," he said with a bleak little laugh. "I guess I just got careless." Alex couldn't stand to look at Neil anymore. He was losing a lot of blood, and it was getting harder to think straight. He looked around the ruined dining room. "Heck of a mess. Are they going to foot the bill for repairs, Neil? Is this house part of their payoff?"