Red comet

Blake barely had time to react before she was on him. Rose's body moved like a ghost in the dark, a blur of red eyes and bared fangs. A hand struck out—faster than he could track—and he barely twisted in time to avoid having his throat crushed. But before he could even register relief, a knee slammed into his ribs, sending him skidding across the void.

His vision blurred. The spirit world had no true ground, yet he felt the impact in every bone. The air—or whatever passed for it in this cursed plane—rushed out of his lungs.

But he had no time to breathe.

Rose was already there.

A pale hand seized his arm, yanking him upright. He swung a desperate fist, but she ducked, pivoting like a dancer, her movements sharper than he remembered. Before he could reset his stance, a vicious elbow crashed into his face, snapping his head back. Blood—spiritual or otherwise—splattered from his nose.

'Damn it… she's too fast.'