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blood ooze into the speckling of white foam that clung
to him in splotches, turning it pink. Guess her aim
hadn’t been specific enough.
For a split second, his attention shifted to a point
behind her.
“You need to go. Now.”
Roxy turned, and saw nothing. Just shadows and
night and the empty front porch of her house.
“Get the fuck out of here,” Dagan snarled.
She turned back, the fire extinguished held across
her chest.
Damn.Where had they all come from? There were
at least a dozen concubines now, advancing like a pack
of hyenas, eyes glowing orange, lips peeled back.
They were looking at her. And they didn’t look
friendly.
Dagan’s gaze met hers. The connection lasted no
more than a frozen millisecond. Gray eyes. Pewter and
mercury. The rage and power he held leashed were
palpable, like a wave of heat steaming off concrete,
bending the air.
She backed away. Her bag of tricks was empty.
Right now, there was nothing more she could do here.
Not for him. Not for herself.
The promise he’d made earlier hung between them.
Remember, if you run, I will find you.
Good luck with that.
Decision made, Roxy aimed the extinguisher can at
the advancing fire genies. They stopped midpace.
