Finn hauled me into his arms, tears in his eyes. “Sorry it took so long.”
I kissed him. “I’m just glad you’re here. I knew you’d come. Please tell me you have some kind of a weapon for me.”
“If I had my way I’d carry you, but I knew that would be too much to ask.” He said while he reached behind his back and pulled out the compact 9mm with a double-stack mag I practice with at the ranch, and handed itto me. “I only have two extra mags in my pocket, and that’s it so aim well, Maverick.”
"I'll do my best cowboy. Now please get me out of here."
He grabbed my hand, and we headed for the stairs with me glued to his back. On the first landing, the ceiling above started to collapse. Chunks of rock and molten metal rained down, burning holes in the floor.
He barely flinched as he put his arm around me and pulled me along.
At the top, the world was chaos.
I’d always thought rescue would feel like freedom. Instead, it felt like a sprint through the world’s goriest funhouse, with every step a gamble and every breath a brush with dying.
I noticed Finn was holding his side as we ran. His shirt was shredded and bloody. Someone had clawed him up pretty good, but he hadn’t let go of me. Not for a second.
The staircase out of the dungeon was a choke point, and the demons made the most of it. They were packed in so tight it was hard to see where one body ended and another began—claws, fangs, and eyes like hot coals. Lucky for me, it was pretty much like shooting demons caught in the world’s worst cattle chute. They hit the walls and the floor and didn’t get back up. I was just thankful Maltraz hadn’t taken my boots off as we walked over their corpses.
Behind us, Menace and Wrecker kept the pressure on. Every time I looked back, it was a blur of teeth and claws, blood splattering the rock in arcs that would haunt my dreams if I lived long enough to have any.
Lucia was everywhere at once—sometimes behind, sometimes ahead, moving so fast she was just a smear of hair and knives. Kazimir followed, cool and collected, his gaze alone enough to snap a demon’s neck or fling it into the abyss that had opened up below the stairs.
At the top of the stairs, we broke out into a half-destroyed chamber. Bronc was in the thick of it, his wolf half out, muscles bunching undera shirt that was more blood than fabric. He was fighting three demons at once and winning, but just barely.
Finn stopped when we hit the main room at the top of the stairs.
“Stay here,” he said, but I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to be alone. I grabbed his hand and didn’t let go.
“I don’t think so, cowboy.
Maltraz waited at the far end of the room, in front of the only visible exit. He was less human now, more a fusion of every nightmare I’d ever had—horns curling out like antlers, eyes burning with hate, body radiating power so thick it made the air shiver.
He saw us and howled, “None of you are leaving! The girl is mine!”
He turned to Adramal and Nazek, who’d followed us up the stairs, and bellowed, “Defend your king! Now!”
Adramal looked at me, then at Finn, and just… stepped aside.
Nazek did the same. They both melted into the shadows, unwilling to die for a lost cause.
Maltraz’s face went from furious to desperate in a heartbeat. He hurled a lance of black fire at Finn, but it fizzled out before it reached him. I looked over and saw Aspen at the far side of the chamber, hands raised, her hair floating around her face like she was underwater. Oscar perched on her shoulder, squeaking out a prairie dog war cry.
The next volley from Maltraz—spinning daggers made of pure magic—hit an invisible shield. Aspen caught them with her hands and spun them right back, three at once, hitting Maltraz in the chest and knocking him back a good ten feet.
He screamed, clawing at the wounds, but they didn’t bleed. Instead, blue smoke poured out, the essence of his power burning away with every breath.
Lucia was at his side in an instant, her blade at his throat.
But instead of begging, Maltraz smiled.
“You think you’ve won,” he spat. “I haven’t even begun to lose.”
He twisted out of Lucia’s grip, burning himself in the process, and tumbled backward into the darkness beyond the chamber. There was a hiss, then silence.
Kazimir stepped up, eyes still fixed on the place Maltraz had vanished. “He’ll run,” he said. “He always does.”
Finn looked at me, his face wild and beautiful and alive. “You okay?”
