Devin heard the footfalls on the carpet, his reflexes still sharp. He dodged, picking up the pot of tea and slamming it into Graves’s face. The wild cry of pain was followed by a flurry of curses and barked orders, but Devin had slipped in the adjoining door and locked it behind him.
He turned, expecting to find Miranda still oblivious in the bath, but instead she was just behind him. And wearing his clothes while brandishing a fire poker in her free hand. Heshould not have been surprised. She must have dressed in seconds, the fabric was sticking to her dripping skin. But even his steely, amazing Miranda’s hands were trembling.
“I heard him,” she said, voice hollow.
“We’re going to—”
The door shattered, bursting into a thousand splinters and fragments over the floor. Devin took a small risk, diving away from Miranda to throw open the drapes that blocked the window. The sunset blasted into the room, and Devin felt it like a slap across the face. He didn’t care about weakening himself, only the other two Night Fae. And, as he hoped, there was no turning invisible in sunlight. Besides, the most dangerous person in the room was entirely unaffected by the sun or moon.
“Fuck!” Graves stepped into the shadows. The sun was hardly dangerous or toxic, but so much so suddenly was bound to throw them off.
Avery, now no longer invisible, hadn’t needed time to recover and advanced. Miranda lashed out with her fire poker, striking him with the hooked end. Blood sprayed, but the wound wasn’t deep enough to deter him.
“Nice try.” Graves recovered and took out his own weapon, though Devin suspected Graves would wait until Avery had weakened them enough to eliminate danger.
“You get Graves,” Miranda shouted, easily ducking and dodging every attempt to corral her. “Devin, move, now’s your chance.”
His body felt like it was full of lead, like he couldn’t have lifted a leg if he wanted to and it had nothing to do with the sun. Graves raised his arm to throw the blade, to stop Miranda who was currently the strongest force in the room, and the trance shattered.
Devin caught Graves’s arm, grappling with him until the sword fell with a clatter. Graves kicked at his chest, knocking the air from his lungs.
“You worthless piece of trash,” Graves spat, “How your mother could bear the thought of creating you, I’ll never understand.”
Devin knocked Graves backward, then lunged for the sword. As he lifted it, blade poised to slice through Graves’s throat, the man’s demeanor instantly shifted.
“Don’t. Please, I beg you,” Graves groveled.
And just as Devin was about to drive the blade home, Miranda cried out behind him. He turned, searching for her, fear squeezing his heart.
Pain erupted in his side.
“NO!”
The world blurred at the edges, and something wet and hot and sticky began to trickle down his side. Devin lost his balance.
Where was Miranda? He could hear her.
“Devin? Devin!”
He needed to find her, but he—
Miranda watched Devin sink to his knees. She screamed, but it wasn’t enough. He still hit the floor, eyes flickering closed.
And there was not a force on earth that could have stopped her.
Evading Avery, Miranda leapt clear over the tub.
Graves started to back away. The knife slipped from his shaking fingers. His fear understood it didn’t matter. No weapon would have saved him.
Miranda stalked closer. She used a foot to flick the fallen sword into her hand. She prepared to strike.
“Now, hold on.” Graves held up a hand. “I let your sister live, isn’t that…Avery! Avery, what the fuck am I paying you for? Stop her—”
Graves’s back hit the wall. He held up his arms.
The start of a word formed on his lips. But his final sound was a guttural sputter.
And she did not stop stabbing.
