I’m going to die.
Mathias lifts his hand, gleaming blade in his fist. My heart threatens to explode from my chest as he stares at me with wicked glee. Then he plunges the knife down, straight for my chest. My last thoughts are of Tabby and our coming youngling. I pray they stay safe. I brace for pain.
Instead, Mathias goes limp.
Panting, I scramble out from under him and scan the darkening room. Tabitha stands in silhouette by the stairwell, wand outstretched, hand shaking. “I don’t know much self-defense, but Father once taught me to immobilize.”
Relief surging in my chest, I leap to my feet and run to capture her in my arms. “You shouldn’t have stayed.”
She rears back, blue eyes full of unshed tears. “He would have killed you.”
“But you two would be safe.” I cup her belly even as my head screams that arguing here and now is foolish.
I glance one last time at Mathias sprawled across the tile, then hurl a deadly blood spell at him, one that should evaporate every drop of blood in his veins. I’m horrified when he merely jolts, groans—and begins to rouse.
Bloody fucking hell! Since Mathias already died once…is it impossible to kill him again?
I can’t wait around to find out. Despite exchanging energy with Tabby minutes ago, the spells I performed exhausted me. I must rest—or recharge—and soon.
I grab her hand. “Let’s go.”
Tugging her into the stairwell, I keep her as close as possible. My mind races. After the way I left her and our youngling to fight, she still came back to save me. She risked herself against the most dangerous wizard in magickind’s history, and if not for her, Ronan would be mourning his twin. I don’t have to ask why; this amazing witch loves me.
That both makes me feel more unworthy and humbles me like nothing else.
“With the Doomsday Brethren…do you face danger like that?” she pants as we race downstairs for the exit.
I can’t lie. “Yes.”
“You... You’ve met him in battle before?”
“Not alone. But the others and I, we’ve fought his army.”
Her hand tightens in mine. “Army? There are only seven of you.”
Since nothing I can say will allay her fears, I send her a terse nod. “There were eight until we lost Lucan MacTavish to mate mourning.”
Finally, we round a corner and burst out of the stairwell, suddenly facing glass doors. I sense other beings making their way into the building’s main lobby, closer. Shoving Tabby behind me, I summon the last of my energy and fling a fireball at the nearest one, felling him instantly. Another runs for us, sending streams of something that looks like red water. Tabitha gasps, and I try to think of a defensive spell.
The next thing I know, Tabby halts at my side and flicks her wand, erecting a clear protective wall.
“Damn it, I put you behind me,” I grumble, stare still glued to the incoming Anarki.
She just pushes me forward, holding me by the shirt to keep me behind her forcefield.
“It won’t block much or hold for long. Maybe two minutes.” Her voice shakes with exhaustion.
I need to get her out of here—now.
I funnel my rage and frustration over Tabby and the baby being in danger into a wall of wind and hurl it toward the remaining dozen Anarki. It sweeps the lobby furniture, then begins whipping bodies into its frenzied funnel cloud. Hopefully, it will hold for the precious seconds Tabby needs to escape.
Luck is on our side. We rush out, into the winter dusk. I grip her in my protective embrace and think of Ice’s caves in Wales.
A few disorienting moments later, we hover outside Rykard’s dwelling on the windswept rocks overlooking the sea.
Tabby staggers, nearly falling to her knees. I haul her upright, holding her steady. We both pant with exhaustion.
“It’s safe here,” I murmur. “Let’s get inside.”
