“This is what is causing you pain.” It’s not a question. The certainty in his voice is my only hope. He’ll find a way to turn it off. He has to. Or I’m afraid this time, I won’t find my way back again.
Gabriel
In my arms, Willow shudders. Her eyes cloud over, pupils blown wide. I only found her because of the strange specter floatingat the edge of the alley. When the being saw me, it wrapped its fingers around my arm and pulled me into the darkness between buildings.
But as soon as Willow screamed, it lost its corporeal form, and now…it’s gone. Blood streams from the wound below her collarbone. I can sensesomethingunderneath my palm. But though I have the knowledge of several millennia of existence, I do not know what to do to help her.
Nor do I have time to waste. Her consciousness is fading once more. Whoever controls this device is sending her back into the void. Deeper and deeper with every second that passes.
Pulling her closer, I press my lips to the shell of her ear. “Fight them,deliciae. Hold on for me.” There is only one place I can go.
At the last moment, I remember my promise to Sinclair and Zoe. I cannot simply appear in the center of the penthouse. So I focus on the hallway outside their door.
My power sends us there in an instant, but the late hour, my aching wings, and the burden of carrying another with me—twice—conspire to send me to my knees. I barely manage to hold on to the precious human in my arms.
“Sinclair!” I roar as I stagger to my feet. “Open the bloody door! Now!” Punctuating my demand with three swift kicks to the reinforced wood, I pray the penthouse is not completely soundproofed.
Willow’s keening cry shatters my control. It is so much more than mere pain. She is in agony. Not only her body, but her spirit. Her soul. She knows what is happening to her. Whatever this void is, she is desperate to never go back there again.
The door swings open. “Gabriel, you bastard—fuck.” The incubus is shirtless, wearing only a pair of silk pajama pants. Hundreds of scars criss-cross his chest, a particularly recent one still red and angry at his side.
“Help me.” I push past him, striding for the living room and one of the soft leather couches.
“Oh my God!” Zoe rushes down the hall, buttoning one of Sinclair’s dress shirts over her naked body. “Who is she? And what?—”
“T-t-ten,” Willow whimpers. Her muscles seize, and she lets out a weak wail.
“There is somethinginsideher. Here.” I rip at her tank top, exposing more of the wound. “Whatever it is…if we do not remove it, she will end up in a void—a place she will not be able to escape for God knows how long.”
“Move,” Sinclair snaps.
He has a thin kitchen knife in his hand, along with a bottle of scotch. Using his teeth, he uncorks the alcohol, then pours some over the blade. “Hold her down, Gabriel. This will hurt her.”
“No!” My roar rattles the windows, and a vase of flowers above the fireplace tumbles to the floor and shatters. “I will do it. Imustdo it. Zoe, can you hold her?”
I do not know why, but the idea of Sinclair cutting into Willow angers me. She is mine to protect, and there is nothing I will not do to keep her safe.
“Have it your way, then. I’ll call Maddox. Killian may have some knowledge of…”
His words fade away as the sound of my own heartbeat fills my ears. My hands shake.
I must focus.
Having my fingers under a human’s skin is not one of the experiences I expected to have in this realm—or ever care to repeat. As gently as I can, I slide the knife into her flesh. She is too far gone to notice the pain.
“She is fading.” The words scrape over the lump in my throat. Fear’s oily presence slithers along my spine. The tip of the bladehits something metallic. Thank fuck. With a flick of my wrist, a small disc slides out from under her muscle.
Wires snake from the little device. I cannot simply rip them from her body. I could sever something…vital. But I cut them from the little disc with the knife. Her muscles go slack.
Fuck. Was I too slow? Is she trapped in the void? Or merely unconscious? Precious seconds tick by as I search for her spirit—for the smallest spark of her soul. When I find it, it’s so faint, I fear she could die at any moment.
“Gabriel?” Zoe touches my arm. “She’s still bleeding. We need a healer.”
“The wires must be removed as well,” Sin adds. “I will call one of the mages. But give me that disc. Something that size…it could have a tracking chip and my wards will only hide us for so long.”
I drop the device into his hand. “What can I do for her?”
Zoe passes me a thick, black towel. “Press down on the wound. It’ll slow the bleeding. But be careful. You’re strong enough, you could snap her bones without even trying.”
