“I’ve translated the entire journal, but we must hurry. I’ll go up and grab the stone.” He ran out of the office, and Ivor followed, not even bothering to stop and grab a coat because a terrible screeching sound was coming from outside. Xavier passed the elevator and ran fast up the stairwell.
Ivor burst outside to find the draugr throwing itself against the invisible wards. Emory, Dax, and a few of the other bodyguards all spilled outside before Rowan did as well. He stayed by the door, but he met Ivor’s gaze and fear had widened his eyes.
Ivor pulled his daggers.
This spurred everyone but Rowan into movement. Emory shot up into the air. Dax ran toward the draugr, and the other bodyguards began to circle it. It didn’t pay any of them any attention, its focus zeroed in on Rowan even though he was no longer wearing the arm band.
Though Ivor knew the draugr couldn’t get to Rowan, fear still burned inside him.
Emory came back down, landing a kick to the side of the draugr’s head. It hissed and turned just as Dax grabbed its one remaining arm. Looked like he was trying to rip it off, but the creature misted away from him and reappeared behind him. Dax was quicker than he looked, spinning out of its reach just asEmory landed another well-placed kick—this time to the back of its head.
Ivor raced toward it, daggers still drawn, pausing only when it turned those empty eye sockets his way. Its head was tilted because it must have been using hearing to pinpoint where everyone was. That was his guess anyway. He leaped forward and slashed at it, planning to take its other arm, which would leave it relatively harmless until Xavier could work the spell.
It spun away from him, misted, but he was ready when it reappeared to his right. He jumped in the air and whirled, bringing one of his daggers down and stabbing it through the chest. A chunk of dried, leathery skin hit the asphalt. But he yanked his dagger out and brought both in from the sides, aiming for the draugr’s neck.
It misted again before his blades met their target.
This time, he felt it solidify right behind him, bony fingers grabbing his shoulder. He dove away from it and rolled to his feet as Emory leaped and came down, kicking the draugr so hard it staggered back.
Xavier ran outside and threw up his hands. He began to chant in another language, and the draugr spun toward him.
Everyone was momentarily still.
Xavier chanted loudly, and the draugr began to fade, obviously caught in the spell.
Ivor looked at Rowan, saw his fear, and something inside him just…settled. He looked back at the draugr, which despite the spell holding it, was slowly turning its head toward Rowan.
It would never give up—he knew that with his entire soul. In that moment, he made a decision. Ivor didn’t want it trapped. No matter how strong the spell, there would always be the chance that the draugr would escape. That it would come for Rowan again. And Rowan would always live in fear of that moment, his anxiety fueled by the inevitability of that day.
He took advantage of its preoccupation, took a running leap, and sliced both daggers through the air, his aim deadly.
He lopped off its fucking head.
The head rolled under a car in the parking lot, the body collapsing to the asphalt.
Ivor stood there, breathing hard, watching the body though he knew it no longer carried a spark of life. It was just a macabre heap of old flesh, bone and ragged clothes.
The relief he felt in knowing Rowan was safe was so powerful, his knees felt loose.
Xavier crossed the parking lot and stopped next to him, shaking his head. “You know I planned to track it back to the lich, right?”
“I don’t give a shit,” Ivor said, not sorry in the least. “It was never going to stop coming after Rowan. I know you planned to do something with that arm ring, planned to let the draugr back out and follow it. But Rowan isn’t wearing the ring now, and its focus was still on him. It would have come straight back to him.” Ivor glared at Xavier. “You can be mad at me. You can fire me. I’m not sorry. Rowan comes first.”
Xavier gave him a faint smile and nod. “As he should.” He looked down at the nephrite before slipping it into his pocket. Then he walked to the draugr and searched the body. “The stones aren’t on it, so they’ve been stashed, and there’s no way for us to know where. I can destroy the arm ring—have it melted down—but without the stones, the lich will still be in some state of life. Without all the pieces, though, it shouldn’t be able to truly live again.”
“So, it’ll be stuck in some kind of stasis?” Ivor asked.
“Yes. It will basically be trapped in only part of an existence. A literal hell, so to speak.”
“Is there no spell to track the gems?”
Xavier shook his head. “They are lost to us. We can only destroy what we have. It will be enough.”
Ivor finally looked at Rowan, who was leaning against the door, relief in every part of his relaxed frame. Sheathing his daggers as he walked to him, Ivor couldn’t help the swell of elation he felt in having killed the draugr. He didn’t care about the lich. It could hang in suspended animation for an eternity. All he cared about was right here in front of him, looking at him as if he’d hung the moon.
“Thank you,” Rowan said softly. “I knew I was scared this whole time, but I hadn’t realized just how much. Thank you so much. I know Xavier didn’t want it killed, but…” He paused and glanced at Xavier, who was now walking toward the door. “But I’m still glad. It got out before, so I was afraid it would again.”
“So was I,” Ivor answered as he took Rowan into his arms and whispered against his neck, “I want you safe. Completely safe.”
