“Barely grazed his shoulder,” he mutters. “I knew what I was doing.”
“You can’t go around shooting people, but especially not one of the horsemen.”
Gabe’s face falls. “But if he really was that powerful, why would he let me shoot him or tie him up?” Gabe crouches beside me, wincing as he offers me a knife to cut the bonds.
I snatch it from his hand and saw at the rough cords. “You’re such a freaking idiot.”
Before I’ve freed him entirely, Leonid and Izzy tear down the drive, the tires of the black sportscar skidding across the gravel to finally come to a stop. Leonid dives out of the driver’s side. “Stop!”
I freeze, only two thin strands of rope standing between Xolotl and freedom. “Why?”
“Baba Yaga says something shifted.” He peers at Xolotl. “She said. . .” He crouches down next to Xolotl.
And then Leonid’s flung a hundred yards away, sprawling back across the gravel.
“Yep,” I say. “That’s him.” I saw the last two strands, curious why he didn’t immediately murder my brother. Maybe he knew Gabe was my brother? That’s probably delusional. That knowledge would probably motivate him to kill Gabe faster.
Xolotl yanks the gag out of his mouth. “As I tried to tell your brother before I let him tie me up, I’ve retired from being a horseman.”
“Retired?” Leonid’s back on his feet, and he’s stalking our way. “Then go enjoy your life, and leave us alone.”
My massive horseman—er, retired horseman—stands up, and he’s easily got half a foot on the tall Leonid. “I can’t leave. The reason I retired is standing right here.” He smiles at me, and it’s the cutest, most tentative thing I’ve ever seen. “I came back for you, Whitney.”
Leonid punches his arm through the air, and Xolotl flies off the porch.
He twists mid-air and lands on his feet like a cat, though. “My patience is wearing thin,” Xolotl says. “I’ve been shot and tied up, so I don’t recommend you keep attacking.”
“Sorry about that,” Gabe says. “Misunderstanding.” He shifts his head. “And hey, looks like that gunshot wound’s already healed up.” He nods his head and smiles. “Pretty cool.”
Leonid hits Xolotl again, this time with a lightning bolt.
It looks like it kind of rattles Xolotl’s teeth, and he leaps up the stairs swinging, literally. One uppercut to Leonid’s jaw sends him sprawling down the way Xolotl came, and by the time he hits the ground, he’s also on fire.
Three more cars tear around the corner and spin, skidding down our driveway. Leonid’s security detail, I assume. But it’s not nondescript Russian enforcers who climb out. No, it’s Alexei Romanov—hot as ever—who jumps from the driver’s side and immediately streams water at Leonid to put out the fire, I presume. Moments later, the burns on my brother-in-law’s body are gone too, though his clothes are still smoking.
“This feels like the Twilight Zone,” Izzy hisses, walking up the porch to stand beside me. “Your evil murder-horse fell in love?” She’s smiling. “You didn’t mention that part.”
“He’s not in love with me,” I say. “He hated me. He’s probably here because he’s pissed we put him to sleep.”
“Correction.” Xolotl steps up the stairs slowly, one step at a time.
The horse shifters we helped subdue Leonid, or at least, the shifters who tried to subdue Leonid, continue to climb out of cars. Once they’re all out, they start to attack. More lightning from Leonid. Wind from the burly Grigoriy, and ice shards from Alexei. Aleksandr’s the last to engage, swirling strands of earth in tornado-esque formations that claw their way toward a very distracted Xolotl.
“I came for you.” Xolotl’s still looking at me entreatingly.
But he’s also batting the sequence of attacks out of the way, seemingly without thinking. I can’t even tell how he’s blocking them, but he keeps on coming toward me, never looking away. “Your family hates me, and I can’t blame them for that.” He smiles again, and it’s tentative. It reminds me of a duckling, going out for the first time on the lake. “But your sister’s right. I’m here because I fell in love with you, Whitney. Actually, it’s more than that. My feelings for you were so strong, so profound that they changed who I am.”
“Yeah, right,” I say. “The only thing less likely than you retiring as a horseman is you changing. Men don’t change for women.”
“I can’t speak to what most men do,” Xolotl says, “but you changed me fundamentally. I have a bright, pulsing golden thread in my soul now.”
Leonid freezes.
So do the others.
“What did he say?” Izzy asks.
My brother-in-law swears under his breath. “I see it,” Leonid says. “He’s telling the truth.”
