Sweet, familiar power filled the air between us. The spell I’d muttered in my last throes of wakefulness had done its job, the water on the ground soaking into their boots and pants and then instantly freezing. It wasn’t particularly clever, but it was sufficient.
The spell held them in place, but it wouldn’t last for long. My power to cast was weakened by the lack of connection to my coven. While my active power did not yet seem to be affected, I was not going to take a chance on the efficacy of my spells.
This was my opportunity to get away. I clambered over the tree roots, not caring about how much noise I made. I had to put as much distance between myself and my attackers as possible.
My muscles groaned, still not recovered from the Mercy Gate. But once I was free of the tree roots, I could run. Run where, I didn’t pause to think. More ice cracked and in the next second, a huge mass fell upon me, crushing me to the ground.
I braced myself for the pain, expecting the sword to pierce my flesh at any second.
Nash’s fetid breath clouded my senses, but then I felt it, pressed not to my side, but to the back of my neck where he’d pinned me down in the snow. The threat was clear, but I had no choice. I could not get my hands free, but I could still speak. I turned my face up so I could watch while my spell eviscerated him.
“Where you stand upon the ground, let water?—”
He slapped me across the face, knocking the words of my spell loose before I could finish.
“I said—I don’t want to kill you.” So much forwe. I could still hear Rilk a few yards back, free now of my spell, but making no attempt to join us. Nursing his wound, most likely.
“Then get your blade off my neck,” I hissed. His hand remained poised above my face, ready to hit me again. Even if I tried, I would not be able to turn my face away into the snow fast enough. And I’d never get an entire spell out.
“Soon.” He shifted his weight above me. “Rilk, get over here.”
Dark God spare me, he stank. When was the last time he’d cleaned his teeth? Ever? When I was human, the rich had prided themselves on extensive, expensive bathing rituals. Things could not have changedthatmuch in three hundred years.
“What do you say,” he said, shifting again. This time, an elbow landed hard in my back.
“I say get the fuck off of me,” I bit out. There had to be a way to get him off. Spells spun through my brain. If I could get him talking, maybe I could whisper one beneath my breath. Or if he turned again, I could get a hand free.
“Such a vicious mouth,” Nash laughed, leaning in closer. My stomach turned at the rancid stench of his breath. “But that’s what I like about you. I want to see just how good you are with it.”
Cold shot through me that had nothing to do with my power.
“I want one of those clever little spells—well, not just one,” Nash said. He shifted so that his knees bracketed my waist. My left hand was underneath my leg. If he leaned forward just a bit more?—
Metal sang through the air. Instead of moving, Nash froze, as surely as if he’d been turned to ice.
A voice just as cold spoke from the darkness behind us.
“Your friend is dead. And if you do not do exactly as I say, you will be, too.”
CHAPTER 21
Rilk was dead.I had been so preoccupied with my own survival, I had not even noticed. I certainly shouldn’t care. I should have killed him myself. Instead of running, I should have sent spears of ice into their hearts. Tendrils of frost through their mouths and noses to freeze their blood in their very veins.
I’d done it before. I would do it again.
But my stomach twisted once more, and this time it was not from the stench of Nash’s breath.
“Release her.”
Nash hissed through his teeth, the metal of his sword still flush against the back of my neck. But Garrick must have had his own blade pressed somewhere vital on Nash because he withdrew. I did not take another full breath until both his weight and that sword were gone; I did not trust Nash not to accidentally stab me with it and kill all three of us.
I hardly felt the burn in my tired muscles as I got my knees beneath me and pushed up to stand. The relief of freedom was so heady it wiped away everything else.
Until I caught sight of the two men behind me.
Garrick had grabbed one of Nash’s arms, twisting it behind him. Nash’s sword stuck out of the snow several feet away.One of the curved blades from Garrick’s bandolier pressed into Nash’s jugular. It was hard to tell over the flood of Rilk’s blood, but I thought I detected the hint of a different tang. Garrick had already drawn blood.
Something I did not want to acknowledge as admiration spread through my chest. Garrick the Red was human, but he moved faster than any being I’d ever encountered. I was an immortal, and despite my active power and a thousand spells, I had never felt as powerful as I sensed him to be in that moment.
