As I slid my earpiece into place, I saw him motion for Seri and Foster. They stood near the door, Brummy against Seri’s leg, his eyes alert. I tried not to focus on how small our girl looked at that moment. Not because she was physically small, but because the magnitude of what we were facing madeeverythingseem small.
Zane handed Foster a comms unit, and Cas gently brushed our beloved’s curls away from her ear to place hers.
“Check.” He stroked his gloved finger down the side of her face, her gray eyes locked with his.
“Check,” Foster said, adjusting his own unit.
“Check,” Seri echoed, her voice steady despite her stiff shoulders.
“Check,” I murmured.
“Loud and pretty,” Zane smirked. “Just like me.”
Ignoring him, Cas moved to the far side of the armory, where a sleek titanium safe was embedded in the wall. He entered the code, and the door slid open with a whisper. From inside, he withdrew what looked like an ordinary shield charm, dull bronze with faded markings, but the power emanating from it was anything but ordinary. Teleport charm. One of only a handful in existence.
“Isaac Black’s payment,” he explained to Seri and Foster. “For our help with a demon incursion in New York City three years ago. Where we met Angelo and Emerson del Vecchio.”
“One-time use,” Zane added. “Gets us there, but not back. Wish we had another in case you need us fast at Scary Central.”
“Kaori’s got that covered,” Seri said, surprising us. “One of her nephilim friends is a messenger who drove close enough to the farm yesterday to be able to teleport to the end of the driveway. He’s waiting to see if he’s needed at Papa’s or King Julian’s. Either way, he’ll be on hand if…”
“Yeah.If.” Zane took a deep breath and let it out fast.
Another beep from Cas’ phone cut through the room. He checked it, then looked up, eyes sharp.
“Portal opening outside the werewolf king’s gates.”
We exchanged glances. This was it. All the planning, all the preparation, it would either be enough or it wouldn’t.
I crossed the room to where my combat shotgun rested against the wall. This time, I wouldn’t be carrying it. I grabbed it and the special yellow cartridge I’d prepared months ago: Ocean salt, cold iron filings, silver flecks, and, most potent of all, the crushed scale shed by ahonu. I’d dived forty feet into Molokini’s crush depth for that scale, bubbles streaming from my nose as the ancient sea turtle watched me with patient eyes. Its approval still warmed me when I thought of it.
I crossed to Foster and held up the cartridge.
“For Arabesque’s face, and only if it comes down to it.”
I held his eyes for a long moment. When he nodded, I knew he understood the significance well enough and handed him both the shotgun and the shell.
“Time to go,” Cas said at last.
The hardest part came next. Saying goodbye to Seri, knowing it might be the last time. Knowing what she was about to face at her old home. The place where she’d been abused, siphoned, treated as less than nothing. My chest ached with the need to go with her, but our beloved was strong. Stronger than any of us had known when we found her.
Cas kissed her first, taking her face in his hands with a tenderness few outside of us ever saw from him. Then he dropped his forehead to hers, their eyes locking as wordless promises passed between them.
Zane went next, his usual quips abandoned for once. He pulled her into a fierce hug, lifting her off of her feet as he nuzzled her neck, then set her down and kissed her hard and fast.
“Don’t you dare die,” he rasped.
Finally, it was my turn. I held her hands and tried to memorize everything about this moment. The softness of her skin, the steady beat of her pulse, the clear determination in her gray eyes.
“Koko,” she breathed.
I reached to my belt and pulled my favorite dagger, the one that bore her name, the letters flowing like waves across the smooth surface. I closed her fingers around the handle.
“Only as a last defense, sweet girl. Remember everything we’ve been teaching you.”
She nodded, holding the dagger close, and rocked up on her tiptoes to brush her lips against mine.
“You’re stronger than you think, Serafina,” I whispered, drawing her into a hug.
