“It’s untested on witches,” I countered. “And it’s geared toward eliminating Dark magic, not Diabolical influences.”
“Dark magicisDiabolical!”
He had a point, and I clenched my jaw in frustration. I wanted Seri safe, but I couldn’t bear the thought of causing her more pain.
“Caladrius tincture,” Cas said in his ‘Don’t test me’ tone.
The kitchen went silent. Even Mrs. Wentzel, pure human as far as I knew, although obviously aware of the supernatural world, stopped and stared at him.
The tincture was a miracle in a bottle. A single caladrius tear mixed with several equally rare components. Designed to purge everything harmful, heal any injuries, and forcibly reset the body’s energy. Worked in under a minute and had no side effects, although it literally burned going down. Worth a fortune, and we only had one of them.
“It’s going to hurt like hell, Cas!” I snapped, but Zane was already gone. “Way worse than the wyrmwood and starlight!”
“It’s fast and a guaranteed cleanse and heal.” Cas didn’t look at me, laser-focused on Seri. “And we have no margin for error.”
Zane was back before I could form another protest. In his hands, he held a tiny glass bottle containing what looked like a cloud flecked with pearl and opal. Without a moment’s hesitation, Cas grabbed it and removed the stopper. The scent hit me immediately: Petrichor, winter starlight, and something so pure and good, it stirred the hair on my arms.
“Hold her,” Cas ordered.
I cradled Seri’s head in my palms, tilting it back slightly.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Zane leaned down to whisper in her ear as his palm stroked her hair back. “This is gonna hurt, but only for a minute. It’s gonna make you better, baby.”
As gently as I could, I popped Seri’s jaw open with my thumbs, and Cas tipped the tincture into her mouth. The liquid sang as it flowed, a high, clear note that resonated through the kitchen. Zane involuntarily warbled out a few answering notes of swan song. Any other time, I would have teased him mercilessly, but not now.
The effect was instantaneous and terrifying. Seri’s limp body stiffened as if electrified, her back arching off the island as a fiery glow surrounded her. Then something hissed as if water was hitting hot metal. Shadows stinking of Dark magic writhed off her skin like smoke escaping a fire, twisting and dissipating in the air.
“Night’s moon-damned teeth and bat’s fang-rotted bones!” Zane shouted, taking a step back.
“Sanguine mortis,” Cas breathed.
“Cruor,” I mumbled, still holding her head.
“Fucking hell.” Mrs. Wentzel’s eyes darted around as if she couldn’tquitesee the shadows, but sensed their presence.
And Seri gasped, a desperate inhale as if she’d been drowning and finally broke the surface, although her eyes remained closed.
Just then, Addison raced into the kitchen, the wheels of Seri’s med kit skidding across the marble floor as he dragged it along behind him. Brumous trotted at his heels, tail wagging slightly as he scented his people. When the wolf saw us gathered around Seri, he let out a curious whine, but then his eyes locked on the dissolving shadows. Attack mode engaged in his fractured brain. Using Zane’s back as a springboard, he launched himself at the shadows with a subsonic growl that rattled the pans in the cupboards.
“Whoa, whoa!” Zane caught the wolf mid-leap, wrestling him away from Seri’s vulnerable form, Brummy’s claws tearing up his arms and chest. “Easy, buddy!”
The wolf roared as Zane wrestled him to the floor and, even grounded, his eyes stayed locked on the shadows sloughing off our beloved like a snake shedding its skin.
“He keeps shouting, ‘Dark, Dark, kill all Dark,’ ” Zane grunted, and Addison rushed forward to help, whispering soothing words as he took hold of Brumous’ collar and pulled him back, his skinny arms straining against the wolf’s fury and strength.
As Mrs. Wentzel snapped a dishtowel through the air as if to clear smoke and Seri’s breathing settled, Cas and I exchanged glances.
“They almost got her,” I whispered.
Black blotted out his green irises and his fangs dropped as the monster inside him peered out.
“Not now, Casimir,” I warned, my voice as deadly as I had ever made it. “Not the time. Not when Seri needs us.”
He quirked his head just slightly to the left, and something infinitesimal shifted between us, two alphas negotiating territory. The leash on his monster, fraying…
Then a whisper, so faint that even my dhampir ears almost missed it, froze us both.
“Simmy? Koko? Zoodle?”
