A tug of war raged in my heart, the little girl frantic she might lose her father raging against the woman who had accepted he was a curse and not a blessing in her life. The easiest thing wouldbe to do nothing. Mercer killed him. We could prove it, if we recovered enough of the bomb to match it to the ones his people had set in Brentwood. But could I live with myself if I allowed Carmichael to die?
“Let’s find out if he’s dead or alive.” Seamus stared down into my eyes. “Then you can decide what to do with him.”
Coward that I was, I was too grateful to argue the point. He swept me away, and I was happy for someone else to take the lead and make the decisions. Frail as my link was to Carmichael now, I struggled to point the way, and I kept seeing Sloane’s battered face in my mind. I felt the slap of his hand across my cheek, the sting as real as if he had just lowered his hand. Every ache and pain, every cut and bite, every sharp word or cold glance. Those snippets flashed before my eyes like the final moments before death.
Had his life been reduced to a list of crimes against others, no one who heard it would pardon him.
“There.” Seamus indicated a smoking crater. “That’s got to be it.”
Dane ran ahead, touched the earth, then threw out a hand. “Stand back, all of you.”
“They’re still hot,” I realized, noticing the dense rock at his feet, which would store heat. “Let me help.”
Had I believed, for one second, Carmichael could survive those temperatures, the glance Dane shared with Seamus, and then me, confirmed only a dragon could hope to walk away from the oven Mercer created with his explosion.
Before my brain caught up to my body, I had palmed a large stone and hurled it aside. As it clattered several feet away, I reached for the next and the next and the next. I dug and scrabbled and cursed as my fingernails tore.
Only once I stood knee-deep in a hole of my own making did the filament bonding me to Carmichael Sartori since my earliest memories…
…break.
I sucked in deep gulps of air, but I couldn’t choke down enough oxygen. I radiated pain, shuddered with tremors, and fire crackled across my skin in response.
“We have to get her to Rían.” Dane, who was fireproof, caught me before my knees hit stone and lifted me in his arms. “She’ll go into shock if she doesn’t get clan support ASAP.”
“Hold on.” Seamus whipped out his phone. “He can fly here faster than we can drive her.”
Heat crackled and hissed, engulfing me, and my dragon did her best to explode from my chest and wrap me in her protective embrace.
“Fuck.” Dane set me down fast and stumbled back. “She’s too hot. I can’t touch her.”
“Hold on, Ana.” Seamus ventured as close as he dared. “Rían will be here soon.”
“Dad…” I wet my lips, and they split open. “He’s…”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Seamus knelt, head bent. “Truly.”
He meant it. He regretted my pain. He respected my confusion.
But he was relieved Carmichael was dead. He made no attempt to hide that from me. Perhaps he was simply grateful that I hadn’t had to kill him, through words or deeds, myself.
I shouldn’t be so upset. I had known this was coming. Hadn’t I? How else could it have ended? There was no other way to make him back down. He wouldn’t have quit coming after me. Eventually, I would have ended up like my parents. And, when he was done with me, Carmichael might have set his sights on the others. Fayne, Rían, and Liam would have made for difficult targets, but Goldie…
I would have killed him without an ounce of hesitation or remorse if he had laid a hand on her.
And that made the conflict squirming within me that much harder to reconcile.
As my thoughts chased one another in circles, I huddled deeper and deeper into myself, ignoring the chaos unspooling around me.
“Ana.”
Time lurched forward again at the sound of my name, but I couldn’t find it in me to answer.
Hands grabbed at me, ripping me from my spiral, and voices mashed together into one soothing tone.
A weightless sensation swamped me as I was lifted and carried away to where a cool breeze kissed my skin, and then grassy dew was soaking through my pants.
“I’m here, bestie.” Sloane pulled my legs across her lap. “You’re going to be fine, okay?”
