Emma’s stomach dropped.
“Lionfish venom’s a nasty thing,” the assassin continued, still smiling that awful smile. “Especially with a little something extra mixed in to hide the symptoms. You’re already dead, Steele. You just don’t know it.”
“You’re lying.” Zach’s voice lacked conviction. His knife hand trembled, almost imperceptibly.
No.
No, no, no.
The assassin laughed. “We learn from our mistakes. You were too fast on the beach, so we had to find a way to slow you down.” He glanced at Zach’s cut arm. “You were sloppy, letting a blade cut you. Now you’ll pay the price.”
Zach shook his head, blinking rapidly, as if trying to clear it.
The assassin’s eyes slid to Emma again. “Don’t worry about your woman, though. Once you’re gone, I’ll takeverygood care of her.”
Zach drove the knife forward with a snarl of pure rage.
The assassin twisted, breaking free, his hand finding a rock on the ground.
“No!” the Windstone pulsed in her hand. She lifted the artifact; warmth spread from her palms up her arms, into her chest. The ancient symbols carved into its surface blazed with light, and the air in the cave shifted.
Protect him,she begged.Protect Zach.
The wind answered.
Power surged through her, burning in her veins. Wind exploded through the chamber with the fury of a hurricane, loud enough to drown out the storm outside.
The assassin flew off his feet and slammed into the far wall with bone-crushing force. Stone cracked. Dust filled the air. He crumpled to the ground, gasping, blood trickling from his nose and ears.
The wind died as abruptly as it had risen.
Emma stared at her hands, at the Windstone now shimmering softly between her palms. She’d done that.
She’ddone that.
On purpose.
“Emma.”
Zach’s voice pulled her back. He was moving toward the assassin, but his gait was uneven, halting. Each step looked like it cost him.
The assassin struggled to get up, dazed but not unconscious. Still dangerous. Still a threat.
Zach reached him as the man’s hand closed around another weapon—a small blade hidden in his boot. Zach kicked it away, grabbed the assassin by the throat, and lifted him off his feet with one hand.
For a moment, Emma thought he might choke the life out of him right there. Zach’s face was a mask of cold fury, his muscles corded with tension.
His grip faltered.
For a second, but it was enough.
The assassin drove his knee into Zach’s stomach, twisted free, and lunged for the knife on the ground.
No.
She started forward, but Zach was faster. Even injured, with whatever was affecting him—he wasfaster.
A knife appeared in his hand. One precise strike. Clean. Efficient. Final. The assassin dropped, blood pooling on the ancient stone.
