Page 52 of Phantom’s Mate

Everyone stopped.

That was Nick’s cue.

Stomping on the gas, he drove the SUV right through the battlefield, combatants on both sides diving out of his way.

He had to give the merc leader props for having balls—he stood his ground and shot straight at the SUV’s windshield. The glass spiderwebbed, and Nick ducked, feeling a few stray shards of glass slicing the skin of his face.

“Brace!” Nick called to Britt, and slammed on the brakes. Yanking up the emergency, he hoisted himself out of the seat and shoulder-rolled through the shattered windshield.

Britt was trying to cover him, shooting from the SUV, but she couldn’t aim everywhere at once. Two bullets hit him as he launched himself off the hood onto the merc leader—one like a sledgehammer in his vest, and the other in his thigh.

He ignored them both. His entire focus was on the gleaming gold wristband. Using all the strength lent to him by the magic that had called the spirits to war, he slammed the leader in the face with his elbow and wrestled the bracelet off his wrist.

Two more bullets hit him. He was bleeding like a stuck pig from his thigh—he was afraid that bullet might have nicked an artery.

But he couldn’t worry about that now—the women and kids were still trapped in the burning barn. He could hear their screams of terror.

Using the magical amplification of the artifact, he yelled, “Spirits of the dead, I free you! Your will is your own—do as you choose!” He repeated the Draken word the merc leader had used, hoping like hell he got it right.

All the spirits froze… and then slowly turned to look at the mercenaries. With feral yowls and snarls, they attacked the invaders.

The mercenaries broke under the assault. Their leader was unconscious, and their supernatural allies had turned against them. They ran for the woods, followed by the spirits.

The defending panthers let them go, running to fight the fire in the barn.

“Open the back doors!” someone yelled.

“No!” came a reply. “The extra oxygen will cause a backdraft! The whole place will go!”

“We have to get them out!”

Nick, his strength waning, reached in his pocket and touched the amulet.

DB, where the hell are you?

And in his head a voice said, Here.

From inside the SUV Britt saw a sparkling magic rip open in the sky, and through it flew DB’s black dragon, scales glinting in the sun. He dove for the barn, bullets bouncing off his armored hide.

Everyone on the ground scattered. DB landed by the burning barn, took a deep breath—and inhaled the flames. He continued to suck flames in, his gullet moving as he swallowed the fire gulp by gulp.

With a blow of his barbed tail, he broke down more of the wall, and then thrust his huge wing into the building and smothered the rest of the fire, smoke billowing out from underneath.

Finally, he puffed out his cheeks and blew the smoke away.

The defenders unbarred the doors. Women and children stumbled out of the barn, coughing, tears running down their faces. As the men ran towards them, Britt clambered out of the SUV and ran over to Nick, sliding to her knees as she reached him.

The first thing she saw was blood.

He was bleeding from half a dozen wounds, and there was a pool of it next to his right thigh. His face was chalk-white. He raised a hand to her face.

“If this is the last thing I ever see,” he said, “it was all worth it.”

No. This could not be happening. She found the wound and put pressure on it, trying to stop the bleeding. “You are not dying. You hear me? You’re going to hold on until this freaking thing wears off and you’re a spirit again.”

“No time. Lost… too much blood.”

“Dammit!” she yelled, panicking. “You can’t die! Not like this. You can’t just be… gone.”