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The second was Phelps, lying on his back, still breathing, but staring at nothing. He had no visible wounds, but a million motes floated around him, as if unwilling to put themselves back inside that vessel.

And the last was a tiny, demonic-looking thing. Erlik.

A howl rose at the edge of the yard, a chorus joining in song.

The sound crawled up my spine. It wasn’t a wolf’s howl, but the kind of sound that made the grass go still and ice weight the air.

At first, I thought they might be hellhounds, but these were bigger. Black as a new moon night. They moved like shadows given legs, their paws barely touching the ground. They emerged from the dark as if given life from cold and darkness itself, sneaking forward to circle the smoldering wreckage of Erlik’s unraveling.

Sergeant Hanna stepped out of another folded shadow, glowing with ethereal light and bending magic. I had to glance away, her weave burned my eyes, leaving jagged color blots and blind spots in my vision. For the first time I saw her as Angel had warned many times, the scariest creature I’d ever met. Dark fae, goddess of the hunt, and still probably my boss.

The hounds closed in, tearing into Erlik as if he were an extra meaty bone, and I flinched, having to look away from the noise. Gross. The last of the nightmare came apart in a spray of ash and shadow, and when it was over, the hounds sat back on their haunches, panting, their muzzles stained with dark ooze.

Hanna nodded, as if pleased, then turned her attention to Phelps.

She raised one hand, and the motes floating around him shuddered. Then they moved, drawn toward her palm like iron filings to a magnet. They swirled once, twice, and then condensed into a small, glowing orb no bigger than a marble. Hanna produced a glass vial from somewhere in her coat, and dropped the orb inside. She sealed it with a twist of her fingers and tucked it away.

Then she took a step our way.

Well fuck, were we next?

The hounds slunk off into the dark, vanishing as fast as they’d arrived, and Hanna stood over Phelps, studying him as if she would a bug, though her magic edges seeped away like they’d been stuffed into a box. Glamour, I realized, as I tried to watch without burning my retinas out of my head.

“You going to close that tear,” she asked, not looking at me, “or are you waiting for an invitation?”

I blinked. Looked up at the pulsing purple heart of the otherworld still beating overhead. The tear was still there, wider than ever, monsters still crawling through, Victor’s team beating them back, but we were all running on fumes.

“That’s on me too? Fuck my life.” I grumbled and went to work, thankful Zhenjun was already there.

Because the sooner this was over, the sooner I could find my way back to Angel. And that was worth every frayed thread of my existence.

50

ANGEL

I pressed myself to Jude’s side. He was alive. Real. Warm. And I could touch him.

After weeks of passing through him, of watching my hand slip through his shoulder like mist, of reaching for him and finding nothing—I could finally, actually, touch him.

I didn’t plan to ever let anyone take him from me again. Our bond flared with heat and magic; unlike anything I’d experienced since we’d become mates. A completed connection—and him something not quite human anymore.

Jude gave me a guilty half smile. I tilted my head at him, gaze darting from him to the continued chaos of the tear, unwilling to shift back to human until I knew the danger had passed.

“We’re all a little tired,” he said, waving a hand at our team, who had shifted from attacking Erlik to herding monsters back across the tear. “But I need a bit of help stitching that closed.” He grimaced at Zhenjun, who was already working a small edge shut. “More help. Because apparently, I’m the only one who got the ‘fix reality’ memo, and the universe didn’t think to send more backup than the overworked Marshall and a guy who’s been mostly dead all day.”

I chuffed at him, willing to do whatever he needed, but it wasn’t like I could close the tear.

“Do you sense them like I do?” he asked, his gaze roaming over the space beyond the house. “Because this is going to be a huge deal. Like international news. Probably trending on social media. Hashtag Veilpocalypse.”

I chuffed again, and shifted to human form as Jude staggered, catching him.

His eyebrows shot up. “Well, that’s distracting.”

“Eyes up, pretty boy,” I teased, not caring at all that I was nude and happy to see my mate alive. “You have a tear to close.”

“Right. About that. Sorry.” He touched my cheek, palm resting there as he pressed his lips to mine. The kiss started off sweet and gentle, but fed into the desperation of us missing each other for weeks, hungry and demanding. Our bond lit up like a beacon, blinding even through my closed lids, magic zipping through us in a wild loop of blazing energy.

Jude groaned against my mouth, and I felt him try to focus. His fingers curled into my hair, holding me close, and for one reckless heartbeat, I thought he might just say fuck it and keep kissing me until the sky fell.