The angle gave me a clear view of Midas, crumpled in the grass, with Remy standing over him.
A few pack members kept an eye on her as she watched over him, but they didn’t risk getting any closer.
“Natisha.” I forced myself to block out the sight of him. “I’m giving you one last chance to stop this.”
Eyes holding mine before they closed, she lifted her chant higher in response.
She had come too far to back down now.
Pride wouldn’t allow her to stop before she got what she wanted, the rest of us be damned.
“Ambrose.” I waited for him to appear. “Drain off as much of their magic as you can.”
He couldn’t break the spell that way, not a casting on this scale, but he could slow it down and give Midas and Tisdale a fighting chance.
Zipping around and around the circle through their joined hands, Natisha included, Ambrose noshed on their magic, but they had gathered too much.
“Break their concentration,” Bishop barked at me, “but not their grips.”
The order brought to mind Remy’s earlier warning, and a cold sweat settled over me.
“You do know spells can go boom if you set them off ahead of schedule?”
Darting in, I waited for the same woman to kick at me then caught her ankle. It forced her to hop on one foot, which couldn’t be good for her focus. Her lips kept moving, but her attention wavered along with her balance. Only her sisters’ ironclad grips kept her from being torn free.
“Hadley,” Bishop cautioned as he positioned himself across the circle from me. “Have a care.”
“I’m caring,” I assured him, dragging my prize. “I’m caring.”
With a snort, Bishop grabbed a different woman’s ankles and yanked her legs clear out from under her.
Now two women hung suspended from their sisters’ clasped hands, and the others began to strain.
“Bish,” I tsked him right back. “Have a care.”
“Oh, my bad.” He faked contrition. “I thought you said carry, not care.”
The power inside the circle grew in intensity until it blistered my skin. The air steamed, and my vision wavered in the heat, making it impossible to see beyond the perimeter. The circle was about to be dropped, the curse was about to be flung, and I only had one plan left.
Goddess, I hoped it worked better than plans A through D. Or were we all the way on F now?
Adjusting my grip on the woman’s leg, I dragged her bouncing toward the portal.
Bishop took his cues from me and started hauling his that way too.
The circle bent into a U shape, but it didn’t break.
Judging from the wide eyes of several practitioners, they were all in a panic over what might happen if it did.
Ambrose appeared beside me and mimed helping me haul the woman into the portal he’d created to get us home. Sadly, the only way to ensure she didn’t pop right back out again was to go in with her. I stepped in, and the sense of vertigo swamped me. The nausea returned, and I would have collapsed if Ambrose hadn’t caught me.
Between the meal he had just eaten and the power of Faerie, he was growing substantial again.
Grateful we had set our circle in a wide-open field and not in the tangle of woods where the original faegate leading into the archive from Faerie stood, I dug in my heels and heaved until my arms twanged with the strain.
The coven had a choice to make. Either they quit the curse, damned the consequences, and remained in Atlanta, or they got ripped through the portal and unleashed their hard work on thin air.
They didn’t keep me waiting long for their decision.
After I hauled my faeborn witch into the Faerie field, another arrived, and then Bishop stepped through.
Ambrose placed himself between Bishop and me and captured a third woman’s legs, turning our U into more of an M.
Between the three of us, we got a fifth and sixth witch through. Then the seventh and eighth. Then the ninth and tenth. Natisha was eleventh, and she fought tooth and nail to hold her ground until we won by virtue of them refusing to stop casting.
Once we had the ten women, plus Natisha, in the field, I shouted to Ambrose. “Close the portal.”
Releasing his witch, Ambrose planted himself in front of the circle and set about devouring it with gusto.
As it collapsed, my ears popped and began ringing. Nausea overwhelmed me, and I hit my knees. A headache made holding my eyes open difficult, but I kept my attention on the enemy as they fell silent.
And then dropped dead.
Twenty
“I don’t understand.” I crawled to the nearest body and checked for a pulse. “She’s dead.”
They were all dead. Every single one of them. Except Natisha. And she didn’t look so hot.
“The curse backfired.” Bishop squatted next to me. “They couldn’t stop it once they started, and they couldn’t hold it back after they finished it. They unleashed it, but without the intended targets present, five practitioners died to kill five daughters.”
Ambrose came to stand beside me, and he rested his hand on my shoulder. “Surrender or die.”
The authority in his voice, paired with his touch, shocked me into staring up at him.
For a heartbeat, I thought he was talking to me, and I wasn’t sure I had the juice to do anything about it. But he kept his sightless gaze on Natisha, and she wobbled as his ultimatum rang across the field.
“I offer you a new bargain.” I shuddered to speak those damning words to her. “Will you hear it?”
“Speak, shadow child.” Natisha melted onto her knees. “I will listen.”
“Call our old bargain done,” I pleaded, “and I swear your true name will die with this generation.”
The promise was a huge one for me to make, but it was one I felt certain Tisdale would back.
A soft breeze tickled my cheek, and it was enough to collapse the ancient fae onto her side.
“Natisha?” I propped my legs under me. “Are you…?”
“It is done.” Cheek pillowed on the lush grass, Natisha closed her eyes. “Now leave me be.”
Bishop and I watched her a few minutes, longer than any air-breather could hold their breath.
“Stay put.” He tapped my shoulder with the force of a hammer striking a stubborn nail. “I mean it.”
Wariness in every step, he made his way over to her and checked her pulse. “She’s sleeping.”
“As in sleeping the sleep of the dead?”
“As in the thing old fae do when they’ve grown bored or tired of living and want to forget for a while.”
As dedicated as she had been to her vengeance, I couldn’t see her just letting it go and deciding to nap.
“The curse rebounded.” I checked with Ambrose, who nodded. “She didn’t get a full dose, there wasn’t a sacrifice for her, but she designed the curse to kill those of her bloodline, and it struck her too.”
“That’s my guess.” Bishop huffed out a laugh. “How embarrassing is that?”
“The spares were never extras,” Ambrose murmured. “They were meant to take the hit for her.”
Two women would have laid down their lives to protect Natisha from her own curse.
“She’s going to be furious when she wakes up again,” I stated the obvious. “Like rawr.”
“She won’t stop until she gets revenge.” Bishop stared down at her. “It’s all she has left.”
“What do we do with her then?” I shoved a tangle of curls out of my eyes. “How long will she sleep?”
“The answer to both is—I don’t know.”
“I have an idea.” Ambrose offered me a hand and pulled me to my feet. “Not a solution for forever, but one that will work for today.”
“Do tell.”
“Can you carry her? I don’t have the strength.” He waited for Bishop to lift her. “Come this way.”
Ambrose led us to the copse of trees where the faegate connecting the archive to Faerie
once loomed. He touched the arch of trees we had left unharmed and imbued it with the power he had siphoned when closing the portal in the grass. The center swirled once, and then it stabilized and hummed as it settled.
Though impressed, I was still wary. “How sure are you this leads back to the archive?”
“I am eighty-five percent certain.”
“I’ll go first.” Bishop gathered Natisha close. “I have a better chance of getting out again than you two.”
Unhappy to agree with him, I eased back to give him room. “Okay.”
“Chin up.” He winked. “Either way, this solves your Natisha problem.”
He left before I could yell that he was more important to me than postponing the inevitable.
Less than a minute later, as best I could tell, he stuck his head through. “Come on in, the water’s fine.”
Rolling my eyes, I gestured Ambrose to go ahead. “See you on the other side.”
“Don’t dawdle,” he warned and then entered the rippling magic.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I muttered, already feeling the pinch in my chest from his absence.
As I lifted a foot to step in, a force smacked into my lower back and sent me tumbling into the void.
Thanks to the age of the tether, I kept my wits about me as I skittered across the shale at the base of the archive. Digging in my nails to halt my slide, I glared at the faegate and cursed. “Ferro.”
Ambrose rose behind him, substantial and terrifying, but I waved him off to handle this gwyllgi-style.
Unhappy with me, Ambrose nonetheless settled for leaning against the wall to watch the fight unfold.
“You shamed me,” he bellowed, barely a limp in his stride as he stalked me. “Your mate took my pack.”
“You can have them back.” I leapt to my feet, wishing for my swords. “We don’t want them.”
“I must win their loyalty back by killing you,” he snarled, “and your mate.”
“Look, buddy, Midas let you off with a warning. Why can’t you be happy with that? Seriously?”
Ferro’s enraged snarl as he leapt at me raised the hairs on the back of my neck as I dove out of his way.
“Hadley.”
Chancing a quick glance at Bishop, I watched him draw a slender dagger the length of my forearm from a sheath I hadn’t been able to see at his hip until he touched it. He threw it to me, and I spun on Ferro.
The former alpha charged me, rage blinding him, but he wasn’t back at one hundred percent yet.
“Fine.” I danced aside, slashing his calf, and he howled with rage. “Have it your way.”
Spinning on his heel, he wobbled on his injured leg, and stumbled. “Your blood will—”
I twisted back, put my weight behind the movement, and pierced his heart with the blade.
“I’m not sorry you’re dead,” I told him, his eyes clouding. “You helped mold Midas into the man he is today, but I would give him up in a blink to spare him all the misery you inflicted on him as a child.”
Blood frothed between Ferro’s lips. “I would…do…it…all over…again.”
“Yeah.” I released the hilt, the blade stuck in bone, and kept my distance. “I know.” I watched him hit his knees. “Yet another reason why I’m not sorry about the whole killing-you thing.”
Clutching the hilt, Ferro ripped the dagger from his chest and lifted his arm in a throwing arc.
“Hadley.”
Ambrose materialized behind Ferro, ripping the dagger from his failing grip, but Ambrose had burned through his magic, and the blade slid through his fingers.
Bishop caught it midair then descended on Ferro, turning him into a gwyllgi pincushion.
All in all, it was a valiant group effort, even if I do say so myself.
And it guaranteed when Natisha woke, she would shriek for our heads on individual silver platters.
“Well, that was…violent.” I wiped my hands on my pants. “You okay over there?”
The wintry road must have gotten Bishop’s blood up, and if that was the case, I wanted it out of his system.
“Moron,” Bishop panted. “Midas let him go. He should have stayed gone.”
Guys like Ferro—spoiled, coddled, and plain mean—never did the smart thing. They didn’t know how.
“Ferro has been the monster under Midas’s bed since he was a kid. I feel no remorse in slaying him.”
I said it out loud, not only to test how I felt about what I had done, but to let Bishop know I was okay.
“You might want to disavow knowledge of this part.” Bishop crouched beside Ferro. “You don’t need to see it.”
Already certain where this was heading, I braced myself to bear witness. “I’m good.”
Ambrose came to stand beside me, an oddly comforting presence under the circumstances.
Huffing a strained laugh, Bishop couldn’t quite meet my gaze. “Liar.”
Using a burst of terrifying speed and strength, he lopped off Ferro’s head neat and clean.
Fisting the hair, Bishop collected his trophy and returned the dagger to its scabbard. “Ready to go?”
Unsure how to broach the topic of his new accessory, I bobbed my head and chirped, “Yup.”
That squeak might not win me confidence as the future potentate, but I was under a lot of stress, okay?
“There,” Bishop announced. “We’re done here.”
“Not quite.” I pointed out the portal to Ambrose. “Bring it down?”
“Of course.” Ambrose pivoted on his heel and began to drain it. “I’m happy to help.”
With his tank on empty, Ambrose made quick work of devouring its power source.
The portal winked out, for good this time, and he hit the stairs at a dead run before the bloat struck me.
The long and winding staircase spiraled straight up, seemingly forever.
Did I mention it was both long and winding?
Magic hummed under my skin, the overflow from Ambrose, but even it was having trouble regulating me. I had done too much, been awake too long, and eaten too little. I wasn’t built to hold so much power, and my body required more than energy if I wanted to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
Bishop tilted his head back to watch Ambrose’s mad dash. “Where’s he going in such a hurry?”
“To burn some calories.” I fluttered my lashes at Bishop. “Carry me to the top?”
“Nice try.” He raised Ferro’s head. “I’m already carrying one extra.”
Wrinkling my nose, I decided I would rather walk than carry that the whole way.
“I’ll walk behind to catch you if you fall.”
“Thaaanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Where was Midas and his carrying-damsels fetish when I needed him?
Sigh.
I began the climb, but I would like to go on record as not being happy about it.
Ambrose came and went, sprinting past us while humming one of Ford’s favorite country songs, draining as much excess as possible to make room for the final tether he had to chow down on.
Bishop kept his own council, which got dull after a while, but the head in his hand kept me in my lane.
Whatever his purpose in bringing it with us, I had to admit it proved an effective Hadley deterrent.
“You’re almost there,” Ambrose announced, his passage stirring a breeze. “Two more flights.”
“Thank the goddess.” I put some pep in my step. “If I never see another archive, it will be too soon.”
“I’m right there with you,” Bishop panted. “This staircase is the true horror of this place.”
Ambrose whooshed by me again, aiming for the exit. He disappeared behind a twist in the stairs then grunted and came stumbling down them. Baring his teeth, he growled at whatever had shoved him.
“You’re not going anywhere,” a young woman’s voice drifted down to us. “Not without my mother.”
Ah, yes.
I knew I had forgo
tten something.
Well, this answered the question of where the daughter and spare sacrifice got off to after Remy left.
“You’re certifiable if you think I’m going to climb back down, throw your mom across my shoulder, then climb up again.” I snorted. “I can barely stand here without my legs buckling. Why don’t you go get your mom? I’ll wait here.”
“You’ll leave, and you’ll close the portal behind you.”
“It sounds like you’ve got a choice to make. Your freedom or your mommy. I know which I’d choose.”
“We can’t waste our efforts here,” Ambrose murmured. “Time moves differently in this place.”
Nodding at the reminder, I had a decision to make. It was an easy one. “Take them down.”
“With pleasure,” Ambrose purred as he swept up the staircase. “Hello again…”
A scream filled the archive, and then a second voice joined it, as he tossed them off the staircase.
They fell.
And fell.
And fell.
I heard when they hit bottom.
I will never, no matter how long I live, forget the sound.
Ambrose shoved his hands into his pockets, another Linus affectation, then he smiled over his shoulder.
“I took them down, as you requested.” His teeth flashed. “They made a satisfying crunch, did they not?”
“Yeah.” I rubbed my prickling nape. “They crunched all right.”
A Doritos Locos Taco had nothing on them.
Note to self: Get Ambrose to Taco Bell stat.
As much as I wanted to yell at him that wasn’t what I meant, it was my own fault for giving him so much slack in his leash. Ambrose had no filters, and he had been corporeal enough during the last twenty-four hours to think he could start being sly in interpreting my orders again.
“Let’s go.” It wasn’t what I wanted to say, but it was the best I had. “The others are waiting.”
Ambrose gripped my arm at the threshold to the exit. “I will miss our conversations.”
The bite of his nails in my skin caused sweat to sheen my palms. “Me too.”
A slow breath parted his lips, and he squared his shoulders. I got it then, that he wasn’t preventing me from leaving. He was preparing himself to go back to a shadowed half life. I could sympathize, but I had a lot to learn before I cracked open Pandora’s box on his behalf again. He might want to be my friend, or ally, or whatever, but he had given me a firm reminder of his nature I couldn’t afford to forget.
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