She nodded, although she wasn’t sure how much control Tyrus had over the black wolf, who must’ve been Corban. And on top of that, Tyrus had fed on Kyler, too. She swallowed and burrowed closer to Jace.
Kyler’s okay. He has to be. If they got out of this alive, she’d never bitch at him again.
Jace set his mouth to her ear. “Hang on,” he said in a faint voice, each word clearly an effort. “I got word…to Adric before…they took us. He’ll come...save you. And I’ll keep that…prick away from you…until then.”
“No,” she returned in an urgent, equally low tone. “Don’t try anything. He can’t hurt me. Not really.” Not like Jace, who was rapidly growing weaker. She knew he had to be hurt bad—he hadn’t even been able to get off the floor to help her when Tyrus was feeding on her.
Jace’s only reply was a grunt.
She drew in a breath. “I can get your quartz.”
“No.” His grip on her tightened. “I don’t want you…anywhere near…him.”
She didn’t reply, but she’d made up her mind. Jace needed his quartz to heal himself. They couldn’t count on Adric finding them in time.
Tyrus shifted position. She sat back up so she could keep an eye on him, but Tyrus was only settling back against the wall. Why the hell didn’t he go to sleep? But he seemed wide awake, although relaxed, sated from his meal.
Tyrus spoke. “You and the fada—you love him?” He sounded curious, but she didn’t trust his reasons for asking—and she was damned if she’d tell him before she’d told Jace himself.
She moved a shoulder. “I haven’t known him that long.”
Jace tugged on her hand. When she leaned closer, he murmured, “I love you,” the words a warm tickle in her ear.
She blinked. Heat crept into her chest, chasing away the last of the chill. “I—” She halted and shook her head.
“You feel it.” Jace brought her hand to his heart. “My mate,” he mouthed.
“You’re telling me this now?” she whispered back.
He gave her a crooked grin. “Didn’t know myself…until a few hours ago.” He sobered. “Wanted you to know…in case…”
She shot a glance at Tyrus, but he was holding Jace’s quartz by the cord and examining it.
“You are not going to die,” she told Jace.
He pressed a kiss to her hand and then released it. He opened his mouth and tried to speak, but couldn’t.
She squeezed his fingers. “You’re not going to die. I won’t let you.”
“Mate bond,” he said at last. “Not complete. But might help. The two of us…together…stronger.”
She nodded. She did feel calmer, and she could swear there was a fine thread connecting her to Jace. Her heart filled with wonder. Could this be the mate bond? She touched a hand to her sternum, right where she felt the connection, and Jace nodded as if he’d heard her question.
Tyrus closed his fingers around Jace’s quartz. He touched it to the hollow of his throat and muttered something in a language Evie didn’t recognize. “Sit up.”
His dark eyes focused on Jace—and Jace jerked upright. He snarled, and Tyrus said, “Quiet,” and Jace’s mouth clamped shut as if a switch had been flipped.
Evie started. What the fuck?
Tyrus’s mouth curved. “The possibilities are so interesting. I could order you to do anything. Kill that niece of yours, even.”
Fine hairs raised all along Evie’s spine. “You wouldn’t.”
Jace’s throat worked. His expression was murderous, but whatever Tyrus was using to control him wouldn’t allow him to speak.
“No?” the night fae said. “I can’t kill her myself—she’s protected by a ward. Anyone who touches her dies himself. But if Jones does it for me…” Tyrus released the quartz and let it swing from his fingers.
Whatever had been holding Jace upright released. He flopped forward like a marionette with its strings cut, but came right back up with a snarl. He lurched at Tyrus, but the night fae touched the quartz to his throat again.
“Stay where you are.”
Evie had worked out what Tyrus meant. Her stomach dropped. “He would die, too.”
“Exactly. It would kill two birds with one stone, yes?”
Jace strained against the invisible bonds, the cords of his neck quivering with tension. But it was no use, and he was dangerously weak. All too soon his shoulders slumped. He sent Evie an anguished look and leaned back against the wall.
Evie took his hand and racked her brain for ideas. But she kept circling back to the one sure thing: Steal back Jace’s quartz.
Tyrus’s eyes drifted shut, but she’d bet her last dollar he wasn’t sleeping. Still, if they were going to fight back, it had to be now, before the night came again. Daytime was when a night fae was weakest.
Beside her, she sensed Jace gathering his energy. She felt that spark of amazement again. So this was the mate bond? This deep knowing of another person? Even as faint and new as the bond was between them, she felt connected to him in a way she never had to any man.
Then her heart sank. Jace was going to attack, weak as he was—and even though he believed he couldn’t win. She could feel his uncertainty—and his determination.
She gripped his hand. “Not yet,” she whispered.
“Can’t.” He subsided, his expression bleak. “Can’t…shift.”
“That’s bad, right?”
He grimaced in assent.
She glanced at Tyrus. How the hell was she going to steal back the quartz? If only she had a weapon… But even if she did, she wasn’t sure she could hurt Tyrus. He moved so freaking fast—and he was fae, practically unkillable.
Jace had gone silent again, his breath coming in shallow pants. Then his lips moved. “I’m sorry,” he said in a nearly inaudible voice. “For dragging you…and Kyler into this. If I hadn’t…come to your door…Tyrus would never have…” He trailed off.
“Stop it,” she hissed back. “This is not your fault.”
His throat worked. “Shouldn’t have…brought you to Baltimore. But seemed…like the right thing to do.”
“Oh, Jace. Don’t do this to yourself—I agreed to come, didn’t I? They would’ve gotten to us even easier if we stayed in Grace Harbor.”
His eyes flicked to Tyrus, his expression stark. “But when I make a mistake, people die.”
Her heart contracted. She knew he was thinking of his sister. “No one’s going to die,” she said fiercely. “Now stop talking. Rest.”
His lips quirked. “And think happy thoughts, right?”
Her cheeks heated. “You heard that?”
“Yeah.”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
“You.” He reached for her hand and brought it to his chest. “I’m thinking about you. You make me happy.”
Emotion welled up in her. She brushed a kiss over his lips, too full to speak, and then settled next to him, cross-legged, a hand on his thigh. “Rest. I’ll watch Tyrus.”
He nodded and shut his eyes.
Silence fell. Tyrus’s eyes had closed and his breathing changed. She was almost sure he’d fallen asleep. He’d set Jace’s quartz on the coat beside him. The fae were so arrogant and sure of their superiority, it probably didn’t even occur to him that Evie might try to steal it back.
She rubbed her palms over her upper arms. When Jace had sat up, the T-shirt she’d pressed to his throat had fallen to the floor. When she’d kissed him just now, her hand had touched the wadded-up material. The shirt was soaked with blood.
There was no more time. Jace needed his quartz—now.
She forced herself to wait another five minutes to allow Tyrus to fall more deeply asleep. That was when she realized something was digging into her ass.
She slipped a hand into her left pocket and caught her breath. A fae light had somehow shrunk to the size of a marble and hitched a ride. She rolled it between her fingers. It was soft and warm, and made her hand tingle. Nice, but probably not any help.
<
br /> She left the tiny light hidden in her pocket. No point in letting Tyrus know about it. And knowing it was there comforted her, made the dark seem less threatening.
Let’s go, Evie. She crept across the floor. If Tyrus woke up, she’d say she was getting a drink of water. It wasn’t a lie; she was dry-mouthed with fear.
The quartz had stopped glowing. She brushed her hand over the dirt where she’d last seen it, keeping a chary eye on Tyrus.
When she couldn’t find it, she inched closer. Tyrus’s darkness reached out for her, but a quick glance told her he was still asleep. Heart in her throat, she scrabbled around in the dirt until her fingers touched a smooth, oblong shape. She snatched up the quartz and slipped it into her bra before rising to her feet and continuing to the sink. She gripped the edge, waiting for her galloping heart to settle.
Behind her, Tyrus stirred. She shot him a look. His eyes gleamed at her in the darkness but he didn’t say anything. Hands shaking, she took a metal cup from a hook and filled it with water. She drank deeply, then refilled the cup and returned to Jace, aware of Tyrus’s gaze on her the whole time.
Kneeling next to him, she slid an arm under his shoulders and lifted him so he could drink. He drank greedily and she realized with a pang that she should’ve gotten him water sooner. He’d lost so much blood.
But at least she’d retrieved his quartz. She turned her body so that Tyrus couldn’t see and slipped it into his palm.
Jace stilled, and then his fingers closed on it.
Her neck crawled. Tyrus was still watching her. Any minute he’d figured out she’d stolen back the quartz. “Hurry,” she whispered to Jace.
His chin moved in a slight nod. He didn’t move or show in any way that he was drawing on the quartz, but she saw the glow brighten between his fingers. She set her hand over his to cover it.
A minute passed, then another. When she flicked a glance at Tyrus, his eyes were closed again.
Jace’s breath altered. It was deeper, more powerful. He nudged her hip. “Help me,” he mouthed.
Of course. She mentally smacked her forehead. She was an amplifier. She could help Jace heal himself.
Tyrus might have weakened her, but nobody got the best of Evie Morningstar. She set her hand on Jace’s stomach and focused with everything she had.
34
Jace hurt in every bone of his body. But that was nothing to the pain and fury that raged through him when the night fae went for Evie, and he was too fucking weak to help her.
He ached to get her out of here. If he thought it would do any good, he’d humble himself, plead with Tyrus to let her go. But he knew Tyrus would refuse. It must be a rare treat for the prick to be able to feed on another fae’s energy, even a part-human like Evie.
At least Jace had had the chance to tell her he loved her, that she was his mate. The bond had sprung into being. He had to believe that was a good thing, that together, they were stronger than either was alone.
Evie moaned, and Jace cursed Tyrus, dark and vicious. The wound on his neck spurted blood, and he blacked out. He came back to consciousness to find he was trying to sit up, attempting to get to Evie.
Another harrowing minute ticked past before the night fae released her. She crawled back to Jace and huddled next to him, her body trembling.
He might have gone for Tyrus anyway but the fucking fae had his quartz. The pendant wasn’t alive. It didn’t know it was being used to control Jace. It just called mindlessly to him and he was forced to obey.
Fury condensed in Jace, cold and grim. Tyrus’s plotting made sense now, but he’d miscalculated one thing.
Jace would never harm Merry. He’d kill himself first.
But first, he had to save Evie. He tucked her close to his body, comforting her the only way he could. Tyrus dozed off and Jace forced himself to relax and conserve his energy. He must have drifted off again, because he didn’t realize Evie had left his side until she was lifting his head, urging him to drink.
He eagerly gulped the water. It was cool and good, soothing his parched throat. “Thank you,” he rasped.
Then she slipped the quartz into his hand. He went rigid with shock—and admiration. How the hell had she managed to steal it back?
Hope surged. Maybe they had a chance after all.
He gripped the quartz and drew on its energy with everything he had. The crystals’ song was high-pitched, agitated. Drawing on the quartz so hard was dicey—he risked blowing it out— but he had no choice.
The first thing he did was close the wound on his throat. Replacing the blood loss would take hours, but he could stem the flow. Next, he pushed energy into his body—a quick-and-dirty fix. It would take the place of the blood he’d lost, but only for a short time. But he only needed a few minutes to take Tyrus down.
And he would take Tyrus down. Failure wasn’t an option.
Sweat beaded on Jace’s temples. He drew harder—and hit a brick wall. He hated to ask Evie for help—she was already drained from Tyrus—but he might only have a few minutes. Night fae usually slept in the day, but Tyrus was running high from feeding on them.
“Help me,” he whispered, and Evie gamely added her own energy to his. Pride filled him. His mate had a spine of pure steel.
Tyrus started awake. His eyes gleamed red in the darkness. “You stole from me.” His tone was surprised—and cold as only a fae’s could be.
Jace swore under his breath. “That’s enough,” he told Evie. It would have to be.
“You’re…okay?” She collapsed onto the floor without waiting for an answer, her chest working.
Jace’s heart lurched. He lifted her onto his lap. “I love you,” he said. “So fucking much.” Her mouth curved but she didn’t speak. He rubbed her back, terrified that between him and Tyrus, they’d drained her too deeply.
But Tyrus didn’t care.
Dark energy slipped over the two of them. Soft at first, like the damp brush of fog, then they were enveloped in chilly tendrils. Jace burned with guilt and shame.
He’d failed his sister.
He’d failed Merry.
And now he was going to fail Evie.
The tendrils multiplied like a ball of squirming maggots, enveloping Jace in a slimy darkness. He had the urge to flail at them wildly, but that would only play into Tyrus’s hands. The more negative energy Jace put out, the more Tyrus had to feed on.
Evie wrapped her arms around his waist. “We can beat him,” she whispered fiercely against his neck. “Happy thoughts, right?”
He buried his face in her hair. He didn’t know about happy thoughts, but he knew one thing—this woman was his heart. Warmth flared in his chest. He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the palm.
A trembling smile bloomed on her lips. She curled her fingers as if capturing his kiss for safe-keeping. “Love you.”
Their eyes met. The blackness receded, but hovered nearby. Testing for weaknesses.
Jace gathered himself for a fight.
The tendrils returned, insidious, relentless. This time they burrowed deeper, sucking at their energy. Evie shuddered and Jace snapped.
Enough.
“Run if you can,” he told her and set her on the floor behind him.
“No,” she said, but he was focused on Tyrus now.
He crouched on all fours, man and jaguar united. “You fucking S.O.B. Can’t you see it’s too much for her? Feed on me, damn you.”
Tyrus’s eyes bored into him. Icy claws of dread clamped on his nape, but he ignored it to prowl closer.
Something black and sharp bored into his heart. Tyrus was feeding in earnest now, but a feeding night fae did nothing to relieve the pain. Instead, he somehow made it double and then redouble, so that Jace was lashed with regret: so many people dead…so many ways he’d fucked up, let down those he loved.
“No.” He hunched his shoulders as if the lash were a physical whip, and grimly bore it.
Beside him, Evie swallowed audibly. “Jace…”
She was curled up on the floor, gasping for breath. Tyrus hadn’t let up on her. She was being sucked into the darkness with him.
Fuck that.
His growl was low and primal. He had enough energy now to shift. One chance to save Evie. He’d have to make it count.
The cat was a hundred percent with him. Kill. Save the female.
Jace dropped the quartz pendant over his neck and set his mouth. The shift was agony. His skin burned, and his bones popped and cracked, twisted beyond their capacity. An involuntary groan tore from his lips.
“Jace.” Behind him, Evie gasped and pushed herself up on her hands and knees. “What are you doing?”
He ignored her to focus on drawing enough energy to fuel the shift. Lights exploded behind his eyes. A fireball of pain scorched through him until it was all he could do not to scream.
He folded his fingers around his quartz and squeezed, sucking every bit of energy he could. Now. He wrenched his form from man to cat—and then collapsed on the ground, weak as a kitten.
Evie sobbed out his name. “Jace.”
He pushed himself to stand on wobbly legs, and snarled at the night fae.
Tyrus stalked toward him—and Jace struck.
A jaguar’s bite was twice as strong as a lion’s. He could kill an animal by sinking his teeth into its skull. Jace went for Tyrus’s spinal cord, determined to end this.
But the night fae was incredibly fast. In the blink of an eye, he was on the other side of the small room. Still, Jace had him on the run. The dark feeding stopped as the other man focused on surviving.
Evie scuttled into a corner, smart enough to get out of the way. Something glowed in her hand—a fae light. She held it up, casting a light over their battle.
Tyrus raised a hand and muttered a phrase in an ancient fae language. The air gathered into a sharp point and flew at Jace. It would’ve taken out his eye if he hadn’t flung himself to the side, but instead, it sliced open his cheek.
He leapt for Tyrus and again, the fae evaded him. Jace’s jaguar rumbled angrily. They circled each other, breathing hard.
Tyrus raised his hand and muttered another spell. This time, the air formed itself into a rope that wrapped around Jace’s throat like a noose. He clawed furiously at it, but it was some magical material that repelled his attempts to dislodge it. The noose tightened. His vision darkened at the edges. He made one last, desperate attempt to sink his teeth into Tyrus but the other man easily pushed him off.
Saving Jace Page 26