to gawk or protest the sudden violence. Gratitude he had spared me the task warred with fear it wouldn’t count if I hadn’t done the deed myself. We had no way of knowing what Natisha wanted from me, and I fretted that ignorance would cost us down the line.
The rest of the coven expressed no grief stepping over their fallen comrade to reach me. The pack—and the pride, I guess?—kept the worst of it from me, but it was close. At times I proved how worthless I could be, unable to swing my sword without fear of injuring an ally. Trusting the pack and these strangers to protect me played on all my old insecurities.
I hadn’t been enough for my family. How could I be enough for a pack? For my friends? For a city?
There was no choice. I had to be.
A nightmare with six arms fell to the pride, but it took every one of them to finish it.
The pack brought down another, but three gwyllgi had been thrown keeping it off me, and they weren’t moving.
Ambrose was slowing the beasts down, but they were too much even for him. I was expending the magic as fast as he harvested it to boost my healing abilities and increase my strength.
A piercing howl rose behind us, but I couldn’t turn to check. A half goat, half man with bizarre spines similar to a porcupine had stepped into the breach. A woman with silky midnight-blue hair and bright-red skin joined him. Her eyes were trailing comets, and her sensuous voice…
On the ground.
Flat on my back.
Sky overhead.
How did I get here? Why are my ears ringing? Surely even I can’t get blown up twice in one night.
Blinking back to myself, I found Midas on all fours standing over me, a rumble constant in his chest.
When had that happened? When had any of it happened?
Wargs by the dozens yipped, dove, and lunged at the two coven members who had cornered me.
“She’s awake.” Bishop hooked his hands under my arms and hauled me to my feet. “Hey, kid. You had us worried there for a second.”
The questions frothing in my head refused to bubble out of my mouth. “What…?”
“A siren.” He checked a rising goose egg on my noggin then nodded, satisfied. “An old one.”
Age matured into power, which explained why she had so thoroughly rung my bell.
“I have the worst headache.” I clutched my head, but it didn’t help. “Goddess, that was brutal.”
“They must have been holding her in reserve.” Bishop kept me steady. “She whammied you real good, then she fell back. Thank the old gods her range is limited.”
Whammy was definitely the right word. “The wargs?”
“The Clairmonts and the Loups.” He smiled out at the carnage. “They came back as soon as their alphas managed the shift.”
“Oh.” I had no memory of them leaving in the first place. “That’s good.”
“Hold still.” Bishop placed cool hands on my temples, magic seeped into my skin, and he gave me the worst brain freeze known to man. “Better?”
“Ow, ow, ow.” I swatted him away. “No, that’s not better.” I glared at him, noticed my vision was singular instead of plural, and laughed. “Hey.” I straightened. “That is better.”
“Gotta go.” He turned me loose. “The wargs are about to bring down that naga.”
Until he mentioned it, I hadn’t noticed the blood and gore caking his hands, or that it had transferred to me. Elbows, wrists, and hands. Crimson smeared them. I imagined my face looked much the same, my temples anyway. The smells and itch as it dried turned my stomach.
And speaking of my stomach, Ambrose was too glutted to care what happened next. He had gotten drunk on power. Again. He lounged on a tree limb, watching the show, too bloated to give me any trouble. Or help. It was a trade I was willing to make.
I scooped my swords off the ground where Bishop had tossed them in favor of catching me and joined the gwyllgi front line again. This time, they let me work for them, luring the coven then dogpiling them.
Bishop drifted in and out, not fighting, but plucking hearts after fatal blows fell.
The Remys ran interference for the most part, but I caught them hauling out wounded too.
The final coven member standing wasn’t nearly as terrible as the others had been. It was a simple manticore. Simple but effective to have lasted this long.
With the others down, and four packs converging on one witchborn fae, it stood no chance. They