thing with such thick foulness she could hardly stand to touch it. Quickly she stuffed it in her pocket. “We’ve got to get this to Cullen.” Who was fighting “some other wolves.”
Over the stage, or around it? Around was the long way, but whatever was happening on that stage was keeping Rule too busy to come check on her. Anything able to do that would keep her from getting the ring to Cullen. She set off at a run with Scott beside her.
And no ghosts. Thank God. Drummond must have gone on or whatever ghosts did.
People were fleeing. That was her first second’s impression as she rounded the end of the stage—people shoving and streaming away from the carnage and the wolves.
Some hadn’t made it. She glimpsed bodies, gore—other wolves chasing the wolves that chased the people trying desperately to get away. A pair of men faced one of the wolves. And in the trampled grass near the stage, a furious man with a movie star’s face flung a thin ribbon of fire.
Black fire. Mage fire.
It struck a wolf as the creature leaped for the stage. And burned—black flame rippling out to eat fur, skin, and muscle so fast it seemed instantaneous. The burning body fell to the ground, limbs twitching.
Another wolf leaped at the beautiful man’s back.
“Cullen!” she screamed.
He spun. The wolf slammed into him and they fell to the ground. The two men who’d been trying to keep it from Cullen leaped onto the wolf and pulled it off. One had its head, the other hugged the body tight. The one holding the head pulled it back, snapping the neck. They dropped the body.
Only it got up again. The head hung down, twisted at an insane angle. Even as Lily watched, still running, the head twitched—and started to resume its usual position. Slowly, but the damn thing was healing as she watched.
Cullen had rolled away. He sprang to his feet, threw out a hand, and sent another ribbon of black flame from his fingertips. The demon thing burned.
“I’ve got the ring,” Lily said as she came to a stop. “Parrott’s ring. It’s lousy with death magic. I hope you’ve got some juice left.”
“I’ve got juice. Put it—” His head swiveled to look up at the stage.
An Asian woman with long, straight hair leaped off it—right onto Cullen. She wore a red jacket, black slacks, and a face Lily looked at in the mirror every day. She was giggling like a teenage girl at a slumber party and she moved every bit as fast as Cullen ever had—grabbing the arm he tried to hit her with as she hauled back with a fist and punched him in the side of the head.
His head snapped back on his neck. She pulled her arm back to do it again—
And Rule leaped down from the stage, grabbing the demon-Lily’s arm as he landed, spinning her around. She grinned and swatted him playfully.
He staggered back, going to one knee.
Cullen shoved to his feet again, shook his head, and circled around the two of them to get to Lily. “Put it down! Put it on the ground!”
She bent and did that, then got out of his way. He skidded to a stop, flung out his hand, and showered the damned ring in mage fire. An awful lot of mage fire.
Lily scrambled back. As she did, black smoke erupted from the small inferno—smoke that smelled like a week-old floater. Lily choked on a whiff and coughed.
The smoke cleared as quickly as it had appeared. Cullen was on his knees—and swaying. And the demon-Lily was gone. One second she’d been dodging Rule’s kick. The next she simply . . . wasn’t.
And a buff and gray wolf charged Rule.
Lily glanced frantically around. None of the wolves had vanished. Just the demon version of her.
“Rule,” she called, “I think Cullen’s out of it as far as mage fire goes!”
“Yeah,” Cullen muttered, looking dazed as he swayed in place on his knees. He lifted one hand to his head. “Seeing double and mage fire—not a good mix.”
Scott tackled the wolf just as it reached Rule. The two of them tumbled to the ground, ending with the wolf on top and Scott holding the beast’s head, trying to keep its open jaws from his face—and losing.
Until Rule kicked it in the head—a solid roundhouse kick that should have killed it outright. It shook its head as if briefly dazed and lunged for Scott’s throat again.
Rule’s second kick was to the