But I don’t know how!
I do. He hoped.
He’d better.
Open to me. Ridge’s voice whispered the words in her mind, a seductive mental purr. Reach out to me.
Use your magic. His gaze met hers, intense, demanding. He didn’t seem aware of the towering furred figure stalking him.
If this doesn’t work, we’re both dead. So I’d better make it work. Concentrating hard, Kat caught at that mental cord to his consciousness, simultaneously drawing on the magic in her own core.
Bind us, he breathed, staring deep into her eyes. Braid us.
Behind him, the Direwolf’s cold blue eyes narrowed, seeing Ridge’s distraction.
Ridge . . .
Don’t worry about him. Concentrate on me.
Kat saw what he wanted her to do; the image was so plain in his mind. She caught her breath as she realized in a flash the risks and implications. The connection would be so strong, the death of one would kill the other.
So we just won’t die, he said, even as he pivoted like a dancer, swinging his sword in a hard arc that drove the werewolf back.
Kat grabbed the magic, forced it into the thread, raw energy pouring faster and faster, binding them tighter. Mind to mind, heart to heart, will to will, as frozen seconds ticked past. The werewolf’s lips drew back from those dagger-blade fangs as he circled them, waiting for his chance.
In slow motion, Kat watched the monster’s clawed hand draw back. Ridge lunged at him, deliberately focusing the creature’s attention even as his bond with Kat grew stronger. His magic flowed into her as hers flooded him, a burning circuit of power that brightened with every passing second.
Her muscles grew stronger, responding to his strength. Her skin felt hot, swollen. Kat lifted the sword and waited for her opening, even as her heart howled at the risk.
Ridge swung his sword, deliberately leaving himself wide open. The Direwolf lunged just as it had before, clawed hand catching the vampire’s chest, ripping through armor and flesh and muscle. Ridge bellowed in pain, keeping the creature’s attention. The towering beast’s lips drew back from his teeth, and he prepared to rip out his foe’s throat.
Kat stepped up behind the werewolf, leaped upward with all the vampire strength Ridge had loaned her through the Truebond. Her sword swung in a blinding arc of steel and magic, slicing into the werewolf’s thick neck. She felt the crunch of bone against her blade, and then the great head spun from the beast’s shoulders. It hit the ground, eyes wide with astonishment in the instant before they glazed into death. The massive body slowly crumpled, collapsing in a pile of fur and claws beside its severed head.
Kat didn’t stop to gloat. Ridge toppled, his body convulsing from the fatal wound he’d deliberately invited from the monster’s claws. She hit the ground beside him and planted a hand in the center of his bloody armor. Light flared around her palm as she gave him back the magic he’d loaned her. In a flash of light and power, he transformed into a wolf.
And scrambled to all four feet, his horrific injuries instantly healed.
Kat wanted to throw her arms around him, but there wasn’t time. Lancelot needed her. She wheeled . . .
Just as a gate whirled into glowing being halfway across the clearing. Grace leaped through it, racing for her fallen husband with fear vivid on her pale face. “Lance!” The moment her hand touched the wolf’s furry head, he shifted in an explosion of light. Lancelot raised his now-human head wearily and gave his wife a tired smile. “Took you long enough.” ELEVEN
It turned out Grace and Lancelot had been working a terrorist bombing at an Iraqi school when they’d gotten Kat’s call. Grace had stayed behind to help dig injured children from the wreckage while Lance had gone to help Kat.
“Scared the shit out of me when I felt him lose consciousness through the Truebond,” Grace told them once Ridge had returned to human form. “I was afraid I wouldn’t get to him in time, but there was this little boy who was dying.” She shrugged. “I had to heal the child first, and that took time.”
“As well you should have,” Lance told her, rising to his feet and offering his wife a hand up. “I can take care of myself.”
Grace rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Right.”
Kat frowned. “Speaking of magic, we need to find that girl the Direwolf tried to kill. He’d caught her with his claws at least once, and she’s going to need healing.”
“And that’s just the physical damage,” Ridge said, his face grim. “The psychological stuff is going to be even rougher.”
Grace nodded. “Better let me take care of that. I’ve had a lot more experience in dealing with that kind of psychic injury.”
“What are you going to do?” Kat asked, curious.
The Maja raked a lock of long hair back from her face with scratched and bloody fingers. Apparently she had her own injuries from digging through all that Iraqi rubble. “Blunt the kid’s memories. And it needs to be done now, before they burn in and she winds up with post-traumatic stress.” She caught her husband’s arm and gave it a tug. “Come on. Use that vampire nose of yours and find her for me.” Lance cast a grim glance toward the werewolf’s body. “Then we’re gonna have to contact the bastard’s father and tell him what happened. He’s not going to like hearing he raised a serial killer.” Grace winced and sighed. “No. We’d better take Arthur and Morgana along. We’ll need all the firepower we can get, if we’re going to have to break news like that.” She twined her fingers with her husband’s, and the couple started to turn away.