Mating heat. For her. Ria looked at the other woman and felt like screaming in her own rage.
"Looks like the party's over," she whispered, staring back at him, aching to the depths of her soul. "Take care of your mate, Mr. Warrant. I'll take care of myself."
She felt the ice building, though she knew it wouldn't last long. It was forming in her veins, covering her flesh, washing through her mind. The shield was as brittle as frost, and just as cold.
Mercury's lips pulled back from his teeth in a silent, warning snarl as he started for her. And he might have reached her, he might have actually touched her, if Alaiya hadn't been there. If she hadn't reached up, her hands sliding over his shoulders, her lips pressing to his before he could push her from him.
And Mercury stilled, silent as death, against her.
Ria couldn't bear any more. She turned and ran, aware of Dane behind her, calling out her name, catching up with her. He stopped her at the entrance to the foyer, forced her to slow down before wrapping his arm around her and leading her quickly for the door.
The doorman was waiting with her cape.
Dane grabbed it. Ria would have kept going. She had to run. She had to escape. She had to get away from the pain. It was splintering inside her so sharp and deep she didn't think she could survive it.
The first sob tore from her throat as she rushed down the steps, ignoring the echo of a roar behind her.
Dane's limo was waiting outside. Rye rushed to open the door and slammed it behind them as Dane rushed her into the back. A second later, the car was pulling away from the mansion, slicing a path through the fallen snow as Dane wrapped her cloak around her.
"It's okay, little mink," he whispered, drawing her into his arms, rocking her.
He had done that too, when he found her at the apartment, all alone. Called her a little mink and took her in his arms.
"This too shall pass, Ria," he murmured against her hair.
And her heart kept breaking. Her chest was one live, brutal wound that tore open over and over again. Breathing hurt. Living hurt. She could feel the pain sweeping over her body, like barbed agony, ripping and shredding at her.
"She was supposed to be dead," she whispered. "She wasn't supposed to be here."
She could speak. As bad as it hurt, she was still breathing.
"I know, sweetheart." His arms tightened around her. "God, Ria, I'll kill him for doing this to you. I swear to you."
And he meant it. She knew the ice in his voice, the rage echoing in it. And she stilled.
"I'll die with him."
His curse rent the air.
"You're dying without him." His voice was hoarse. Dane's voice was never hoarse. He never really let himself care enough about anything or anyone, except family, to become that angry. And she wasn't family. She never had been.
She moved away from him, hating the feel of him holding her. Hating the feel of anything against her flesh now.
"We're going to the airport," he informed her. "I'm taking you home."
She shook her head. "I have a job to do."
There was the job. Her word. She owed. She owed the Vanderales. This one last job.
"Ria." He leaned forward as she moved into the opposite corner and huddled against the door. "God, sweetheart, I can't let you do this to yourself."
"You can't stop me," she said tonelessly.
Toneless. There was no emotion in her voice, but it was shredding her insides, over and over again. Like the vultures from hell that forever tore at flesh that grew back. That was the pain ripping her apart.
She stared straight ahead, watching the snow come down, the wipers beating at it.
"Take me to the cabin, Rye."