You can’t.”
Greta used her magic to lower Basq toward the flames that curled and hissed just below his feet.
“Shut up, vamp. She’s doing the right thing.”
“Chaaya, no,” Basq insisted, his gaze locked on her even as the fire threatened to consume him.
“I’m doing what I have to do.”
“Of course you are.” Greta smiled with a smug satisfaction. “You’ve already sacrificed enough in your life.”
Chaaya snorted. She was so freaking tired of that word. Just once it would be nice if someone else had to do the sacrificing.
“You’d think,” she muttered.
Greta’s smile faded, her expression suddenly suspicious. “No tricks.”
Chaaya brushed her finger over her chest. “I cross my heart and hope to die that I’m going to take us home.”
“Chaaya, you can’t trust her,” Basq rasped.
“I have to do this.” She held his gaze, using their bond to send him a sense of calm assurance. “We have to do it.”
Basq stilled, his gaze sweeping over her stubborn expression. “Our duty?”
“Yeah.”
Basq slowly nodded, accepting that she wasn’t going to make a crazy decision just to keep him from going up in flames.
“Okay.”
She smiled wryly. His confidence was heartwarming but potentially misplaced. There was a very good chance her plan was just as crazy as he’d first feared.
Shaking away her ridiculous thoughts, she held her aunt’s gaze. “You can release him.”
Greta narrowed her eyes. “You I trust.” She glared at Basq. “Him I don’t.”
“He’s not going to try and interfere, are you, Basq?”
“No.” The word came out from between clenched fangs.
“Fine.” Greta glanced back at Chaaya. “Try anything and he’s going to discover how fun it is to be burned alive.” A sick pleasure sparkled in her eyes. “Or in his case, dead.”
Chaaya battled back the urge to stick the spear into the woman’s heart. She didn’t doubt for a second the bitch would drop Basq into the fire.
“There’s no need for threats. I’m going to give you exactly what you asked for.”
Greta remained wary. She wasn’t stupid. But she was desperate. Something Chaaya was counting on.
“Bring the spear here,” Greta commanded.
Chaaya strolled forward, flipping the weapon from hand to hand. “Do you want to hold it?”
An age-old frustration twisted the older woman’s narrow features. “You know I can’t. But I do intend to hold on to you. You’re not going to escape without me.”
“Hold on as tight as you want,” Chaaya taunted, clenching her teeth as her aunt grabbed her elbow in a grip that was strong enough to leave bruises. “Are you ready?”
“More than ready,” Greta muttered. “What about you?”
Was she ready? Not really. She had no idea if her wild scheme was going to work or not.
Chaaya stiffened her spine. This was their only hope.
“Release Basq and form the portal,” she said.
Greta’s nails cut into Chaaya’s arm. “No side trips. Just take me home.”
Chaaya nodded, and Greta slowly lowered her arm, setting Basq on the ground next to Chaaya. Then, with a last warning glare, she pointed toward a spot directly in front of them.
At first there was nothing. Then Greta spoke a soft word of power, and a dark hole formed in midair. It hung there for a few seconds, pulsing and expanding before a swirl of sparkling colors appeared, like diamond dust scattered on black velvet.
The hole continued to swirl and enlarge until Greta jerked on Chaaya’s elbow. “Let’s go.”
Chaaya created a picture in her mind, making it as crystal clear as possible. She didn’t want any mistakes. Not now.
Holding on to the image, she clutched the spear and stepped forward. Greta and Basq walked next to her, both holding on with death grips. Together they entered the portal, the sensation of weightlessness making it feel as if she was flying. Then, a second later, they were dumped out of the darkness and into a vast, empty landscape.
“At last,” Greta exulted, releasing Chaaya as she spread her arms wide. Her happiness, however, was cut short as she suddenly noticed the strange light that filtered from the orange sky. “Wait.” Whirling around, she glared at Chaaya. “What is this place?”
“You said to take you home. That’s what I’ve done.”
Chaaya waved her hand toward the barren scenery. In the distance there was a silhouette of dead trees and a parched riverbed, but there was no sign of living creatures. No buildings, no roads, nothing. Just dust and air so thick it was hard to breathe.
Oh, and evil.
A pulsing, crushing evil that weighed against Chaaya with a tangible force.
“This isn’t my home,” Greta screeched, her voice rising several octaves.
“No, but it’s