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The other guardians confirmed that the demon wolves were linked to Zara's magic, and there was no way to break the connection.

It would be great to learn more about Felicity’s magic and how it worked. It seemed to be a natural counterbalance to all things science. That fact alone made it more valuable than she realized.

Conn walked out of his house in a torn t-shirt and a pair of old sweats that had seen better days. Mulan walked out behind him.

In his hands, Conn carried a second outfit matching the one he wore. Henry must have caught him up on the situation. I think my demon caretaker had demon spies posted all over the property. I’d nearly grown used to his clever omniscience.

But I’d never seen Conn looking so unruly. Mulan must have given him a hard time about his fancier workout clothes. My fashion conscious demon loved his brand names.

I smiled when Conn handed the extra clothes to Ben. He’d brought a pair of men’s sandals too. In human form, they were about the same size.

Turning his back to the rest of us, Ben slipped the clothes on. It was a shame when his fine backside disappeared from view. Mulan had missed the best show but I’d bring her up to speed later.

“Let’s go to breakfast,” I said when Ben was fully dressed.

“What about your gates?” Ben asked.

I shrugged. “Henry’s people will keep watch on the place until we get new ones. We’ll replace the mechanism easily enough. The warding was the true loss. Now I will have to come up with some new ones that can’t be broken as easily by powerful strangers.”

I saw Felicity look guiltily at Ben, who shrugged and shook his head. My grin included both of them. “Come on, I’ll tell ya about what we did to Mulan’s brother-in-law over breakfast. It will give ya a good laugh.”

Felicity turned to her husband. “I can see why you protect her, Ben. Her refusal to allow herself to be disturbed by trouble makes her a mighty magickal.”

Ben chuckled. “Well, Aran isn’talwaysrational. She’s just good at knowing when to be.”

“That comes with my advanced age,” I said as we walked back to the house in a group.

“What age is that?” Felicity asked.

I judged her to be somewhere in her late forties or early fifties. “Forty, and so far, I’m enjoying my maturity.”

“Ah...” Felicity said. “Forty is the year we confront our eventual death.”

I grinned at her comment. “I’ve had some aging anxiety about turning forty, but I wouldn’t say I worry much about dying.”

“That is because you face your death every day and consider such fears to be a foolish waste of time,” Rasmus declared.

I shrugged at his accurate summary. “Risking my life has always been part of my job—part of what I was created to do. That’s why protecting my home means so much to me. It’s the one place I get to stop worrying about dying for a short while.”

My morbid declaration seemed to silence everyone. We completed the rest of the journey to the house without speaking.

We were almost at the doorstep when the sharp metallic twang of an arrow slicing through the air caught my attention. Just as I looked up, I saw a winged man suspended in the air, aiming his bow directly at me. My body jerked as the arrow he’d shot pierced my upper chest just below my shoulder and exited out of my back.

My fingers touched the entry point and came away red. An inch or two lower, and it would have pierced my heart. My entire chest exploded with fire, and I fell to my knees, unable to help doing so. Blood poured from the wound on both sides. I could see it staining the front of my clothes and feel it running down my back.

I looked up again. The bowman who shot me still hovered there, watching me bleed. There was too much distance between us to determine his identity, but his intent to kill me was unmistakable.

Given that I was rapidly bleeding out, he might have even succeeded.

I saw the winged man lower his bow. He made some sort of frustrated sound and then flew away.

Pain from my wound gripped me so hard I nearly couldn’t breathe.

Was my attacker a guardian, a vengeful angel, or some other winged creature? Maybe it was one of those fake guardians likethe ones Jack’s military scientists made. If I died, I would never know.

Goddess, why did my ex-husband and his mischief always pop into my mind when things went badly? Sometimes I felt like I would never get over the sneaky bastard I married and divorced.

My last clear but crazy thought was to wonder if Rasmus had any more shirts matching the one the bowman had just ruined trying to kill me.