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And had it knocked out by Kit and sent flying into the side of the portal.

But unlike the spells that the witches had been throwing, it wasn’t destroyed, but simply thrown back, hitting the ground and bouncing once before they both flung themselves at it. But Morgan grasped it first. And blasted Kit with its power, flinging him backward through the air, toward what amounted to whirling, fiery blades from hell.

* * *

I slammed an elbow back into the stomach of a war mage, then whirled and punched him in the jaw. And forgot about the hand I’d cracked on the vampire’s stupid face, which was probably broken now judging by the pain radiating up my arm. Because dhampir bones are resilient, but there were limits!

But wasting time nursing a non-lethal wound in battle only assured that you received more of them, so I didn’t. I knelt down beside the mage instead, who was unconscious and whose belt had all sorts of goodies on it. A surprising amount, considering that the Corps had been fighting for a while now.

But they had expected the conflict, and were likely resupplied. At least, this one had been, or else he was a relatively new arrival, because his potion belt was half full and he looked to have an assortment of other, lethal aides stuck all over him. His nasty tempered coat kept me away from those, snapping at my hand with some sort of spell whenever I tried to access one.

So, I left them, and the weapons that were probably spelled to accept only his use, and grabbed the belt instead. And started back to my feet, only to drop back down again almost at once, because the glade had gone to hell in the moment that I’d been distracted. The free-floating battle seemed to have concentrated here, with mages pouring in from all sides.

The witches were outnumbered, but the Corps hadn’t expected a bunch of panicked ghosts, who were zooming about everywhere, getting into people’s faces. And spooking the hell out of the mages, who didn’t seem to know what they were. And, as usual with the breed, they assumed that what they didn’t know could hurt them, and started firing spells at beings who were already dead.

The Corps might have figured that out fairly quickly, only the witches definitely could hurt them and were busy doing so, and between the spells that they were firing off, the smoke, the fires, the massive portal spinning in the center of it all, and the crazy sky overhead, the war mages looked alarmed and confused, as if they didn’t know what to target first.

So, they were targeting everything.

I therefore hugged the ground, hoping that the dark cloak I’d stripped off of a bad-tempered witch would help to hide me, and scurried toward the portal.

I had one job tonight, since Mircea wouldn’t allow me to kill Morgan. And I was damned well doing that job! One way or the other, I thought grimly, watching as Marlowe was thrown free of the death spiral, and lay sprawled on the ground for a moment, appearing stunned.

But I knew that vampire, or I was beginning to. As soon as he got his senses sorted out, he’d be on his feet, throwing himself back into the fray—and the energy field that should have already consumed him twice. I didn’t like his odds on a third attempt, or of avoiding immolation from a passing mage while he tried it.

Of course, the same could be said for me, I thought, as a fireball nearly took off my head. I ducked, threw something from the belt at the bastard who had hit a defenseless woman while she was on the ground, and heard him yelp. And watched him go running while green flames licked at his heels, his shields protecting him for the moment.

And then the librarian came up beside me, drooling through her maw of fangs. “Need some help?”

“Love some,” I breathed, and we took off.

And, suddenly, I found my path a lot clearer, as even veteran war mages quickly found somewhere else to be. A moment later, I slid to a halt beside the vampire, who had just started to come around. For an instant, he stared at me in confusion, still half stunned.

But then he shook his head and looked around, spied the witch through the spiraling bands of light and wind, and—

“Not a chance,” I growled, and grabbed him.

He hardly appeared to notice. “Gillian!”

We could see her, but only because we were all but prone against the ground. I was doing it so as not to present a target for the frenzied mages and witches battling on all sides. Marlowe was simply trying to see his lover.

And as hard bitten as I was, the expression on his face as he stared at her was almost painful. I wanted to look away, but couldn’t, but I also didn’t try to drag him off, despite the filaments of power that kept radiating out of the portal and snapping at the sky and ground. It was dangerous here, but it was dangerous everywhere, and I didn’t think I was likely to be able to pull him away.

I didn’t think a team of masters could have done it.

“Gillian isn’t here,” the redhead said bizarrely, and laughed.

“Morgan’s spirit invaded her body. She can’t overcome it,” Marlowe informed me, before I could ask.

“Then Morgan is in control?”

“I don’t know. It switches off. But I have to get her out of there—”

“You’re not going back in!”

“—and sort this out after Gil is out of danger. Or would you prefer for time to be upended?”

“I wouldn’t,” someone said, and I jerked my head around to see Rhea standing there, with Hilde by her side.