Page 36

Kit

“ Hold on !”

Lemeraties’s furious power flooded me.

I was fading, bit by bit, so wracked with pain, cold and exhaustion Even as I tried to cling to life, to Damon , I knew I wasn’t going to make it.

But then the cold burn of Lemeraties’s magic flooded me.

It hurt .

Like all the pieces of me were flying apart and being put back together, over and over.

“ Hold on !” she shouted again. Her voice was fainter, weaker. But still, the power kept coming. “You are going to live —live, and save the boy.”

Save the boy….

Doyle!

Her power kept funneling into me.

“ Hold on…Kit…” This time, her words were only a whisper.

I wanted to beg her to stop. Something was happening—I couldn’t understand, not with my pain-drenched brain. The pain —it was going to obliterate me—

“Use the blades, Kit…both. Together. It will be…enough.”

Her voice, her very presence vanished.

And then I was gasping, staring up at the sky.

Frankie fell away from me.

Damon snatched me up, his big body shuddering as he whispered my name, over and over. One hand was on my belly—I flinched, remembering the wound, but it didn’t hurt.

“How?” I whispered, reaching down to probe gingerly. And I found whole, healed flesh. I didn’t hurt . I felt… fine . I felt strong .

Damon pulled my face to his and kissed me. “Baby girl…I thought I lost you.”

“I think you did.” Breathing hard, I pushed him away and stared at his bloodied face. “You’re a mess.”

And he was—blood was drying in a macabre mass on his face, thicker under his nose, drying trickles of it painting a gory roadmap down his neck and shoulders from his ears.

He rose, still holding me to him. Abruptly, I realized he was naked. And we weren’t alone.

Nudging at his shoulders, I tried to put some distance between us—it took several tries.

“Damon…” I finally hissed, jabbing him in the side. He flinched and I realized belatedly that I’d hit a healing wound when my fingers came back sticky with blood. “I’m sorry!”

He kissed me again and let me ease away. The moment I wasn’t there, he swayed and his eyes went unfocused. “Whoa, hey there, big guy…”

Chang appeared and shoved a shoulder under Damon’s arm. I blinked twice at the sight of him. “Where did you come from?”

“That’s a long story.” He gave me a tight smile as he eased Damon to one of the smaller boulders that littered the plateau’s surface and practically forced the bigger man to sit. “Stay.”

Damon stared at me hungrily and I took a tentative step, then another, in his direction. My legs held. I wasn’t just steady —I felt like I could run laps around the whole damn island, my skin all but prickling with the energy burning inside. Frankie pushed herself into a sitting position as I passed by her and her mouth twisted a sardonic smirk.

“Don’t you look—”

Our gazes locked.

I was aware that both Damon and Chang were staring at us.

She’d sensed it. Just as I had.

But what was it…

Slowly, I turned and there, behind me, Doyle—no, Arsay was on her feet.

I didn’t know how . Her head was caved in on one side and she was smeared with blood. Her smile spread in a rictus across the face I knew so well and loved so much.

“You live .” Her voice was thick and garbled, but clear enough. “How is it that you live ?”

Use the blades…both, together .

Without letting myself think, I lunged for her, calling the sword first.

She tried to lift the sword she’d grabbed from the ground, but a snarled roar emerged from her throat—a tiger’s roar—Doyle fighting back and the sword fell uselessly from her hand. Driving Volund’s blade through her gut, I stared into her eyes. “Volund says hello.”

She went to her knees. A wispy form emerged from the sword’s hilt, coalescing into the ghostly shape of a man, his features proud and strong, a vicious, predatory smile lighting his face.

I didn’t let myself stare at the legendary weapons-smith.

I called the bronze blade and stared into the blue eyes, searching for Doyle. “Doyle, hold on .”

He was strong. Stronger, physically, than me. He could survive this.

“Do it, Kitasa!”

The echo of Lemeraties’s voice came to me like the shadow of a whisper, urging me on.

I plunged the bronze dagger into Arsay’s heart.

She threw back her head and screamed.

A sickly green light exploded out of her and on instinct, I yanked Volund’s blade from her form and struck into the growing ball of energy—no, it was Arsay’s soul , or whatever sorry excuse passed for one.

I buried the blade into it.

Something so insubstantial shouldn’t have form or mass, but it did and when I pierced it, it screamed .

I felt it trying to push me out and I pressed harder, harder…my feet slid back against the dirt and I ground my teeth together, shoved harder.

Something within it burst —and the blade glowed like a supernova. With a piercing, bell-like tone, that brightness engulfed the sickly, greenish-black orb and swallowed it.

The blade flared, that brightness folded back into the sword itself—and then it began to glow white hot. With a pained cry, I dropped it, shaking my hand.

“Get back!” I shouted.

I took my own advice, darting away from the painful, hot gleam of the sword and in the time it took for me to blink, I saw Chang dart forward. He grabbed the sword, spun in a smooth, fluid motion and hurled it.

It went flying end over end, hurtling over land and then water and seconds later, it exploded like a dying star.

I went to my knees and found myself staring into Doyle’s wide, pain-drenched eyes.

He opened his mouth.

“Don’t talk,” I ordered him. “Hold on! Please!”

He passed out, not saying a single word.

“Doyle!”