Page 133 of Cold Curses

The sound of sirens cut through the air. Connor landed another punch before jumping to his feet. Black’s left eye was swollen and already turning purple. His mouth was a mess.

I aimed my replacement sword at him, but got too close. Black grabbed my ankle and searched for another route to monster. I was frozen by that magic, but Connor ripped me away as CPD units and one federal vehicle pulled over the curb and onto the grass in front of us.

“Hands up!” someone yelled out.

“You’re done,” Connor said to Black, teeth bared and blood trickling from a cut on his forehead.

Black glanced at the cops now moving toward us.

The fireball was moving before I saw him gather it. It flew toward me, and I braced for the impact. But Connor spun me again, and it struck him in the back.

I heard the sharp intake of breath, saw the sudden shock of fear and confusion in his eyes. Then he slid to the ground.

“Connor!” I screamed, ignoring the chaos igniting around us as officers spilled out of their vehicles.

I dropped to my knees, rolled him over. His eyes were closed and his face had gone gray, and my heart all but stopped beating. I ignored running footsteps and yelling, and checked for a pulse, found nothing.

I wasn’t sure if human CPR was right for shifters. So I did the only thing I could think of. I slapped him.

“Connor Keene, wake up!” Tears were rolling now, but I didn’t feel them. “Wake up!” I screamed again.

Then I tried CPR, breathing air into his lungs and beginning chest compressions. Part of me wondered why no one else came to help me, but I kept counting and didn’t stop to ask.

“Breathe,”I told him. “Breathe, or I swear to god, I will hunt you down in whatever dimension you’re in and kick your ass myself. You are not going out because of Jonathan Black.”

Or because I failed to protect you.

Or because you threw yourself in front of me.

We protect each other.But how was I going to do that? How could I do that as strong as Black was now?

Another round of breathing and chest compressions, even though fear threatened to constrict my airways into uselessness.

And then Connor sucked in a breath.

I helped him turn to the side as he breathed in oxygen and coughed out wisps of smoke.

There were more tears now, and I wasn’t sure if they were all from relief or fear or absolute fucking fury that Jonathan Black had hurt Connor.

After a moment, Connor glanced up at me. He still looked pale, but he was awake and breathing.

“You look relieved, brat,” he said, glancing up at me. He shifted, winced. “Did you break my ribs?”

I sobbed, pressed a kiss to his lips, then lowered my forehead to his as more tears slipped from my eyes. “I thought that was it. I thought you were gone.”

“I’m here,” he said, but his voice was hoarse.

I knuckled away tears, pointed a finger at him. “You arenotallowed to die.”

Even seconds after cheating death, he chuckled. “I’m not immortal, Lis.”

“No,” I said. “You misunderstand.I will not allow you to die.I’ll figure something out.”

There were curses behind us, so I stopped contemplating how to immortalize a shifter and looked back.

Gwen, Alexei, cops, Lulu, Swift, Hammett. All were alive, if a little bruised. And all looked Very Fucking Displeased.

“Stay here,” I said.