Page 46

E vie crouched over Jace, instinctively trying to protect him as the tall, hard-eyed shifter—Corban—closed them into the darkness with Tyrus again.

Jace groaned. She ran her hands over him, furious tears pricking her eyes. What kind of coward kicked a man when he was down?

And what did Tyrus mean, Jace might not last the day? Icy shards pierced her chest.

No fucking way . She was not going to let Jace die.

She squeezed his hand. “You’re going to be all right—I promise.”

He muttered something unintelligible.

“Jace? Can you hear me?”

This time he didn’t even answer. Her fear spiked.

To her left, Tyrus rustled and she guessed he was sitting down. All she could see were his eyes, a strange blue-black glow in the gloom. Better than that terrifying red, but not much.

Gradually, her eyes grew accustomed to the dark and she could make out Tyrus’s outline. He’d settled onto his coat, his back against the wall. Jace’s quartz was suspended from his fingers, a weak green light at its heart.

If Jace had his quartz, he could heal himself. She had to get it back.

Black tendrils teased at her arms and face, but Tyrus seemed tired. The sun was fully up now—this must be when he slept. She slapped at them, but her hands went right through them. Then the tendrils brushed over her breasts.

Oh, no. Hell, no .

She sat on the floor with a thump and crossed her arms over her chest. “No sex,” she rasped. “That’s not part of the deal.”

“No? Not even if I tell you I can heal the fada?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m a healer in my clan.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding.”

“A fae can’t lie, Evie.” A cold smile curled his mouth. “Of course, a healer knows precisely the right places to cause pain, too.”

The tendrils snaked past her. Jace jerked and then whined, the sound of a hurt animal.

Evie’s heart clenched. “Stop it!” She lunged at Tyrus, only to realize too that that was what he’d wanted.

Strong hands clamped on her arms, forcing her to her knees between Tyrus’s thighs. She tried to strike at him, but he simply tightened his grip.

Her fingers curled helplessly at her sides, but she raised her chin and snapped, “Get your fucking hands off me.”

He trailed cool fingers down her throat, teasing her breasts above the bra. She shuddered and jerked back.

“Should I hurt him again?” A soft, malevolent murmur.

She briefly closed her eyes—and surrendered. “You heal him first,” she gritted. “Or I’ll—I’ll—” She stuttered to a halt, because she hadn’t a clue of what to threaten him with.

“Or you’ll what?” Tyrus nuzzled her ear. “Fight me, Evie.”

Her spine went rigid. Run , her brain screamed, but he had her trapped.

The darkness latched onto her like a many-armed octopus. Sucking at her…feeding on the fear and anger, and it hurt . Like no pain in the world. Icy-hot agony that slithered over her skin, drank from her soul, caressed her most secret parts—rape without the physical act.

“Fight me.” A dark breath against her throat.

She bared her teeth at him and he chuckled. She shouldn’t fight him, she knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help it. It was instinct, a trapped butterfly battering its wings against the glass.

Her hands came to Tyrus’s chest. She dug her nails into him through the silky material of his shirt and his head dropped back, eyes slit with enjoyment.

Her stomach bottomed out. Whatever she did, she was fucked. Hopelessness swamped her. Her only consolation was that he’d forgotten Jace to focus on her.

Block him .

But she couldn’t. It wasn’t like in the kitchen when she’d had Kyler to help her, and Jace had been intermittently shielding them as well. This time Tyrus was totally focused on her, and he was strong, relentless. All she could do was endure.

He fed on her for what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes, and then released her. He sat back, replete.

She slumped on the dirt floor, breath scraping in and out of her lungs.

A bone-chilling growl filled the small space. “Let. Her. Go.”

She lifted her head to see Jace’s eyes glowing green with fury. He was struggling to sit up.

“It’s okay,” she whispered.

He didn’t seem to hear her. The growls continued, his cat pushed to its limit.

Evie forced herself to crawl the few feet to him. She felt old, wrung out, each movement of her arms and legs an effort. The whole time, she felt Tyrus’s gaze on her, but he said nothing.

When she reached Jace, she set her cheek against his, still on her hands and knees. Her breath shuddered out. She was shaking, her fingers and toes like ice. She inhaled and tried to calm herself.

“Don’t try to get up—please. It’s okay.”

His gaze swung to her. His jaguar stared out of his eyes. She touched his face. “I’m okay.”

His head tilted and he rubbed his cheek over hers, catlike. The prickles of his night-beard were comforting—a welcome antidote to the smooth, cold tentacles.

“Come. Here.” Guttural tones that she had to strain to understand.

She lay next to him, careful not to jar his injuries. He slid an arm under her, and she nestled her head into his shoulder. Seeking safety, even though she knew it was just an illusion. Tyrus wasn’t going to let them go.

Gradually, she grew warmer and she realized how cold Tyrus had left her. Her shivers ceased, and she sensed Jace calming.

When he spoke again, his voice was that of a human. “Kyler?”

“Back at your den. I made Tyrus leave him behind.”

He exhaled. “Thank the gods.”

She nodded, although she wasn’t sure how much control Tyrus had over the black wolf, who must’ve been Corban. And on top of that, Tyrus had fed on Kyler, too. She swallowed and burrowed closer to Jace.

Kyler’s okay. He has to be . If they got out of this alive, she’d never bitch at him again.

Jace set his mouth to her ear. “Hang on,” he said in a faint voice, each word clearly an effort. “I got word…to Adric before…they took us. He’ll come...save you. And I’ll keep that…prick away from you…until then.”

“ No ,” she returned in an urgent, equally low tone. “Don’t try anything. He can’t hurt me. Not really.” Not like Jace, who was rapidly growing weaker. She knew he had to be hurt bad—he hadn’t even been able to get off the floor to help her when Tyrus was feeding on her.

Jace’s only reply was a grunt.

She drew in a breath. “I can get your quartz.”

“No.” His grip on her tightened. “I don’t want you…anywhere near…him.”

She didn’t reply, but she’d made up her mind. Jace needed his quartz to heal himself. They couldn’t count on Adric finding them in time.

Tyrus shifted position. She sat back up so she could keep an eye on him, but Tyrus was only settling back against the wall. Why the hell didn’t he go to sleep? But he seemed wide awake, although relaxed, sated from his meal.

Tyrus spoke. “You and the fada—you love him?” He sounded curious, but she didn’t trust his reasons for asking—and she was damned if she’d tell him before she’d told Jace himself.

She moved a shoulder. “I haven’t known him that long.”

Jace tugged on her hand. When she leaned closer, he murmured, “I love you ,” the words a warm tickle in her ear.

She blinked. Heat crept into her chest, chasing away the last of the chill. “I—” She halted and shook her head.

“You feel it.” Jace brought her hand to his heart. “My mate,” he mouthed.

“You’re telling me this now?” she whispered back.

He gave her a crooked grin. “Didn’t know myself…until a few hours ago.” He sobered. “Wanted you to know…in case…”

She shot a glance at Tyrus, but he was holding Jace’s quartz by the cord and examining it.

“You are not going to die,” she told Jace.

He pressed a kiss to her hand and then released it. He opened his mouth and tried to speak, but couldn’t.

She squeezed his fingers. “You’re not going to die. I won’t let you.”

“Mate bond,” he said at last. “Not complete. But might help. The two of us…together…stronger.”

She nodded. She did feel calmer, and she could swear there was a fine thread connecting her to Jace. Her heart filled with wonder. Could this be the mate bond? She touched a hand to her sternum, right where she felt the connection, and Jace nodded as if he’d heard her question.

Tyrus closed his fingers around Jace’s quartz. He touched it to the hollow of his throat and muttered something in a language Evie didn’t recognize. “Sit up.”

His dark eyes focused on Jace—and Jace jerked upright. He snarled, and Tyrus said, “Quiet,” and Jace’s mouth clamped shut as if a switch had been flipped.

Evie started. What the fuck?

Tyrus’s mouth curved. “The possibilities are so interesting. I could order you to do anything. Kill that niece of yours, even.”

Fine hairs raised all along Evie’s spine. “You wouldn’t.”

Jace’s throat worked. His expression was murderous, but whatever Tyrus was using to control him wouldn’t allow him to speak.

“No?” the night fae said. “I can’t kill her myself—she’s protected by a ward. Anyone who touches her dies himself. But if Jones does it for me…” Tyrus released the quartz and let it swing from his fingers.

Whatever had been holding Jace upright released. He flopped forward like a marionette with its strings cut, but came right back up with a snarl. He lurched at Tyrus, but the night fae touched the quartz to his throat again.

“Stay where you are.”

Evie had worked out what Tyrus meant. Her stomach dropped. “He would die, too.”

“Exactly. It would kill two birds with one stone, yes?”

Jace strained against the invisible bonds, the cords of his neck quivering with tension. But it was no use, and he was dangerously weak. All too soon his shoulders slumped. He sent Evie an anguished look and leaned back against the wall.

Evie took his hand and racked her brain for ideas. But she kept circling back to the one sure thing: Steal back Jace’s quartz.

Tyrus’s eyes drifted shut, but she’d bet her last dollar he wasn’t sleeping. Still, if they were going to fight back, it had to be now, before the night came again. Daytime was when a night fae was weakest.