Page 18 of Royal Ransom (Princess Procedural #4)
Taliyah
I had to lunge to keep Maverick’s head from bouncing off the frost-coated floor.
One moment he’d been conscious and clearly in pain, and the next his face had gone slack, what little color he had draining away as he slumped forward. His limp body tipped sideways, trying to flop onto the bloody floor before I could reach him. I bruised my elbows on the table, but I managed to catch him before he could hit the ground.
I heaved, managing to arrange his dead weight on my shoulder when I was sure he wasn’t getting up. His eyelids were moving rapidly, and he kept gasping in short, shallow breaths. Warmth was pulsing steadily from the cut on his stomach, searingly warm in the chilly confines of the classroom. The Winter Sidhe who’d kidnapped him had turned the place into a deep freeze. On the one hand, that was good. It kept Mav’s blood moving slowly through his veins. He couldn’t lose a liter a minute in these conditions. On the other hand, cold was a swift killer. I couldn’t even form a makeshift bandage over the wounds with a patch of winter ice without introducing more winter magic into his wounds.
Panic kept trying to claw its way into my thoughts. I calmly and mercilessly strangled each useless excuse my brain offered to keep me rooted in place. I’d never know if the sense of calm, ruthless practicality came from me or from Olwen. Was it the cop in me or the winter queen?
Both, Olwen whispered, voice whistling between my ears like a winter wind. Maverick shuddered in my arms, one tight, reflexive movement that coaxed a moan of protest from his throat. I couldn’t cast winter at our enemy without hurting him more. Shit.
“Basil!” I shouted. I didn’t care if we were overheard. He was the only one with a prayer of stopping the bleeding. Saving the winter court would feel like a hollow victory if I lost Mav in the process. I didn’t care if I outed myself or lost this avenue of approach. Mav mattered more.
“I’m a bit busy, love!” Basil called back. He sounded breathless, but amused, as though holding off the advance of our furry companion was the most fun he’d had in years.
For all I knew, it was. Some people got their kicks in stranger places than others.
“I’m not your love!” I snapped back.
“An expression, not a declaration of intent, I assure you,” he called back over his shoulder. He sounded even more winded than before. “I’m trying to block the yeti’s entry, Chief Morgan. What seems to be the problem on your end?”
Everything. Everything was wrong. The whole point of sneaking in under Janara’s nose was to get the drop on her. Now that she knew I was here, she’d send someone to comb the place over. With any luck, they’d assume the summer portal was the culprit, but there was no telling how quickly the news would get back to Janara. Just leaving survivors would mean word would reach her, eventually.
I paused mid-motion, horrified with myself for even acknowledging the thought. It was one thing to know I’d defend myself against something trying to kill me. Another to think of doing it in cold blood. The winter Sidhe on the floor had to be dealt with—that was true. Could I really seize the knife he’d used on Maverick’s guts and use it to slash his throat?
No. Not while he was sleeping. I could kill him on his feet, but doing so while he was knocked out just felt… well, it felt wrong. Dishonorable somehow.
Prison, Olwen thought back.
She fed me the image of what she wanted. A few seconds later, the spell came together in my mind, crystallizing from pure thought until it was tangible enough to touch. I had to set Mav aside briefly, making sure he was comfortable before I stepped out into the hall to join Basil.
The narrow corridor that led to the improvised torture chamber hadn’t been used in years. I could see every cobweb clearly as frost formed on their filaments. It was a labyrinth of gossamer ice, and I had to brush bits of it off my clothes to reach the main corridor we’d been chased down.
Stepping onto the battlefield alongside a serious autumn spell slinger made me feel like a rookie on her first beat again. Basil had adopted a solid stance, putting the wall at his back, pouring power back the way we’d come. Green was absolutely everywhere, with bits of his namesake worming their way through the mortar to perfume the air. It smelled like a horde of zombies had ambushed a pizzeria. A huge, carnivorous plant with red spots and huge, golden teeth took a chunk out of the yeti’s side as we watched.
The sasquatch let out an ear-splitting bellow, staggering away from the dripping plant with a hole the size of a baseball missing from his flank. I could spy something gray and slippery in the gap and had to swallow back the urge to be sick.
“He’s bleeding,” I pressed. “Mav is bleeding. The crazy son of a bitch sliced him open. I don’t think I can touch the wound without making it worse. I need you to do something.”
“I’m a little busy at the moment,” Basil answered and motioned to the Yeti in front of us.
I nodded. “Let me deal with the abominable nuisance.”
I wasn’t sure what language he used, but I was absolutely certain that he was cursing sulfurously under his breath at me when he retreated back the way I’d come, leaving me alone in the wide, empty hall with the predator.
“Fine,” he called back. “Put it down, won’t you? I can trap the little lord in this room for a time. That thing, not so much.”
I’d give sasquatches this much. They took a licking and kept on ticking. The creature staggered upright, and the harsh lights from behind us illuminated it for the first time since we’d arrived. It was around eight or nine feet tall and resembled a polar bear walking upright. At least, until you got to the face. The fur receded just enough to give you the general primate shape I was so used to seeing when Roy transformed.
I’d never asked, but I had to assume that yeti were a different branch of Roy’s family tree. This man wasn’t quite as broad as Roy, but he was definitely as muscular. The hair was thicker in beast form, which made it hard to judge where its vitals were hiding. Peachy.
“How do you suggest I do that?” I shouted back.
No answer, except the rumbling snarl of the yeti as it prowled closer, going onto all fours like a silverback. It shuffled forward, teeth bared. It didn’t even seem to mind the gore pulsing steadily from its side. There wasn’t enough reason in its eyes to care. It would keep coming for me until one of us was dead on the ground.
“Super helpful, Basil,” I muttered under my breath.
I rubbed my arms as cold prickled across my skin. It wasn’t exactly painful, but I could feel the glacial swell of power as it passed through my fingertips and issued into the air around us. I slammed that power into the ground, reaching for the cold and the damp I knew waited below. This was a castle made of stone. No matter how well maintained, there’d be leaks. Standing water. Enough to expand and crack a stone wide open.
The first stone popped out from the rest, cracking in two. It wasn’t the last. Before long, it was like watching gravel popcorn, pieces of stone flying in every direction. I managed to flatten myself against the stone, avoiding the worst of the winter hailstorm. The sasquatch wasn’t so lucky. I didn’t look at the result too intently, but I had the impression of salsa. Red, with too many unidentifiable chunks. I couldn’t let myself examine what I’d done too closely, or I was going to throw up. And that wouldn’t save Maverick.
I waited for a minute longer than I had to, just to be sure Big, Ugly, and Stinky wasn’t getting back up to come at our backs. But the only movement out in the hall was the pieces of rock settling on top of the ruin of the corridor.
By the time I returned, Basil had a mesh of autumn leaves over Mav’s wound. His skin was the color of skim milk, which was an improvement over the chalky white he’d been a few minutes ago.
“I can’t do more for him here,” Basil said. He looked tired but shouldered Mav’s weight when I gestured for him to take a free arm. “We have to get out of here. If we’re lucky, there will be supplies we can use on the other side.”
“And if we’re unlucky?” I asked.
He didn’t answer, which was answer enough. If we didn’t get Maverick help soon enough, he was going to die.
Not fucking happening.
We’d been through too much to end things here. Mav wasn’t going to die at the hands of some pompous winter Sidhe. If any winter faerie got to axe him, it was me. It was one of the perks of being his wife. I had dibs.
“Fine,” I said with a sigh. “Lead on, Basil, and be quick about it.”