Evie 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.
Beside her, she sensed Jace gathering his energy. She felt that spark of amazement again. So this was the mate bond? This deep knowing of another person? Even as faint and new as the bond was between them, she felt connected to him in a way she never had to any man.
Then her heart sank. Jace was going to attack, weak as he was—and even though he believed he couldn’t win. She could feel his uncertainty—and his determination.
She gripped his hand. “Not yet,” she whispered.
“Can’t.” He subsided, his expression bleak. “Can’t…shift.”
“That’s bad, right?”
He grimaced in assent.
She glanced at Tyrus. How the hell was she going to steal back the quartz? If only she had a weapon… But even if she did, she wasn’t sure she could hurt Tyrus. He moved so freaking fast—and he was fae, practically unkillable.
Jace had gone silent again, his breath coming in shallow pants. Then his lips moved. “I’m sorry,” he said in a nearly inaudible voice. “For dragging you…and Kyler into this. If I hadn’t…come to your door…Tyrus would never have…” He trailed off.
“Stop it,” she hissed back. “This is not your fault.”
His throat worked. “Shouldn’t have…brought you to Baltimore. But seemed…like the right thing to do.”
“Oh, Jace. Don’t do this to yourself—I agreed to come, didn’t I? They would’ve gotten to us even easier if we stayed in Grace Harbor.”
His eyes flicked to Tyrus, his expression stark. “But when I make a mistake, people die.”
Her heart contracted. She knew he was thinking of his sister. “No one’s going to die,” she said fiercely. “Now stop talking. Rest.”
His lips quirked. “And think happy thoughts, right?”
Her cheeks heated. “You heard that?”
“Yeah.”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
“You.” He reached for her hand and brought it to his chest. “I’m thinking about you. You make me happy.”
Emotion welled up in her. She brushed a kiss over his lips, too full to speak, and then settled next to him, cross-legged, a hand on his thigh. “Rest. I’ll watch Tyrus.”
He nodded and shut his eyes.
Silence fell. Tyrus’s eyes had closed and his breathing changed. She was almost sure he’d fallen asleep. He’d set Jace’s quartz on the coat beside him. The fae were so arrogant and sure of their superiority, it probably didn’t even occur to him that Evie might try to steal it back.
She rubbed her palms over her upper arms. When Jace had sat up, the T-shirt she’d pressed to his throat had fallen to the floor. When she’d kissed him just now, her hand had touched the wadded-up material. The shirt was soaked with blood.
There was no more time. Jace needed his quartz—now.
She forced herself to wait another five minutes to allow Tyrus to fall more deeply asleep. That was when she realized something was digging into her ass.
She slipped a hand into her left pocket and caught her breath. A fae light had somehow shrunk to the size of a marble and hitched a ride. She rolled it between her fingers. It was soft and warm, and made her hand tingle. Nice, but probably not any help.
She left the tiny light hidden in her pocket. No point in letting Tyrus know about it. And knowing it was there comforted her, made the dark seem less threatening.
Let’s go, Evie. She crept across the floor. If Tyrus woke up, she’d say she was getting a drink of water. It wasn’t a lie; she was dry-mouthed with fear.
The quartz had stopped glowing. She brushed her hand over the dirt where she’d last seen it, keeping a chary eye on Tyrus.
When she couldn’t find it, she inched closer. Tyrus’s darkness reached out for her, but a quick glance told her he was still asleep. Heart in her throat, she scrabbled around in the dirt until her fingers touched a smooth, oblong shape. She snatched up the quartz and slipped it into her bra before rising to her feet and continuing to the sink. She gripped the edge, waiting for her galloping heart to settle.
Behind her, Tyrus stirred. She shot him a look. His eyes gleamed at her in the darkness but he didn’t say anything. Hands shaking, she took a metal cup from a hook and filled it with water. She drank deeply, then refilled the cup and returned to Jace, aware of Tyrus’s gaze on her the whole time.
Kneeling next to him, she slid an arm under his shoulders and lifted him so he could drink. He drank greedily and she realized with a pang that she should’ve gotten him water sooner. He’d lost so much blood.
But at least she’d retrieved his quartz. She turned her body so that Tyrus couldn’t see and slipped it into his palm.
Jace stilled, and then his fingers closed on it.
Her neck crawled. Tyrus was still watching her. Any minute he’d figured out she’d stolen back the quartz. “Hurry,” she whispered to Jace.
His chin moved in a slight nod. He didn’t move or show in any way that he was drawing on the quartz, but she saw the glow brighten between his fingers. She set her hand over his to cover it.
A minute passed, then another. When she flicked a glance at Tyrus, his eyes were closed again.
Jace’s breath altered. It was deeper, more powerful. He nudged her hip. “Help me,” he mouthed.
Of course. She mentally smacked her forehead. She was an amplifier; she could help Jace heal himself.
Tyrus might have weakened her, but nobody got the best of Evie Morningstar. She set her hand on Jace’s stomach and focused with everything she had.