The coven had a choice to make. Either they quit the curse, damned the consequences, and remained in Atlanta, or they got ripped through the portal and unleashed their hard work on thin air.
They didn’t keep me waiting long for their decision.
After I hauled my faeborn witch into the Faerie field, another arrived, and then Bishop stepped through.
Ambrose placed himself between Bishop and me and captured a third woman’s legs, turning our U into more of an M.
Between the three of us, we got a fifth and sixth witch through. Then the seventh and eighth. Then the ninth and tenth. Natisha was eleventh, and she fought tooth and nail to hold her ground until we won by virtue of them refusing to stop casting.
Once we had the ten women, plus Natisha, in the field, I shouted to Ambrose. “Close the portal.”
Releasing his witch, Ambrose planted himself in front of the circle and set about devouring it with gusto.
As it collapsed, my ears popped and began ringing. Nausea overwhelmed me, and I hit my knees. A headache made holding my eyes open difficult, but I kept my attention on the enemy as they fell silent.
And then dropped dead.
Twenty
“I don’t understand.” I crawled to the nearest body and checked for a pulse. “She’s dead.”
They were all dead. Every single one of them. Except Natisha. And she didn’t look so hot.
“The curse backfired.” Bishop squatted next to me. “They couldn’t stop it once they started, and they couldn’t hold it back after they finished it. They unleashed it, but without the intended targets present, five practitioners died to kill five daughters.”
Ambrose came to stand beside me, and he rested his hand on my shoulder. “Surrender or die.”
The authority in his voice, paired with his touch, shocked me into staring up at him.
For a heartbeat, I thought he was talking to me, and I wasn’t sure I had the juice to do anything about it. But he kept his sightless gaze on Natisha, and she wobbled as his ultimatum rang across the field.
“I offer you a new bargain.” I shuddered to speak those damning words to her. “Will you hear it?”
“Speak, shadow child.” Natisha melted onto her knees. “I will listen.”
“Call our old bargain done,” I pleaded, “and I swear your true name will die with this generation.”
The promise was a huge one for me to make, but it was one I felt certain Tisdale would back.
A soft breeze tickled my cheek, and it was enough to collapse the ancient fae onto her side.
“Natisha?” I propped my legs under me. “Are you…?”
“It is done.” Cheek pillowed on the lush grass, Natisha closed her eyes. “Now leave me be.”
Bishop and I watched her a few minutes, longer than any air-breather could hold their breath.
“Stay put.” He tapped my shoulder with the force of a hammer striking a stubborn nail. “I mean it.”
Wariness in every step, he made his way over to her and checked her pulse. “She’s sleeping.”
“As in sleeping the sleep of the dead?”
“As in the thing old fae do when they’ve grown bored or tired of living and want to forget for a while.”
As dedicated as she had been to her vengeance, I couldn’t see her just letting it go and deciding to nap.
“The curse rebounded.” I checked with Ambrose, who nodded. “She didn’t get a full dose, there wasn’t a sacrifice for her, but she designed the curse to kill those of her bloodline, and it struck her too.”
“That’s my guess.” Bishop huffed out a laugh. “How embarrassing is that?”
“The spares were never extras,” Ambrose murmured. “They were meant to take the hit for her.”
Two women would have laid down their lives to protect Natisha from her own curse.
“She’s going to be furious when she wakes up again,” I stated the obvious. “Like rawr.”
“She won’t stop until she gets revenge.” Bishop stared down at her. “It’s all she has left.”
“What do we do with her then?” I shoved a tangle of curls out of my eyes. “How long will she sleep?”
“The answer to both is—I don’t know.”
“I have an idea.” Ambrose offered me a hand and pulled me to my feet. “Not a solution for forever, but one that will work for today.”
“Do tell.”
“Can you carry her? I don’t have the strength.” He waited for Bishop to lift her. “Come this way.”
Ambrose led us to the copse of trees where the faegate connecting the archive to Faerie once loomed. He touched the arch of trees we had left unharmed and imbued it with the power he had siphoned when closing the portal in the grass. The center swirled once, and then it stabilized and hummed as it settled.
Though impressed, I was still wary. “How sure are you this leads back to the archive?”
“I am eighty-five percent certain.”
“I’ll go first.” Bishop gathered Natisha close. “I have a better chance of getting out again than you two.”
Unhappy to agree with him, I eased back to give him room. “Okay.”
“Chin up.” He winked. “Either way, this solves your Natisha problem.”
He left before I could yell that he was more important to me than postponing the inevitable.
Less than a minute later, as best I could tell, he stuck his head through. “Come on in, the water’s fine.”
Rolling my eyes, I gestured Ambrose to go ahead. “See you on the other side.”
“Don’t dawdle,” he warned and then entered the rippling magic.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I muttered, already feeling the pinch in my chest from his absence.
As I lifted a foot to step in, a force smacked into my lower back and sent me tumbling into the void.
Thanks to the age of the tether, I kept my wits about me as I skittered across the shale at the base of the archive. Digging in my nails to halt my slide, I glared at the faegate and cursed. “Ferro.”
Ambrose rose behind him, substantial and terrifying, but I waved him off to handle this gwyllgi-style.
Unhappy with me, Ambrose nonetheless settled for leaning against the wall to watch the fight unfold.
“You shamed me,” he bellowed, barely a limp in his stride as he stalked me. “Your mate took my pack.”
“You can have them back.” I leapt to my feet, wishing for my swords. “We don’t want them.”
“I must win their loyalty back by killing you,” he snarled, “and your mate.”
“Look, buddy, Midas let you off with a warning. Why can’t you be happy with that? Seriously?”
Ferro’s enraged snarl as he leapt at me raised the hairs on the back of my neck as I dove out of his way.
“Hadley.”
Chancing a quick glance at Bishop, I watched him draw a slender dagger the length of my forearm from a sheath I hadn’t been able to see at his hip until he touched it. He threw it to me, and I spun on Ferro.
The former alpha charged me, rage blinding him, but he wasn’t back at one hundred percent yet.
“Fine.” I danced aside, slashing his calf, and he howled with rage. “Have it your way.”