Ignoring them, as if they were as insignificant as shadows, I fixed my attention to Laurie. At some point, he had tipped backward, and his head was now propped against the wall. Thankfully, the position he was in kept half of his body out of the water. Peeks huddled beside him, thrusting his sword at one of the wererats in a clear threat. I didn’t tell him it was unnecessary—I was in control now, and none of these creatures were strong enough to break free of my influence—because I knew better than anyone the comfort of holding a weapon during moments of fear.
Whatever had caused my hesitation before was gone now, and I finally knelt at Laurie’s side, pressing my hands on the wound where his heart was. His blood was wet and warm against my skin. The feel of it made something inside me twist, but I didn’t flinch. Laurie was all that mattered now. His eyes were squeezed shut, his face twisted in a grimace. His beautiful skin, normally an alluring combination of silver and gold, somehow, if the light hit it just right, was the color of chalk.
“Laurie?” I said, my calm voice at odds with the chaos of the rats. “Laurie, can you heal from this?”
He didn’t answer.
The fissure within me opened wider. I arched my head back to look up at a wererat trembling nearby. She was small but muscled, and her brown hair was cut short around her ears. In certain ways, she reminded me of Cora, the young werewolf alpha I’d befriended. I noted this wererat wore a thick coat and tight jeans, the clothes surprisingly clean and well-made, despite our surroundings. Maybe there was more to these creatures than it seemed.
But that wasn’t important right now. This wererat was the one who’d put a knife through Laurie’s heart.
I could see the fear in her head, hear her wild string of thoughts. The words were a blend of German and Enochian that I only understood because I’d become part of her. Fuck, fuck, landed the killing blow, she’s going to blame me, holy shit, who is this bitch, fuck—
“The knife,” I said, making my voice sound vast and ancient in her mind. “Was it dipped in holy water? Was there a spell on it?”
Eyes wide with terror, she shook her head so hard that strands of her hair whipped across her forehead and stuck there. I got the feeling that if the female tried to respond out loud, the only sound to come from her throat would’ve been a high, incomprehensible squeak.
That was when Luther must’ve figured out that I was responsible for everything happening, because he started toward me with a thunderous expression, his huge fists clenched at his sides. I knew a single blow from one of those would make me see stars. I turned and, using the movement of my body to summon it, directed my power at him as if it were a physical thing. It was exactly how I’d turned toward Savannah and ended up killing Collith instead.
But this time, I saw the danger. This time, I didn’t let the fury spread to every part of my mind. At the last second, I pulled my power back, making it painful instead of lethal. I was mildly surprised when Luther fought back and managed to keep me out. I didn’t push harder; it wasn’t my goal to get past his defenses. Only to distract him while I attended to Laurie.
With the Rat King preoccupied, I looked at my friend’s face again, then at his injuries—despite the wererat’s claim about her knife, those gaps in his flesh didn’t seem to be closing. The damage must’ve been substantial to immobilize him like this. I pushed down harder on the spot over his heart, wishing for the first time that I’d been born as a healer instead of a Nightmare.
The pressure made Laurie’s eyes crack open, and they were bright with pain. The ends of his hair trailed through the water as he tried to move his head. His throat worked. Suddenly I had an awful suspicion that he was trying to say goodbye.
“Shut up. Shut up, right now. You’re not going to die on me. I won’t allow it,” I told him, tight-lipped with fury. Resolve hardened inside me, more solid than any rock or fist. I raised my gaze back to the Rat King of Munich and relented in my battering against his mind. He recovered so quickly that I might’ve admired him under different circumstances. In an instant, Luther’s eyes focused on me, and they were black with wrath. My own voice brimmed with violence as I told him, “Summon your best healer, right now, or I kill you all where you stand.”
“No,” he said. He didn’t even hesitate. I wondered what his people would think of his callous regard for their lives. Would this king be so ruthless if he knew they could hear him?
Tilting my head, I gave the Rat King another long, assessing look. He glared back, his lip curled with disdain. It was the disdain that triggered my own ruthlessness. This arrogant male was about to find out just who he’d fucked with. He must’ve had some idea, since he hadn’t taken a single step closer to me, but he was still a fool if he thought he would be walking away tonight. The howling rage within my body abated, replaced by solid ice. I felt my lips curve in a soft, sympathetic smile.
“Luther, dear, I’m afraid I need to call your bluff,” I said gently.
He frowned, but I didn’t wait for his response. With a single thought, I cut the illusions around me short. Still leaning over Laurie, I turned my head to watch the rats blink, some of them already straightening. Those were the ones quicker to realize what had happened.
The rest weren’t far behind, though. Soon every creature within sight was staring at me and the Rat King. “I require a healer for my friend,” I informed them. “I have presented your king with a choice. Acquiesced to my request, or die. Every last one of you, including Luther.”
Once I finished speaking, no one moved or spoke. I looked at the wererats standing closest to where me, Laurie, Peeks, and Gil were clustered. Sensing their fear, seeing it in their faces, I hesitated. It was more than fear for their own lives. They cared about this chauvinistic male who’d just tried to take me against my will. They would surrender to save him. I didn’t need to be a Nightmare to know it—the truth was in those black, beady eyes. What had Luther done to inspire such loyalty? What if I was about to add more innocent blood to my stained hands?
I decided to find out for myself.
I knew I probably didn’t need to touch the Rat King to wield the full extent of my abilities—I’d just used them on every wererat around us, none of which I had experienced any physical contact with—but other than the confrontation with Belanor, I hadn’t explored my limits since becoming a Nightmare again. Maybe a small part of me was afraid of my power when it reached those heights. Afraid that the rush, the sense of utter invincibility, would gradually transform me into the creature Gwyn predicted I’d become.
So I removed my hands from Laurie’s chest, trying not to think about how cold he’d become, and darted toward the Rat King.
Though it was probably the last thing he expected, Luther reacted immediately and tried to grab me. But I’d been trained by a vampire; I evaded his grasp by dropping to the ground and sliding over the dirt-covered concrete alongside him, scraping the skin off my palm as I used it for balance. As I flew past, I reached up and skimmed my fingers along the length of Luther’s arm. I popped up behind the wererat at the same moment he spun, drawing his fist back to hit me.
“Too late,” I crooned. He was mine.
Luther’s psyche was more well-guarded than I thought it would be, but this was no impenetrable wall like the ones around Collith and Laurie’s. I saw the Rat King’s eyes widen just before I reinvaded his mind, ramming through the clutter and piles that formed his inner self.