“Siemen must not have gotten the memo.” I grimaced as my left arm reminded me I was fighting at half-strength. “Did you not catch the part where he tried to kill me? You were standing a few feet away from him. Did you blink and miss it?”
“A truce then,” she said, extending her arm toward me, and I noticed her nails had sharpened into metallic, silvery claws. “Will you accept?”
“I can’t stand aside while you systematically murder innocents, no.”
“How many innocents have you killed?”
“Enough to know even one is too many.”
“Your soft heart will be your downfall.”
Blue sparks crackled in her hair when she lunged for me. I whirled aside, raising my blade to deflect her claws. With my left arm going numb, I was stuck using one sword when I had trained with two. The POA had warned me not to depend on them, that swords got knocked out of hands during a real fight, but I hadn’t stepped up my practice with singles, and that meant I left my already useless side open for her to rake me from breast to hip with her claws.
The stinging burn left me breathless, but I ignored the pain. Twisting aside, I blocked her, but she met me blow for blow. She had lost more blood, but I only had the use of one arm. I knew who would tire first, and what it would cost me.
A throaty baying noise lifted the fine hairs down my nape, the sweet sound of backup en route, and Bonnie—Iliana?—hesitated.
I ducked under her guard while she was distracted and plunged my blade into her heart.
Beside me, Ambrose licked his lips, and I rewarded him for his good behavior.
Given permission, he pounced on her chest, knocking her back, and began feeding on the dying magic in her veins.
Certain he couldn’t overdo it now that her heart had stopped beating, helpful information I didn’t want to know how I knew, I sat down to wait on my backup to arrive.
That was the plan anyway, but darkness scooped me into its arms and carried me away.
Eighteen
Midas tore across the distance between him and Hadley on all fours, but he shifted as her knees buckled and caught her against him. Pain shot through him, radiating across his tender abdomen. The healer had sealed the wound, so he wouldn’t die from the strain of supporting her. It just felt that way.
Blood soaked her left arm, and bone glinted through exposed flesh. Her right arm twitched, her fingers flexing around the blade she clutched in her hand, the one that had ended a fae life.
“Hadley?”
A moan parted her lips.
“I’ll take her,” Ford said, coming up behind him. “You’re weaving on your feet.”
“No.” Midas hissed out a ragged breath from between gritted teeth, unable to let her go. “I’ve got her.”
“Suit yourself.” He shook his head. “At least let me get the sword in case she wakes up swinging.”
“No,” she protested, a barely there whisper.
“She must not be dead if she can complain about us taking her weapon.”
Her eyelids fluttered. “Ambrose.”
“Who is Ambrose?” Midas fought the instinct to clutch her tighter against him, like this Ambrose might walk up and yank her out of his arms. “I don’t remember anyone at the OPA with that name.”
Black edged his vision, but he put one foot in front of the other on his way back to the healer.
“I’ll find out.” Ford rubbed a hand over his face. “Goddamn it, Midas.”
Grim determination hardened on his face. “What now?”
“That you care? Changes things.”
“The case is closed.” Midas blinked away the tunnel vision. “Our involvement with the OPA is done.”
“You’re going to let her go? Just like that?” Ford kept a wary eye on the foliage. “You marked her, Midas. Multiple times. Once is an accident, twice is intent.”
“Marks wear off in time.”
“You know as well as I do that the more layered and nuanced they become, the more difficult they are to erase.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to admit you did it on purpose. That it was a conscious decision.”
“I can’t do that.”
“The hell you can’t. You won’t. Big difference.”
“There is no difference, not when it comes to this.” Midas tensed when Hadley made a soft noise then buried her face in his shirt. “I can’t be what she needs, so what I want or don’t want doesn’t matter.”
“I’m going to pursue her.”
Claws punching through his fingertips, Midas kept walking, afraid of what he might say if he opened his mouth.
The healer waited where they left him. One look at Midas sparked red annoyance in his eyes. The guards were quick to pluck Hadley from his arms, thankfully before he embarrassed himself by hitting his knees.
“Growl all you want,” the healer said to Midas curtly. “Just do it over there.”
Healers occupied a peculiar niche in the pack hierarchy that set them on equal footing with alphas in a way. Their high non-rank was the only reason they could treat wounded dominants without serious injury to their patients or to themselves. Even though Midas was a beta, the healer had no trouble staring him down or bossing him around when he felt it was needed.
Ford horned in on them, his brow pinched with worry. “Will she be okay?”
“Shoo” was his answer, which did nothing to unknot the tension coiling in Midas’s gut.
“I’ve seen her take worse.” Smiling all the while, Ford launched an elaborate story about Hadley culling a rabid chupacabra from the herd. “She shook that off, she’ll walk away from this too.”
Midas vaguely remembered the incident from months earlier, and he scowled at his friend for glorifying her near-death experience, but Ford just belly-laughed until he lost his breath.
“You have no idea how bad you’ve got it.” Ford whistled through his teeth. “This is going to be fun.”
That was the point when Midas realized the growl he had dismissed as Ford’s had been coming from him, was still coming from him, and only got worse when he comprehended the scope of his meaning.
Whether Midas participated or not, Ford had decided they were competing for Hadley.
Nineteen
Popcorn pinged against the glass lid on my pot while I melted butter in a saucepan on my tiny stove. I had sweet tea, beer, lemonade, and chocolate milk in the fridge. I had a pizza on the way with a side of tongue-torching buffalo wings, and I had an old favorite cued up for when my guest arrived.
I was as ready as I would ever be.
When the knock came, five minutes after my last outfit change, I didn’t have to look hard to find a smile. Ford was running early, but that was okay by me. I opened the door and…got a shock.
“Linus.” I didn’t know what to do with my hands, my feet, my face. “Hi.”
“I won’t keep you long.” His gaze slid past my shoulder. “Can I come in?”
“Oh, sure. Yeah. Come on in. Definitely.” I tripped getting out of his way. “What’s up?”
“I came to oversee the movers.” He chuckled at my shock. “You knew this day was coming.”