Chapter 33

Shoshanna had been at work for ten grueling hours. The ritual space stayed silent as a tomb for long stretches, with only the occasional whispered request for water as Shoshanna kept vigil. It might have been more reassuring if there was some measured chaos, like the noisy bustle of an operating theater. At least then he would know that something was happening, that they were moving toward a solution—or even toward disaster.

But the witch remained quiet and unmoving for such long stretches that he sometimes wondered if time had stood still. All around his red-haired beauty, the lines of Shoshanna's spellwork glowed silvery-white. Now and then, they pulsed red, then a deep and unsettling black that dimmed the whole room. The marks on Shoshanna's skin glowed brightly, as if she wore long gloves and a collar of glowing silver lace.

Alistair had taken on guard duty, pacing in tight circles around the building's perimeter. Inside, Misha Volkov remained close at hand, occasionally placing one of those smooth red bloodstones inside a painted circle around the arcane array.

As they worked, he felt a pulsing heat in his breast, as if Scarlett was pulling at him. He remained motionless, but closed his eyes and foolishly tried to open himself to her, thinking I am here—take what you need.

If willpower and sincerity were all it took to save her, Scarlett would not have been in this predicament to begin with. He felt foolish, with that cynical voice in his head babbling, You have no magic! What are you thinking?

But he had been cynical and hopeless for much of the last two hundred years, and it had brought them no closer to a resolution. Perhaps it was time to have faith and be idiotically hopeful.

At five twenty-three in the morning, Shoshanna's voice rang out. It was hoarse, but loud as she said, "Scarlett, I've got you. Come on. I know you can do it."

His eyes snapped open, and he shouted in surprise. Scarlett's skin was corpse-white beneath a hideous tangle of black lines, as if a thousand tiny worms wriggled over her. The light of the spell was a sickly gray-blue, casting the whole room in a harsh shadow. An unsettling shimmer rippled in the air like a mirage, as if reality itself was faltering.

"What's wrong?" he said loudly. "What's?—"

"Shh," Misha said.

"Take her hand," Shoshanna said, beckoning to Julian without looking up. "I need you."

He jumped into the spot that she'd showed him in her briefing, kneeling next to his lover. Her hand was ice cold in his grasp, and he swallowed back his terror even as visions of her death crowded his mind.

You're here, wouldn't it just be like Armina Voss to kill her on the brink of salvation, wouldn't?—

"I'm here," he said, shoving back that cold, harsh voice. He clasped her hand tight, then shivered at the sense of cold piercing his chest. Their bond, usually so warm and reassuring, was icy and wet, slithering around in his chest.

I've never seen anything like it, Shoshanna had told him.

Perhaps his soul was tired and his hope was in shreds, but his love had never failed. "I love you," he said quietly, smiling as he conjured the image of her grinning at him across a crowd for that first time. He remembered how she'd leaned in for that shy kiss a week ago, and then the way she'd looked up at him as they tumbled into a heap in Armina's house when he'd thought to rescue her. Always that smile, always that twinkle in bright green eyes. Always that spark of hope, no matter how bad things became.

It seemed that he'd barely closed his eyes when her fingers twitched in his palm. "Come on," he said quietly. "I'm here. Come home to me."

A stronger twitch, and he opened his eyes to see her shifting slightly, her lips moving silently.

Cold surged through the room, and Shoshanna gasped. "Something's…"

Scarlett's body arched away from the floor, and there was a deafening sound like a thousand glass panes breaking at once. The icy sensation in his chest intensified, threatening to burst through him and rip him to frozen shreds.

Shoshanna fell back, breathing raggedly. Amidst the roaring noise, he couldn't hear anything, but saw Misha at her side.

Scarlett's eyes were black and bottomless, and her veins bulged black as if that magic was poisoning her. He acted on sheer instinct and grabbed her, cradling her close as she trembled. "I'm here. I love you, and I'm not letting her have you," he said, again and again until it was a nonsense mantra.

His mind flooded with nightmares again, but they were twisted and distorted. Sometimes he saw her in his arms, and sometimes he saw himself, as if he'd slipped into her mind. Everything was blood and ash, corpse-blue lips and dim dark eyes, and he sank into grim despair as he lost hope, as he accepted that it was all pointless.

"No," he said aloud. "I love you, and I'm not letting her have you. You are mine and you will stay here with me."

White exploded in his vision, and his body seared with a hot-cold that he couldn't comprehend. Scarlett's heart raced against his chest, her arms squeezing him so tight his bones creaked in protest.

And then she gasped. Firm hands clasped his cheeks, and he looked down at her green eyes, bright and clear. She was gasping for air, but she was awake and alive. "I'm here." It lilted like a question.

"You're here," he said, barely holding his composure.

"Shoshanna," Misha said loudly. "Shit, shit. Shoshanna? Can you hear me?"

Across the room, Shoshanna was shaking violently, with twisted tendrils of reddish black wrapped around her arms. The light in her spell suddenly surged, and Shoshanna let out an awful scream, the death-cry of a prey animal. The overhead lights shattered, raining down glass on them, and she went still.

"No!" Julian protested, reaching for her across the brilliant light.

"She's alive," Misha said, holding him back with a stop gesture. Then his head cocked. "Someone's here."

Julian's watch buzzed, and he looked down to see an alert in red. Perimeter breached.

Though she made no sound, Shoshanna's lips moved, her hands twitching like she was still doing magic. Her widened eyes glowed painfully bright.

"Her security spells," Scarlett said quietly. "This happened before." She stared at her hands, which were streaked with glowing red lines, as if her skin was cracking over lava. "What is this?"

Misha swore in Russian, then slammed another bloodstone into the ground before grabbing Shoshanna. Red light flared in his eyes as he yanked her away, stepping into another section of the floor where another spell was drawn. They'd prepared for everything, though they'd hoped it wouldn't be necessary. "I've got them. Go help," he said to Julian. "Scarlett, stay put. You're grounded right where you are."

Fury washed over him in a searing wave. He kissed Scarlett's brow and said, "Stay here."

Could he not have one moment to savor this? She was free—and he could not even kiss her lips without the fucking witch showing up to ruin his happiness.

He sprinted down the hall and leaped down the stairs, finding Alistair at the door with his teeth bared.

"Someone's here," they said in unison.

Julian nodded to him. "Remain here. Protect them. Shoshanna?—"

His tongue froze. Alistair would be distracted, perhaps even abandon his post if he knew.

"Shoshanna's inside," he said.

Alistair let out a low, ominous growl. "And that's where she'll stay."

If he had been in his office, he might have missed it, but out beneath the stars in the crisp night air, he heard the single brisk syllable: Go.

Female voice, one he didn't know. Then half a dozen sets of footsteps, fast and quiet. Dark shapes flitted through the trees, converging on the dark, glass-walled building at the center of the compound. In long, near-flying strides, he sprinted across the compound for the main building and shouted, "Paris! Dominic!" as he ran.

As the shapes crossed over the yard, golden lines ignited, but they were undeterred in their charge for the building. The Durendal were under attack.

If this had happened years ago, with Julian at Eduardo's right hand, he would have instantly taken the Elder to shelter and safety. But this was not that time. And Julian Alcott was utterly sick of standing back.His fangs descended, dripping cold and sweet over his tongue. With a low growl, he sprang through the cool night air.

Ahead of him, a dark-clad figure smashed through the glass windows of the administrative building without stopping. Alarms shrieked inside.

Blood boiled in his veins as he ran for the building. Shouts of confusion rang out inside, and there was the distinct smell of fresh blood, all of it vampiric. The stink of Night Weaver magic hung thick in the air.

"We're under attack!" he bellowed, praying that anyone in the building would hear him, in case their status was not immediately apparent.Alarms sounded, with a calm female voice warning the inhabitants that security had been breached and they should proceed to the nearest safe location.

With their uncertainty about Armina's movements, the court had been encouraged to stay close. For the last few nights, those who lived on-site had been gathering in their renovated lounge. The building was dark, though it seemed a natural darkness from cut power rather than the thick, stifling magic of a Night Weaver.

The smell of wood smoke bit through the air, and he closed his eyes as he pressed through a cloud in the hall to get to the lounge.

The large room that had once been a cafeteria for the school's students had been renovated into a proper lounge, largely under the direction of the Pierce sisters. The subdued celebrations of the evening had been disrupted, with chairs overturned and cocktails spilled.

Gemma, once a veravin and then a new vampire since the court's split, lay on her side, her head turned the wrong way. Perhaps she'd make it. Not a concern for now.

Across the room, Danielle Pierce was tussling with a brawny male vampire. The smell in the air was familiar, but it made no sense, and so it took Julian another five seconds to realize that it was Sasha Morozov who had Danielle pinned against the wall with one arm twisted violently behind her back.

"Sasha!" he exclaimed. Yanking on the thread of the Covenant, he poured his will into the magic as he had only rarely done before. "Let her go."

Sasha's eyes were terrible and dark, filled with oily black instead of their usual vibrant red. His head cocked, and he roughly slammed Danielle against the wall with a bone-cracking blow, then let her fall to the floor.

Then he smiled and lunged for Julian, barreling them through the room and into a pile of furniture.

"Sasha, what are you doing?" he protested.Above the collar of his shirt, his brother's skin was stained with red-black marks like the ones they'd seen before. "Stop this! Listen to me!" he shouted, his voice cracking. Was it an order or a desperate plea?

As an answer, Sasha rolled Julian off him and flung him up to the ceiling. With a blur of motion, Sasha drew a stake and moved to stab him as he fell. Twisting awkwardly through the air, Julian landed on his feet, grabbed Sasha's arm and twisted it in a ripple of snapping joints. The other man roared in pain, but didn't say a word. He simply grabbed a knife with his other hand and swiped at Julian's face. He was forced to let go to cover his eyes, and Sasha bolted for Danielle.

She let out a soft groan, draped over Sasha's shoulder, then pounded against his back. Julian gave chase, tripping over a fallen vampire as he burst into the hallway.

He saw a glint of familiar blonde hair a split second before something exploded at his feet. Blinding white flooded his vision, and he reeled. A biting sensation crawled across his skin as the scent of wood smoke invaded his senses. His muscles seized, threatening to bring him to his knees, but he let out a roar of fury and opened his tear-filled eyes. "You'll have to do better than that, Kristina," he bellowed.Her scent was unmistakable even amid the smoke.

There was no response, just the distant sound of something shattering. Then someone swore in French, a clipped shout. He felt the desperate tug of fear, a sensation he had so rarely felt from Paris.

Instinct pulled him along, his feet practically moving of their own accord. There in the lobby, amid the shattered glass and smoke, Paris lay on his belly with a thick wooden stake through his back. Swearing furiously, he writhed beneath Kristina Arensberg as she drove a dark metal stake into the back of his neck.

"Paris!" he bellowed. No!

A tall male vampire darted into Julian's path, throwing a wild blow at him. Julian snarled and kicked out his knee, dropping the man to the floor. Before the man could make a sound, Julian grabbed his head and twisted it like a bottle cap, severing his spinal cord in a satisfying squelch.

Julian stepped past him, not flinching as Kristina drew a gun and fired at him. Wooden bullets ripped through his thigh. "Kristina, stop it," he said, yanking on that Covenant bond.

But there was nothing there, no answer at the end of the line like when he'd pushed Paris or called to Scarlett.

There was no flicker of recognition in her eyes, not even as he used her name. And worse, just above the collar of her jacket, he saw the same markings on her neck that they'd seen on the woman who had brutally attacked Misha.

"I don't want to kill you," he said. "But I will."

A woman's voice rang out, loud and clear. "Find the witch."

In his moment of distraction, Kristina fired, a single wooden bullet ripping through his hip. He bellowed in pain as he fell, his joints on fire. Another shot followed, slamming into his chest.

Kristina yanked Paris up. "Where is she?" Her voice was cold and flat.

Desperation clawed at him. They had to end this somehow. It was one thing to lose a comrade, and another entirely to have to kill someone he loved. He struggled to get up, keenly aware of all the wood poison coursing through his veins.

"Paris!" he croaked, pulling at that bond. There was the tiniest flicker of recognition.

Paris's face was bloody, his eyes searching Julian. His head shook violently as if he was protesting no! but he let out one, heaving syllable. "Three."

With a triumphant grin, Kristina grabbed his arm and dragged him out through the main doors.

A terrible sound broke through the din. "Olivia!" Nikko's voice ripped through him.It came from upstairs in the administrative offices. The wrong way.

And Julian hated himself, but he had to keep going. This was about Shoshanna, and Paris knew exactly where she was. With horror gripping him tight, he murmured a quick but futile keep her safe on Olivia's behalf, then pushed himself to catch Kristina. The former hunter ran like a gazelle over the sidewalks, spurring the others on.

He caught a fistful of her jacket and flung her violently around. As she turned on him, she let out a fierce shout. In the moonlight, her eyes were deep, oily black. Then she grinned, baring those gleaming white fangs as she lunged at him.

Her fist slammed into his ribs, followed by a stinging blow to his ear. She was quick and deft, but he was four hundred years old. With a roar, he grabbed her by the ponytail and swung, then yanked her back to him. As she wriggled against him, he whipped her head around so quickly her spine snapped in a chorus of breaking bone.

Though his instincts screamed kill her for what she did, he let her fall to the grass and continued the chase. She'd survive.

Perhaps.

Whether he hadn't noticed or didn't care that his lover had fallen, Sasha was still running for Building Three with Paris and several unfamiliar vampires on his heels. Julian leaped, trying to get ahead of them, but he saw Sasha's head whip around. A heavy body collided with him mid-air, slamming Julian to the ground.

Sasha's head cocked, and he grinned, his teeth bloody. "No," he said.

Ahead of him, the building shuddered as the vampires yanked the doors from their hinges. Then there was a furious shout, and he recognized Alistair's voice roaring in fury. There was a crunch of bone, and the smell of fresh blood.

Sasha raised his fist, but Julian threw him off and scrambled to his feet to run for the building. The doors were breached, but he could hear Alistair still inside.

In the chaos, one of the unfamiliar vampires drew a glass globe from her pocket and dropped it. The smoke bursting from it was thick and black, stinking of Night Weaver magic. Sigils and runes ignited in the air, followed by a terrible scream from inside.

The stairs to the second floor were a bottleneck, and Julian planted himself in the hall. A stocky male vampire with a military buzzcut rushed at him, throwing wild blows. With the man's massive stature, he was likely used to winning fights, but he was sloppy.

Julian let the man's weight carry him past, then followed with a sharp blow to the spine. Bones cracked under his fist, and the man crumpled. He slammed the man's face into the cinderblock wall, then broke his neck and tossed him away. Without knowing the man's story—whether he had chosen to serve Lux or had been enslaved—he was willing to spare him.

"Bring her out," a cold voice taunted. Through the shattered glass doors to the lobby, he saw the glint of blonde hair—it was Armina's apprentice, Lux.

Behind her, Paris was standing, eyes dark and fixed on the distance.

"Paris," Julian said, tugging on the thread that bound them. It was still there, though pain throbbed in his head, like it was infected and raw. Paris still looked up at the sound of his name. "Misha's in here. You don't want to hurt him."

At that, Paris's head cocked, and he suddenly frowned at Lux. He lunged at her, grabbing her short blonde hair and twisting her head back. Light flashed around him as he let out a terrible sound of pain, but he didn't let go.

"Sasha!" Lux bit out. She staggered free as Sasha grabbed Paris and flung him away, then ran to follow. Then she fixed her gaze on Julian. "Just give me the witch. I'll let you have your time with Red before the end."

"Fuck you," he spat.

"Fine," she said, raising a hand. "Let him live, but make it hurt. Bring me the witch."

There was a blur, and he barely had time to react as half a dozen vampires charged him. He fought, realizing he was the last defense before they got upstairs to Alistair, and then to Scarlett and Shoshanna.

He sent Sasha flying with a smashed jaw, and left a slender male vampire he didn't recognize missing his head. Blows landed, and he crashed through a wall hard enough to leave him dazed. Blood poured down his throat, and he realized dimly, I'm going to lose. Elder or not, he couldn't fight off a whole squad of vampires trying to beat him to death.

There were no taunts or jeers, just grunts and growls as the vampires threw vicious blows. He did his best to block them, throwing them back and landing the occasional wild hit. Still, he did his best to block the hallway and keep them from making it upstairs to Shoshanna and Scarlett.

He knew the cost of this fight, and he would pay it like his brothers did. For the first time, he knew he was exactly where he had to be.

A high-pitched hum pierced through the noise, and blinding sunlight exploded in the hall. Amidst a chorus of shrieks, the vampires pummeling him recoiled. Then a gunshot rang out, and he heard Lux shout, "To me! Get me out of here!"

Through the blistering light, Julian could just make out a petite woman's figure pressed tight to a brawny male, both of them curiously beneath a black umbrella. He fell back, curling into a ball as he tried to recover from the onslaught of inexplicable sunlight. Gritting his teeth, he rose on shaky legs, stumbled when a surely-broken bone in his leg protested, and lurched toward the pair in the lobby.

A firm hand curled into his shirt and hauled him under the umbrella. In that small shade, he made out Kova's face. Tucked against his body was the petite, dark-haired witch, Stella. A thick shock of white glowed against her dark hair, while her eyes were a curious amber color instead of red.

"Go make sure they're gone," Julian croaked.

Kova raised a brow, but nodded and said, "Drop the spell."

The witch closed her eyes, and the sunlight blinked out. The relief was astounding, even as his eyes struggled to readjust. Julian limped out from under the umbrella, then lumbered for the stairs.

Skin scorched and bones aching, Julian slowly climbed and found more chaos upstairs. Alistair leaned against the doorway to the ritual space, eyes closed, blood streaked down his face. One of the dark-clad vampires lay at his feet, with the head conspicuously missing. Inside, he heard two strong heartbeats, which gave him hope.

As he approached, Julian cleared his throat. "Alistair, wake up."

"I'm awake," Alistair said roughly. Given that he was on his feet and not tearing at his hair, either he hadn't seen Shoshanna, or she'd woken.

Praying it was the second, Julian limped past Alistair and into the ritual space. The once-serene room was a wreck. Inside, Misha knelt near Shoshanna. Ceiling tile and plaster littered the floor around him. The wood floor was streaked with blood in distinctive symbols and patterns. Above them was a gaping hole in the ceiling.The bastards had ripped right through the roof to get inside.

Another dead vampire lay in the corner of the room. Scarlett lay on her back, arm outstretched toward a bearded man. His arms were covered in scorch marks. Panic crawled up Julian's throat until he saw her chest rise ever so slightly.

Shimmering red light formed a cocoon around Shoshanna, who lay deathly still. "Are they gone?" Misha croaked.

"They're gone," Julian said numbly. "Shoshanna?"

"She won't wake up," Misha said, his voice sounding so small and unsure. He lifted his gaze. "I don't know what to do."

And that frightened Julian as much as anything else, the thought that brash, cocky Misha Volkov didn't know what to do. "Is she alive? Can you take care of her for now?"

Misha nodded. "Where's Paris?"

"I don't know," Julian said brusquely, turning away before Misha saw the truth all over his face. "Scarlett?"

"Something's going on with the magic. If I didn't know better, I'd think she came back with some power of her own," Misha said.

He knelt next to her. "Scarlett?"

She groaned, eyes fluttering. "I'm here."

"Okay," he murmured, kissing the back of her hand. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know," she breathed. "Are you okay?"

"I'm good," he lied. "You stay here and help Misha."

She nodded, wincing as she tried to sit up. "Just a second."

Leaving her with the blood witch, he limped back down to the ground floor. There, Kova still held up the petite dark-haired witch. Her body was bruised, her lips almost blue, but her eyes were red and alert. "God, I'm glad to see you," Julian said.

Kova just nodded. "How bad is it?"

"Bad. I don't know yet," Julian said.

Where did he begin? Paris should have been the one to give orders to the Nightwatch, but he was…

He was gone.

Anguish clawed at him, but he shoved it down, pulled on the stony mask of the court's Elder. He went upstairs and found Alistair staring at Shoshanna, his eyes wide and fearful. "Why won't she wake?" he asked in a small voice.

"I don't know, but she's in good hands right now," Julian said.

Alistair looked up at him, brow furrowed. "She shouldn't have done this tonight. She was?—"

"If you want to be angry at me, I understand. Right now, I need you. We just got the shit kicked out of us, and I need your help. Please," Julian pleaded.

Swallowing hard, Alistair nodded and said, "Later."

"Go with Kova and sweep the residential buildings," he said. He kissed the back of Scarlett's hand, then said, "Stay with Misha in case anyone comes back."

"I could come with you," she said hopefully.

"Stay here with them," he said firmly. "Keep them safe."

Her brow furrowed, but she nodded. With Alistair on his heels, Julian headed downstairs, then across the compound to the administrative building. He had to check on Olivia, then put her on the job of checking for everyone.

He knew it was selfish, but he was furious. All he wanted to think about was Scarlett, and everything lay in ruins. Making a sweep of the compound's outer perimeter, he found fresh tire tracks and a dozen sets of footprints. The earth was scorched in strangely neat patterns, which made him suspect Lux had broken Shoshanna's spells here to breach their security.

His stomach churning, he hurried back to the administrative building. Inside, the smell of blood—human blood—was thick in the air. Julian raced down the hall and found Olivia's office ransacked. Smoke and gunpowder burnt in the air, and her desk was overturned, papers strewn everywhere.

Behind the massive wooden desk, Nikko sat on the floor with Olivia cradled in his arms.

"What happened?" Julian blurted.

When Nikko looked up, he saw the terrible bite marks on Olivia's throat and arms. Chilling dread trickled down his spine.The other man's blonde hair was stained with blood.

"No," Julian murmured.

Nikko was eerily calm as he stroked her hair, trying to tuck the messy strands back into her neat twist. Julian couldn't help noticing the dark red on her lips. "I didn't want to turn her like this. I promised her it would only be when she was ready. But it was already so late." His arm was bloody, clearly ripped open by his own fangs in his rush.He was pale, not yet recovered from his brutal injuries.

Julian knelt at his side, gently brushing hair away from Olivia's face. "She'll understand."

Nikko's harsh gaze hit him like a punch. "This ends with Armina Voss's head on a platter. I will not rest until I see her dead. If you argue with me, I will?—"

"I agree," Julian said.

Tears gleamed in Nikko's red eyes, and he nodded slowly, leaning down to kiss Olivia's brow. "It's okay," he murmured to her. "I'll be here the whole time. I've got you."

His throat tightened, and he left them alone as he finished his sweep of the building. Safira was in the old library, barely conscious. She'd been hit with a hefty dose of wood poison, but she'd killed her attacker before the poison left her incapacitated. Another of those metal stakes lay on the ground near her dead assailant, which indicated he'd probably been trying to get it into her when he died.

Even Karina Nowak had been roughed up, but she proudly told him she'd put three bullets into one of those bastards and sent them running when they came for her lab. Kristina was nowhere to be found, so her allies had probably carried her off.

Returning to his office, he found it untouched, though there was the smell of strange vampires inside. He grabbed his laptop and accessed their security software. Using the admin account, he sent a warning message to the court that announced a security breach from an unknown threat. It required everyone to respond with their locations.

As he was walking across the compound again, his watch buzzed with alerts, but he continued his grim march before checking it. Inside Building Five, he found the vampire with the buzzcut and the broken neck still lying on the floor, groaning wordlessly. A strange black sigil was etched onto his neck where most vampires would have borne a Covenant mark. While he was investigating, feet scuffed on the tile.

As soon as he turned, he heard Kova's voice announcing, "It's just me. Buildings are clear. Redhead named Phoebe was holed up with a couple of veravin and told me to tell you she was ready to help with whatever you need. Dominic's with Rachel in the infirmary and said he'll bring her out for triage at your orders."

He nodded, peering around Kova to see the pale, sickly-looking vampire witch behind him. "Are you going to light us up with that sunlight mess again?"

Stella shook her head. "Hurts me, too," she croaked.

He nodded and said, "Come up with me."

Upstairs in the ritual room, he found Misha still holding Shoshanna. His eyes were haunted. "Where's Paris? Why isn't he answering me?" The other man's phone lay by his feet, the screen still glowing.

"They took him," Julian said.

Misha's mouth pressed into a grim slash. "Where? Who took him?" Then his red eyes landed on Stella, and he grimaced. "Did you know this would happen? Start talking."

Stella shook her head. "I tried to warn you they were coming," she said. "Did they stake him?"

Julian nodded.

Her amber eyes flinched. "Lux is trying to turn them into puppets," she said.

"Can you undo it?" Julian asked.

"Any spell can be undone," she said.

"That's not what I asked," he replied.

"I didn't make it, but if I can see the original work, then yes," Stella said.Her brows arched. "I have Armina's original spell that she used to bind Kova and Carrigan Shea. It's not exactly the same, but I'd bet Lux used it as a starting point."

"Where are they hiding?" Julian asked.

She shrugged. "Before I came to see you all, we were in a cabin up in the Blue Ridge Mountains, but I'm sure they've moved since then."

"How many did they get?" Misha asked numbly.

"Paris and Danielle," Julian said. "In addition to Kristina and Sasha."

Stella cleared her throat. "She wants to take everything from you. All of you."

"They tried to kill Olivia, and Nikko turned her," Julian said. He shook his head. "Enough is enough."His throat worked as he stared down at Shoshanna. "How bad is it?"

"I have no idea," Misha said blankly. "She's alive, and her heart is strong, but she's not responding at all. It's like she's not in there. What did Armina do?"

Stella shook her head. "I don't know. She sent him to attack," she said, pointing to the bearded man. "Is he…"

"He's alive," Julian said. "I can hear his heart. What happened to him?"

Scarlett eased up from the rolling stool, rubbing her arms absently. As her fingers danced in the air, he saw those glowing cracks again, and the air seemed to warm. "I'm not sure. He came in here to attack Shoshanna. He was relentless."

Misha nodded. "I held him off while Scarlett dealt with him," he said. His brow furrowed. "Scarlett, did you use magic?"

"I think so," she murmured, staring at her hands. "I was fighting with him and trying to keep him away from Shoshanna, but there was another vampire coming through the roof. I just got frustrated, and I yelled in his face to snap out of it. And I saw something. It was like I saw the strings pulling him, and I just…I ripped them out."

"And what happened?"

"He just started yelling, fell to the ground, and then I kicked him in the face," Scarlett said matter-of-factly. "He's been out ever since."

Kova shrugged. "Good enough for now."

She stared down at the fallen man and said, "Just…if you have to lock him up for now, don't be cruel. He's been through a lot, and he came here to hurt Shoshanna because Armina forced him. I don't think he'd come after her on his own."

Julian nodded. He admired her integrity, though it was a blessing for Jordan Cole that his former ally had mercy, as Julian had none left. "Kova, you and Scarlett keep an eye on him here for now until we figure out something." He gestured to Misha and said, "Let's get her somewhere comfortable."

Misha nodded, carefully lifting Shoshanna as he rose. Julian followed as they trudged across the grounds, back toward Building One, where Shoshanna and Alistair had been staying temporarily. The sky was lightening to bruise-purple, with sunrise imminent.

They had just reached the door when Alistair shouted from across the lawn. Fear prickled through Julian, but there was no attack, just a frightened man who was facing the loss of his soulmate.

"I can take her," Alistair fretted.

Misha nodded to him and said, "I'll carry her. You go ahead and make sure there's a place to get her comfortable."

At that, Alistair nodded and ran past them. Guilt hung heavy on his shoulders. Shoshanna had warned him how hard this would be.

I won't do you any good if I have an aneurysm, she'd snapped.

They could have waited another day, but would Scarlett have made it? And if Scarlett had died before Armina's lackeys attacked, they might have lost everything. But what if…

The decision was made now.

Whether he wanted to be or not, he was the court's Elder. Everything under the roof was his responsibility. Steeling himself, he headed upstairs and found a hazy glow spilling out from the guest room as Alistair's quiet voice rumbled.

Lingering in the hall, he heard the other man saying, Just get some rest. I love you so much, and I'll be here when you're ready to wake.

Julian tapped lightly on the door and stepped inside. Shoshanna lay in the small bed with a sheet tugged up to her shoulders. Her mate knelt on the floor beside her, holding her hand. "How is she?" Julian asked quietly.

"I thought she might wake for me," Alistair said. "But it's like she's not in there."

"If you'd prefer, you have my blessing to take her somewhere else. If you think that would be safer," Julian said, his heart aching.

Alistair turned slowly. An ugly gash twisted across his cheek, tugging at one eye. His lip curled in a sneer. "I have your blessing, do I?" His lips widened into a madman's smile. "Now that she has done her work for you, you have no further use for her."

"That's not fair, and you know it," Julian said.

Alistair chuckled. "And where would we go that Armina will not follow us? Our home is lost, and this place, too. That bitch will not let us have a moment of rest."

"I'm sorry. I know you're suffering, and I'll do whatever I can to make sure she returns to us safely," Julian said.

"You should be sorry," Alistair said sharply. "I suppose I should tell you that I'm happy for you, but your Scarlett walks around amidst the destruction while Shoshanna may never wake."

"Alistair, that isn't?—"

"It isn't fair, is it?" Alistair said. "Call me flawed and vain. She knew she wasn't quite ready and wanted to do it anyway because she cares. And I know her too well; this was about not losing. She cares for Scarlett, but she also can't stand to lose, can't stand to think that she might not be strong enough to win. If I lose her…"

His heart sank as he knelt next to Alistair and saw the tears gleaming against the dried blood on his cheek. "I'm sorry," Julian said again. "I have asked more of all of you than anyone should."

Alistair chuckled, stroking his mate's limp hand. Her heart still beat steadily, though her scent was strange, muted somehow. "She would scold me for being difficult, especially given how unpleasant I was for so long. And I do very much want you to have your happiness, Julian. But I cannot muster the naive hope that she has." His head tilted slightly, and his bloodshot eyes met Julian's. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm taking the fight to her," Julian said. "And it will be over one way or another."