Chapter 35

He descended the stairs and found Safira waiting in the lobby of the main building. Her face was still bruised, her veins bulging from the wood poison. "The kids are all yours," he joked weakly.

"What's left of them," she said solemnly. Her jaw ticked. "I want to go with you."

"I need you here. If I fall, you and Nikko have to keep them together. Make sure Olivia survives the transition," he said.

Her hand brushed the back of her neck idly. If he died, the Covenant would shatter, leaving what survived of their ragged little band in disorder. Safira was strong enough to keep her sanity, and she'd deal with the others well enough until they figured out a solution.

Her brow furrowed. "Don't talk like that."

"It should have been you or Paris from the beginning," he said, cupping her cheek. He leaned in to kiss her brow, and she held his hands firmly.

"Please come back. Don't hand yourself off to her unless it's the only way," Safira said. She pulled back, forcing him to look into her eyes. "You have something to live for now. Don't give it up. Come back to us. Think of what this court will be one day."

He nodded to her. Her pretty eyes widened as she watched Scarlett coming down the stairs. "Did you—" she mouthed.

"Didn't work," he whispered. Dread pooled in his belly as he pulled back from Safira. Scarlett was dressed in black, a backpack slung over her shoulder. She barely looked at him as she strolled past. Her red hair hung long and loose over her back.

So much for Paris's bright plan. All he wanted was for her to be safe. After all of this, she had to have a chance at life. How stupid would it be to risk so much to break the curse, only for her to die at Armina's hands anyway?

Even now, he considered turning on her, hooking his arm around that soft throat, and holding it until unconsciousness took her. It wouldn't take long, would barely hurt.

And when she woke up a few minutes later, she'd break her way through to get to him. She'd made that much clear.

What would Eduardo do?

Outside, she nodded to Kova and spoke quietly to him. He took her bag and tossed it into the back of the SUV.

Scarlett was ferocious in a way that Brigitte hadn't been, but that stubborn loyalty was just the same. She cared for his family, would probably grow to love them if she survived.

And it didn't matter what Eduardo would do.

He was not Eduardo. He was his own man, and if fate had seen fit to free her from the curse, then perhaps fate had something left for them.

He stalked outside and caught her before she climbed into the backseat. Planting one arm against the door, he caged her in. Her heart thumped, and he tried not to react to the hint of desire perfuming the air.

Her green eyes narrowed in fury. "I told you I'm going."

"Fine. I am still in charge of this court. This is my mission. Do you understand?" he asked.

Her jaw jutted out, but she pursed her lips, tongue moving as if she was rolling over her words carefully. "I understand. As long as you don't sideline me."

"I won't. But you follow my orders, just like everyone else," he said.

With an angry huff, she nodded. "Fine."

And God, he wanted to shove her back and kiss her like his life depended on it, but it was not the time, and he would not have the willpower to stop with a kiss.

He nodded, then backed away, rounding the SUV to climb into the front seat. Kova had already loaded his weapons for him. For once, he didn't protest the royal treatment.

This was certainly not how he had envisioned taking down Armina Voss. He had fantasized about it many times over the years, with Paris and Dominic at his sides, sometimes alone, sometimes with the entire court converging on her. But he had not imagined a ragtag group that included Kova, Scarlett, and a Night Weaver apprentice who had betrayed her mistress before being forcibly turned into a vampire. Fate had a twisted sense of humor.

Kova nodded to him silently and slid into the driver's seat next to Julian. There was no question that he would join the fight,especially now that he was free of Armina's bindings. His new Vessel was in the back with a bag in her lap, fingers fiddling nervously with the strap. Dominic was folded awkwardly into the third seat, eyes distant as he stared out the window.

Misha settled into the back seat, said, "Let's roll," and then closed his eyes as Kova began to drive.

"What's the plan?" Scarlett asked as Kova pulled onto the road. Dark glasses covered his eyes, but he still squinted against the low afternoon light.

Misha glanced at Julian, as if to ask permission. With Armina Voss's magic to contend with, the blood witch was far more qualified to call the shots than Julian was. Julian nodded to him and leaned back in his seat to listen.

"There is very little plan. We have no idea what to expect when we arrive. Stella will do her best to deactivate Armina's protections and neutralize her magic or Lux's," Misha said. "And she understands that if she betrays us, I will rip her head off so fast she will never feel it."

"I do," Stella said absently. "Please don't."

"I think I can help. With the magic, not the decapitation," Scarlett said.

Stella reached over and grabbed her hand, then yelped in surprise. "Good Lord, Scarlett."

The dhampir stared at her glowing hands, then folded them against her chest defensively. "What is it?"

"I have no idea, but you're like a live wire," Stella said. "Just be careful. No telling what all her wards will do to you."

"Are you sure it's not going to bother you to kill Armina?" Misha asked.

Stella lifted her head and raised an eyebrow. "She tried to kill me. All I ask is that if something goes wrong, you don't leave me there. My magic has been unpredictable since she tried to rip it out of me. I know you don't trust me, but I'd hope you wouldn't fuck me over."

"We won't leave you. Our main mission is to break Armina's hold on our people," Julian said. "And then we kill the witch. Perhaps not in that order."

"I guarantee Armina and her apprentice have wrapped themselves up in all sorts of nasty death curses. Any ideas for defusing those?" Dominic asked."Stella?"

"I'm not sure. I don't have one. Armina said I wasn't strong enough for it yet. Lux night," she said.

Misha shrugged. "Shoshanna can break the curses. It's a non-issue."

"Assuming she survives," Kova said without flinching.

They were quiet a long while. "We'll deal with that if it happens," Misha said. "I don't care if I end up cursed a thousand times over. I will not walk out of the place without Paris."

"Maybe let me try," Scarlett said. "I broke her hold on Jordan."

"You think you did," Misha reminded her.

"Well, an instant knockout with no side effects is still a win," she muttered.

The drive passed in near silence. Afternoon gave way to twilight, and the last fiery streaks of sunset faded as they crossed the state border into South Carolina, then into North Carolina.

Night had fallen by the time they reached Charlotte. The leaden heaviness of daylight faded, and his senses sharpened. Kova nudged him and said, "We're nearly there. Eyes up."

Silently, they drove past the sprawling house. Black trash bags were clustered around the front door, like a cleanup crew had been hard at work.

"Her wards have been repaired," Misha said as they drove past the house. Julian craned his neck, as if he could see the shimmering magic around the mansion.

Stella glanced at him. "I can take them down. Leave that to me." His eyes narrowed, but she just smiled faintly, her mismatched eyes glinting.

"Kova, you'll stay with her," Julian said.

"You don't trust me?" she said with a sharp laugh.

"I'm giving you backup," he said hotly. He glanced back at Misha. "I want you to stay back. Help Stella, or pick up the slack if she fails. And I fail, you make sure to get Paris and the others out."

Misha's red eyes narrowed, his lips parting with what was sure to be a protest. But he nodded. "I don't like it, but I'll do it."

"Fair enough," Julian said, turning to Dominic. "You want to look the witch in the eye with me?"

His old friend spared a smile. "Not particularly, but we started all this, and it's only fitting."

Kova parked down the street, then headed to the trunk to fetch the cooler he'd brought. He distributed the blood bags, handing two to Julian with a nod. Without ceremony, Julian tore into the first, wincing as the too-cool liquid spilled down his throat. Even with the off-putting temperature, his body thrummed with anticipation and hunger, and he gulped it down. The second left him feeling like kindling in want of a spark.

"I will not give any grandiose speeches," Julian said quietly. "I thank you for being at my side. I am prepared for whatever happens. I pray that I am worthy of your loyalty."

But as they emerged into the cool night air, he wondered if that was true. Was he prepared to die? Was he prepared to let Scarlett walk in at his side?

As he watched her tucking a tight braid around itself, securing it with pins, despair nearly overwhelmed him. What if he lost her after all of this?

Misha drew his blade, drawing Julian's gaze. Tall and elegant, he could see why the man had caught Paris's eye. He was smart and strong, a good match for the wily Frenchman. He was someone's soulmate, as was Dominic, as was Kova. Hell, maybe even Stella had someone out there.

His heart ached. All of them were at risk. Not just Scarlett. As their Elder, he would bear the responsibility for losing them. For facing their mates and murmuring empty apologies.

His eyes burned as he looked at Scarlett again. The thought of losing her was enough to drive him insane. How had Eduardo managed this?

He didn't.

Eduardo did not go into battle. He did not entwine himself in the lives of his court the way Julian did. He did not visit Shoshanna York's bedside or listen to Olivia's frustrations or lose sleep over Rhys or advise Sasha on modern living. And so he did not care, not deep down in his soul, for each of his good soldiers. He valued them as one might value an armory full of sharp weapons, but no one meant more to Eduardo than his mate.

Part of him wanted to break down and scream. Go home! Get out of here before it's too late.

But they were here because they wanted to be. Because people they loved were at stake, or there were wrongs to be made right. He swallowed, raked his hands through his hair, and joined the group. If he was worthy of their loyalty, then he owed them every ounce of ferocity he had.

Stella winced as she set aside a nearly-empty blood bag. Her eyes flared bright, and she stared at her hands as if she saw something there. "Oh, I see why you guys like it so much," she said, her voice almost a purr. "I've got this. Let's approach through the woods in the back. I know exactly where the wards begin. When they break, I'll give you a light show."

"Scarlett, you go with her," Julian said. His mate flashed a glare at him. "See if you can learn what she's doing, if it triggers your instincts somehow."

"After that?" Scarlett said archly.

"You can come in," he said. "Hang back if it seems advantageous. Don't tip our hand entirely if you can surprise her. If you walk in next to me, we have no further cards to play."

Her brow furrowed as if she wanted to argue, but she nodded. "Okay. That's fair." Her eyes met his, and he could see the shape of her lips as she started to whisper I…

Stella elbowed Scarlett and said, "Let's go. Try to keep up."

If he didn't know better, he'd have thought the witch was excited about the mission. Two vampires and Scarlett broke into a run, disappearing into the shadows.

He turned to face Dominic and said, "Here we go."

His enchanted blade hung at his side, a quiet reminder of Misha's support. Quickly, they slipped down the street and ducked behind an oversized pickup truck parked at a house a few lots down from Armina's.

A quiet voice tickled at his senses, and he looked over to see Dominic's lips moving, hands clasped together as if he was praying. His heart ached at the sight of it. A few moments later, Dom tucked a small silver medal back under his shirt, then fixed his intense gaze on the house down the street.

The last time they had gone into battle together, they were much younger, full of brash bravado with so little to lose. Back then, they hadn't been afraid to die. They practically laughed in the face of death, daring it to take them.

Now, they had so much to lose. If they refused to fight, their loved ones were lost. If they rose to the occasion, they risked their heads.

And if he was to claim he was worthy of his mate, then there was no choice at all.

A firm hand gripped his forearm. Dom pointed with his other hand and said, "Look."

Rising above the trees in the distance was a burst of white light, a little shimmering cloud of sunlight that faded as quickly as it had begun. And just barely audible, there were footsteps fluttering over dry ground.

"Let's go," Julian said.

Voices were already rising within the house as he and Dominic sprinted across the lawn. As they ran, fire raced along tight, curving paths in the grass. Like a fuse burning out quickly, the arcane marks were extinguished.

Burning red light swirled across the front of the luxurious house, leaving scorch marks in strange patterns. Inside, someone shouted, "Intruders!" The word had barely fallen back into silence when glass shattered at the back of the house.

Julian drew his blade and nicked his palm. Blood trickled along the blade and ignited the runes dancing along it. Dominic charged ahead of him and kicked down the front door in a satisfying crunch of splintering wood.

The house was much as it had been the last time they were here, with its ornate furniture and tidy space. But the air reeked of blood and magic. The hairs on his neck stood on end, almost dancing with the crackling of power in the area.

He smelled Armina Voss, that heavy perfume tangled with the death-and-decay odor of her power. Following the scent, he ran for the spacious white kitchen.

A heavyset female vampire with long black hair lunged out of a nearby doorway and reached for him. Her hand had barely swiped across his face when he sliced right up her belly with his blade. Glowing red-hot, the blade cut through her like a heated knife through butter.

With a wordless scream, the woman staggered back but recovered quickly. When she lunged again, he caught her long braid, slammed her face into the wall in a spray of blood, then twisted her head around backwards in a chorus of snapping bone. He left her groaning and pressed on.

As he rounded a corner, a fist cracked against his face. Lightning struck inside his skull, and he staggered back. His watering eyes wouldn't let him see, but he smelled Sasha. "Stand down, or I'll put you down," Julian bit out.

Sasha chuckled, but Julian spun him around and watched as Dominic rushed him from behind. His blue eyes went wide as Dom got a hold of him, arms flailing wildly. He spun to throw a vicious kick at Dominic, but as soon as he did, Julian slammed his fist into Sasha's spine.

The other man gasped, legs buckling, and Dominic said, "I've got him."

Julian pressed on, following that scent down the hall. Mixed with her scent now was Paris Rossignol, his brother, his friend, his Vessel.

He heard the creak of the floor and ducked just as Paris swung at him. A wickedly sharp blade passed through the air overhead. Julian kicked at Paris's thigh, but the other man was fast. Almost too fast.

They fought in a vicious flurry, blades clanging and sparks flying. When Paris's blade found purchase and scraped his ribs, Julian staggered. Biting cold radiated from the wound, and his left leg began to go numb.

"Paris, stop this," Julian said sharply.

Bloody marks were carved around his throat like a collar, with more over the backs of his hands. And those icy blue eyes were a distant memory, replaced by black voids peering back at him. Was he lost for good?

The other man kicked him in the chest, sending him flying backward through the doorway and into a huge parlor. The dark smell of Night Weaver magic was overpowering here. As Julian clambered to his feet, he whipped his head around to see Lux and Armina in the far corner of the room.

The blonde witch was leaning heavily on a stool, eyes closed as her hands worked through the air. Bandages covered her left shoulder, and her right hand seemed to do most of the work of casting.

Paris grabbed Julian by the throat, lifted him easily, and slammed him down into the tile floor. His head cracked against the floor, and stars ignited in his vision. Paris's blade drove down and into his thigh, and Julian bellowed as the pain overwhelmed him.

"Leave him alive," Armina called.

The blade tore free, and Paris hauled him up. Julian slammed the hilt of his blade into Paris's temple, sending him staggering.

"Let him go," Lux said, her voice echoing.

At that, Paris shoved him aside. There was a sound of cracking tile, and the now-familiar shadow tendrils ripped through the floor and around Julian. As they entangled him, he looked back to see Dominic running through the door. A jagged vine of black pierced his chest, then yanked him to the floor in a spray of blood.

"Stand clear," Lux said, her voice shaky. "That's quite enough."

He could no longer hear Stella and Kova outside, but he had to pray they would deal with the others, would keep Scarlett safe. Misha was their last hope.

Julian struggled against the sharp tethers, but they branched and twisted and pierced, weaving between his ribs and slithering along his veins. He shuddered and fell to his knees.

"Paris, listen to me," he said, ignoring the taste of blood on the back of his tongue. "I came here for you. And I'm not leaving without you."

He'd never been able to tell the difference between their bonds; it didn't feel as if things had changed since becoming an Elder. Paris was part of him, connected close to his heart. And whatever Lux and Armina had done to him, it was still there.

His Vessel turned to him, eyes blank. Julian yanked on that bond, holding his gaze as he said, "Help me. Take her down. Let's walk out of here together."

"Nice try," Lux said.

"Misha needs you," Julian said. "And I need you. Follow where I lead, Paris. I am your Elder." With every bit of hope he had, he pulled on that shredded, infected thread, poisoned as it was by Armina's magic.

One of the witches let out a mocking laugh. Paris's head tilted. Then he raised his blade, glaring down at Julian. He braced himself, but as Paris swung, the faintest glint of blue flickered in his eye.

He moved so fast it was nearly impossible to follow. One moment, Paris was swinging that blade down at Julian's face, and the next, the blade was protruding from Lux's chest. Paris roared in pain as his markings flared red-hot, but the witch was already on her back, crying out in agony. He growled wordlessly and crossed the room, then neatly sliced her throat with his blade before falling back to convulse violently.

Armina rose from her seat, eyes wide in shock. The shadowy trap holding Julian loosened, and he lurched to his feet. "This is my house," she roared, the entire room trembling.

Jagged threads pierced him anew and yanked him down to his knees, winding around his wrists and ankles, holding him right where she wanted. As she strode toward him, the room darkened. Shadows roiled in the corners, pooling on the ceiling like smoke.

The witch drifted toward him, her dark hair lifting around her face in an unseen wind. A strange crackle still hung in the air, as if something was waiting. Her dark eyes landed on him with the force of a guillotine's blade.

He held her gaze. Her cool hand cupped his chin and tilted his face up. "You didn't bring her," she said, her voice trembling.

"No," he lied. Her head tilted, and one of those awful barbed tendrils twisted inside him. He arched, but lifted his head again to hold her gaze. "Please let me speak."

"What will you do? Beg for your life? Please do."

Buy time, he thought.

"No," he said."I want to?—"

Her head tilted, and she made a twisting gesture with one hand. Something sprouted inside his belly, pressing against his ribs. The pain was indescribable, and he lost himself in it. But there was no release, because when he closed his eyes, he saw Scarlett dying anew.

She lay in a sickbed convulsing and vomiting blood. In a flash, she walked across a street and into the path of a bus. Her skin split open over swelling veins. She died a thousand deaths before his eyes, and still it didn't relent.

When he became aware of himself again, he saw a pool of blood on the tiled floor. His throat felt scraped raw, and he dimly realized he must have been screaming. Still, he lifted his gaze and said, "I came to apologize to you."

Her dark brows furrowed. "I don't want to hear it."

"I'm sorry for the pain I caused you. I know what it is to lose the person you love, and to lose the future you thought you had. I know what it is to hold onto memories that fade with each passing year," he said. Her jaw ticked, and pain burst through his chest. Even with the sickening pain tearing through him, he held her gaze.

"Stop it," she said in a shaking voice.

"And I'm sorry for causing you that sort of pain," he said. "I mean it. No one should have to feel that."

There was a strange flicker to her expression, as if his words had sunk in."You should have thought of that before you took him."

"Please let these people go. There are innocent people here who weren't even born when Tobias died. They were?—"

Pain ripped through him again, and he could only double over and retch silently.

"Never say his name again," Armina said. "I think I'll keep them. And I think I'll keep you, too, this time. When you've learned to behave, you can go and kill her the same way you killed him. Nice and slow."

"Armina, please," he said. Right at the edge of his hearing, he heard her.

I'm coming in. Just hold on.

"I tried to do the right thing. I was protecting people. I told him that it was foolish to risk himself over the bloody Auberon. How few Eduardo took back then, especially compared to the Rubrum or the Vespillo back in the day," she said, almost talking to herself. "We lost more hunters in that fucking war than your court ever killed. But he was a passionate man. Believed he was on a mission from God. You couldn't help but love him. I wanted to believe in what he saw."

"I'm sorry," he said again, and he was surprised at how much he meant it. "If you have to take me, then do it. But let the rest of them go."

"Let my people go," she mocked. "You have no power to ask for me for anything."

Quiet steps shuffled in the hallway, and he raised his voice. "What more can I offer you? What else do you want from me?"

Thick, unnatural darkness burst through the room like smoke. Biting cold and searing heat swirled around him, and he shuddered as the tendrils tightened around him. Through the smoke, barely visible, those amber eyes bore into him.

Then the sweetest smell washed over him. Scarlett, kneeling on the ground with her hands on his face. "Let him go," she said, her voice echoing in his skull. Searing heat burst from her hands, and a thousand little tendrils snapped like broken rubber bands against his skin.

"What are you…" Armina marveled. "Scarlett?" Light flared in her eyes, and she took a step back. "What happened to you?"

"I loved you like a mother," Scarlett said, holding Julian's arm as he stood. "And you were ready to kill me to punish him."

The witch shook her head. "You don't understand what he is."

"He's a flawed man. I'm a flawed woman," she said. "And no matter what you did to him, he didn't start killing innocent people to make himself feel better. You turned yourself into a monster."

Armina's expression twisted into a scowl, and she raised her hand, fingers already moving. Scarlett's eyes followed, and her hand flew up. Light burst from her fingers, and Armina screamed in surprise as the sparks tangled around her arm.

"What did you do?" she marveled.

"The spirit you bound to me wasn't happy about being forced to kill me over and over," Scarlett said. "She gave me something. She gave me what you stole from Brigitte and Rebekkah and Sarah and all the others."

Armina recoiled, and Julian felt like he'd been punched in the gut. How did she know their names?

Scarlett strode toward her, hand still extended. "What would your Tobias think if he saw what you have become? If he saw you murdering innocent people? Twisting hunters to your will? Keeping vampires prisoner and torturing them? Would he still love you?"

The room trembled beneath them, and Armina surged to her feet. Deafening thunder cracked as the room went dark. "You speak of things you don't understand," she bellowed. Throwing both hands out, a shockwave of power burst through the room, throwing Scarlett back into Julian.

He caught her around the waist, planting his feet to stay standing.

"You cocky little bitch," Armina said with a laugh. "You get a spark of power that you don't know how to use, and you think you can best me?"

Scarlett's eyes cut to the left, and she smiled. "No, I don't." Lightning fast, she hurled a knife at Armina.

As the witch dodged the blade, a quiet voice whispered, "Disintegrate."

The tile floor erupted in fault lines around them, and Armina fell back with a terrible scream. Barbed tendrils of shadow surged up from the cracks, wrapping around the witch as she cried out.

Walking neatly over the cracks came Stella, her fingers dripping with blood. "I've got it," she said.

But Julian closed on them, taking up his blade. "Let me. I'll make it quick," he said. Swallowing his fury, he bent over the witch and sliced her throat. As the blood surged over his blade, the room shook violently.

"The curse," Stella said. "Motherfucker. I told you to let me handle it!"

The younger witch shot him a glare and grabbed the witch. "Get out!" And with trembling hands, she yanked Armina's head around. Cracking bone rang out, and that final sound seemed to echo forever.

Scarlett let out a banshee wail, and he grabbed her around the waist. A sound like a massive gong rang out, impossibly loud and deep, rattling down to his bones, down into the bowels of the earth. His belly threatened to turn out, and all he could do was huddle in a ball as the sheer force of it blew over them.

You have to go, a cold voice told him.

Looking back, he saw Stella's body hovering in the air, strange tendrils of black and white arcing all around her. Julian gritted his teeth, hauled Paris to his feet, and staggered toward the door.Misha was limping down the hall with Rhys hanging over his shoulder.

"The others are clear," Misha said. "Couldn't find Kristina, though."

"Cottage," Paris murmured as they bolted through the broken front door. They ran across the lawn, then went flying in a heap as a shockwave hit them.

The world went eerily silent, and then a wave of pure void darkness burst from the house. As his head swam, Julian could have sworn he saw massive spiderwebs stretching across the sky, lightning bolts dancing along those silken filaments.

Darkness swept over him, so complete and consuming that it overwhelmed his senses. When it passed, he stared blankly at the sky, his body aching and exhausted. Blue eyes peered down at him as Rhys offered a hand. "You okay?" Rhys asked.

Julian groaned as the other man pulled him upright. He felt like a vampire-shaped piece of Swiss cheese. "I don't know. Am I alive?"

"You are, and I am an expert," Rhys said cheerfully. He looked like he'd been hit by a bus, run over by a full cycle of Atlanta rush hour traffic, then left to heal in a landfill. And somehow, the bastard was still smiling.

"And you're alive," Julian said dimly.

"I am," Rhys agreed. "Sorry for the unexpected absence. Seems you lot made it without me for a few days."

Julian rose and threw his arms around the other man, squeezing him tightly. The nurse sank against him, embracing him with shaking arms. "I'm so sorry," Julian murmured. "We looked. We were here before. How did we miss you?"

"Before today?" Rhys asked, pulling away and looking up at him quizzically. Julian nodded. "Oh. Well, I was elsewhere. Not quite sure where. Bit of a blur. It's not your fault, Julian."

Misha was crouched over Paris, stroking his face gently. "Hey, wake up," he murmured. "You've taken this ability to sleep way too seriously."

Paris's eyes opened, and his hand drifted up to the marks on his neck. "Get this off."

Misha nodded and kissed his brow. "I'll take care of it. I promise. The only person bossing you around is going to be me."

As they rose, his heart sank. The house lay in shambles, jagged pieces of frame jutting up from broken glass and ash. It was as if much of it had been vaporized. Etched deep into the ground were black scorch-marks as thick as his arm. Armina's spells, laid deep into the earth. Jagged lines erupted from them like electrical burns.

Limping on what had to be a shattered knee, Sasha rose and called, "Kristina! Kristina!"

Kova groaned and caught his arm. "Cottage. That's where Danielle is." He pointed to the edge of the property, where a small guest cottage remained untouched by the magic. "They're fine. I'll show you."

"We should go," Misha said roughly.

"I told her we wouldn't leave her," Julian said. Gingerly, he stepped up to the house and into the space where he would have estimated the parlor to be. A skeletal figure remained there, a distinct signet ring on its right hand. His heart went cold as he knelt and took the ring from her finger. It was strangely unmarred, not so much as a fleck of ash upon it.

"Stella?" he said aloud. His voice sounded hollow and dry.

"There's no way she lived through that," Dominic said quietly from behind him.

He glanced at Dominic. "She took the risk of whatever curse Armina had cooked up."

"Forgive me if I don't offer her a posthumous medal of honor," Dom said drily. "Are you all right?"

"No, but I'll live," Julian said."Round the others up."

Scarlett sat in the middle of the yard, staring at the crumbling remains. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her fingers still glowed with magic as she tried in vain to stop the tears. He sat next to her and put his arm around her.

She didn't speak, just turned and buried her face in his chest and wept. He held her tight, and the others gave them a wide berth. In the quiet, Dominic gave orders, and he watched as Kova carefully carried Kristina out of the cottage, her head lolling far too loosely.

Misha's quiet voice came through Scarlett's cries, telling Safira that it was over, they were heading home soon.

And still she wept, hot tears soaking through his shirt. His eyes stung as he kissed the top of her head and held her tightly. Her world had begun to crumble long before today. But his unmatched triumph at watching Armina fall was her utter tragedy. If she'd clung to any hope for redemption, it was gone.

But they were here. They had survived. The cycle was broken, and they were together. Tears trickled over his cheeks, and he wished he could scream it out, let out the poison like trapped smoke. Nearly two hundred years of endless grief and despair.

And it was finally over.

Her hand snaked around his waist, and he realized that she was leaning against his shoulder, no longer sobbing violently. He reached up and stroked her hair. "Are you okay?"

"Not quite. But I will be," she murmured. "Let's go home."

He gently turned up her chin, meeting her teary eyes. "And where is home?"

"Where you are," she said.

He brushed a kiss across her lips. "Good answer."