And he gave a jerk of his head.
At that small movement, guards sprang forward. They grabbed Celeste and one sliced her throat, just cut her, from ear to ear, with no hesitation at all.
Josephine screamed, her shock and fear echoing around them.
And Malik understood why the guards had just stood so still. They were working for Finlay. The whole place was a trap. A set-up, for Josephine. For us both.
She lunged for her sister, and when she did, when she made the mistake of turning her back on Finlay—
He threw a bolt of light toward her vulnerable back.
Malik stepped forward in the same instant. Must protect. “I’m not a fucking shadow any longer.”
The bolt of light hit him, slamming into his chest—and igniting him.
Chapter Twenty
Malik was burning.
Josephine whirled around, horror filling her as she saw Malik’s body hit the ground. The flames—white, so bright, a full-blooded Fey’s magical flames—consumed him. She threw herself on him, hitting the flames, ignoring the burn in her body. She couldn’t control Fey fire. Never had been able to do it. And since she was a vamp, too much fire—
Meant death.
“How sweet.” Finlay’s voice rang out. “You’re sacrificing yourself to save him. Although, from the looks of him, there isn’t going to be much left to save.”
The flames died away. And Malik’s body…God, her beautiful Malik…
Her shaking fingers touched his cheek. I love you.
This wasn’t his end. She wouldn’t let it be. She yanked her hand to her mouth, tore open her wrist with her teeth, then Josephine shoved her bleeding wrist over—
“None of that.” Finlay yanked Josephine to her feet. “It’s more fun if you just slowly let him die. Trust me, an angel’s death is a thing of beauty.” He spun her around to face him. “I’ve seen it happen a time or twenty. After all, how do you think I got enough power back to face you? Or to control them?” He jerked his head toward the guards who just watched—their expressions were completely slack.
Compulsion? They looked just like humans under a vampire’s control.
“Your sister is dying,” Finlay whispered.
Her gaze flew to Celeste. Celeste was on the ground, her hands at her throat—her fingers covered in blood. Terror blazed in her eyes.
Blood dripped down Josephine’s inner wrist.
Finlay yanked her wrist up to his mouth. He sucked hard at the wound. “As delicious as I remember…”
What?
“You were always too good at heart. Ten years ago, you should have killed my guards when you tried to take my head. But you didn’t. You walked away. They stayed. I’d been fucking one of them—Katrina, Katherine—ah, who the hell cares what her name was? I think she was in love with me, and she became quite frantic when she saw that my head was mostly separated from my body.”
A few fucking tendrils. That had been the only parts left. She’d drained him of magic. His body had been still. His heart hadn’t beat. But…
“This time,” Josephine promised, “it will be totally separated.”
He laughed. “Do you remember how my guards shot you? They riddled your body with bullets. Your blood soaked the floor. Katherine—hey, let’s just call her Kat since I don’t remember the bitch’s real name—she was desperate and she shoved your blood in my mouth.” He winked and licked her wrist. “Did the trick. Brought me back from death. Because you’ve got some really fucking powerful blood in your family. Blood that is strong enough to bring back a dead Fey King.” His gaze cut to a slumped Celeste. “And, in your sister’s case, even strong enough to give a dying angel a second shot at life. Got to confess, your sis did surprise me back then. She’s a sneaky one.” He laughed. “I think I surprised her this time, though, don’t you?”
She thought he was a fucking bastard. “My blood brought you back.” Why the hell hadn’t the tally mark come back on her wrist then?
“I knew I couldn’t let you or Luke find me. Not while I was weak.”
She understood. “You stayed in the shadows,” Josephine snarled at him. “That’s why you didn’t show up on Luke’s radar. He thought you were dead. I thought you were dead because you were of no more substance than a shadow! You were constantly slipping through the Veil!”
Dammit! He’d been bouncing back and forth through the Veil. That was how he’d kept memories. He hadn’t remained in the Fey realm long enough to forget—and he hadn’t stayed in the mortal realm long enough for Luke to pick up on his presence.
“I had to buy time until I could be strong enough to challenge you for the crown.” Another swipe of his tongue over her inner wrist. “Guess what? I’m strong enough now. An angel has enormous power. The feathers I took over the last ten years, they made me so incredibly powerful. I think those damn feathers even helped me to maintain my memories when I slipped through the Veil.”
She filed that tidbit away for later. Most outside magic didn’t work in the Fey realm. Maybe some angel magic was exempt from that rule. Not like many angels ever crossed the Veil.
Later, she would consider all of the ramifications of angel magic. Right then, she had Finlay exactly where she wanted him.
Biting close.
His jaw hardened. “You chose the wrong champion.”
“No, I didn’t. I’m my own champion. I fucking choose me.” She surged up and sliced his neck with her fangs, tearing as hard and deep as she could.
A burst of white Fey fire hit her in the chest. Hit her before she could take his head. She flew back through the air and collided with two of the guards. Two of the assholes on the wrong side. When they tried to attack her, she grabbed their necks and rammed their heads together. The hit knocked them both out.
“You’re not a real Fey!” Finlay bellowed. “Yield to me, or I will burn you alive. You can’t handle the fire! I’ll turn you to ash!”
She laughed as she rose. “Do I look scared?” She shook her wrist. Hurt like a bitch because he’d sucked so hard.
“Josephine the Cold,” he shouted. “That should be your name! Your lover lies dead at my feet, and you don’t even care. You don’t slow down your battle at all. You don’t love anyone and no one will ever truly love—”
She lifted her index finger. “First up, Malik isn’t dead.”
Finlay immediately looked down at Malik’s body.
Malik wasn’t moving. He lay face down, his arms under his body.
“I was buying time,” Josephine explained. “I knew he’d need a little while to recover—”
“You didn’t give him any blood!” Finlay yelled. “I stopped you—”
“No, I didn’t give him blood. But he didn’t need the blood because Malik takes energy just from touching, and before you hit him with the fire, we were touching plenty.” Now she gave him a smug smile. “You see, you were wrong when you said Malik’s power doesn’t work here. He’s fallen. The powers he had in the mortal world after he lost his angel wings? He just absorbed those from others after his change. So, of course, those stayed behind the Veil. But all he had to do was touch someone new over here—and, presto, my man got new powers.”
Finlay grabbed Malik’s shoulder and flipped him over—
“Just needed you to get close enough,” Malik snarled, and then his fangs sank into Finlay’s throat. Fangs that he’d gotten from being near Josephine.
Finlay howled and tried to shove Malik off him but—Malik just rose. He held the Fey tighter. And thin, shimmering wings appeared at Malik’s back.
He had Fey wings?
Malik tore his mouth from Finlay’s throat. His hands pressed to the Fey’s chest. “I watched you kill her before. It ripped the heart from my chest.”
Josephine surged closer to him. She picked up a sword from one of the unconscious guards. Not like the guy could use it then.
“It’s only fair,” Malik continued in his dark, rumbling voice, “that I take the heart from your chest this time.”
/>
And he did. He plunged his hands right into Finlay’s chest. The Fey bellowed, and white fire poured from his fingertips. The fire swept over Malik, burning him again—
“Duck, Malik!” Josephine yelled.
He did.
He even tucked his wings low for her.
She sliced with the sword until there was a soft little…thud.
Her breath heaved in and out. Her heart pounded in a bruising rhythm. And a Fey King’s head was at her feet. “Told you,” she said as she stared at what was left of Finlay. His body toppled to land next to the head. “This time, totally removed.”
Malik hauled her into his arms. He kissed her frantically, passionately, and she wanted to kiss him back the same way, she wanted to get lost in him but—
But they were surrounded by enemies.
And her sister was dying. Already dead?
She shoved against his arms. “Keep the others away!” Josephine yelled at Malik. She knew she could count on him.
Always.
Celeste lay slumped on the ground, blood pouring from her neck. She looked so lost. So…
Her blood-covered fingers flew out to grab Josephine’s hand. Celeste tried to speak, but couldn’t.
Because most of her throat is gone.
But Josephine smiled at her. “It’s okay. This kind of injury won’t kill a vampire.” Total lie. Too much blood loss would always kill a vamp. “We just need to jump start your healing. Take my blood.” She put her wrist at her sister’s mouth. “It’s already open for you.”.
Tears leaked from Celeste’s eyes.
“Take my blood,” Josephine urged her. “Because I’m not in the mood to watch my sister die today.”
Celeste’s lashes fluttered.
Too weak.
“Screw this,” Josephine said. She shoved her wrist hard to Celeste’s mouth.
“Stay the fuck back!” Malik roared. “If one of you takes a step toward my queen, I will incinerate you.”
Her head whipped up. Sure enough, white flames were surrounding his fingers. He’d taken power from Finlay before the Fey’s life ended.
Malik’s shimmering wings stretched behind him, fury darkened his face, and those flames around his fingertips—well, the white fire made his eyes look even brighter. “I love you,” she told him. Josephine hoped he knew how very much she meant those words.
He threw her a smile, and he didn’t let the flames so much as flicker.
And all the Fey around them—they turned to face Josephine.
“Don’t push me!” Malik shouted. “She is the only thing that matters in my world! You take a step toward her, and I end you! One by fucking one!”
Her foul-talking fallen. Where and when had had an angel gotten to love the f-bomb so much? He must have been hanging out in the wrong places—or maybe watching the wrong woman for too long.
Celeste’s mouth pressed harder to Josephine’s wrist. And her throat—well, I think it may look less like a horror show. Maybe.
The Fey were all staring at Josephine. She glared back at them.
They…
Took to their knees. Lowered their heads in submission.
They acknowledged her as queen.
Hell, yes, yes!
Malik stalked toward her. He put his body between her and the Fey. “Do I need to kill them?”
Finlay was dead. Just to make sure, though, she would be incinerating his body. He had taken her blood right before she’d taken his head. Was her blood powerful enough to bring him back from even that? “Ahem…Malik, burn Finlay to ash, would you?” She wasn’t even going to try taking any left-over power from the dead ex-king. She just wanted him gone.
Malik’s flames instantly covered Finlay. Quite a bonfire.
“And the others?” Malik asked simply. “Do they die?”
There were a few whimpers.
“No.” She considered it. “Not yet, anyway.” If there were any other guards who weren’t loyal to her, then she’d deal with them. If Finlay truly had been strong enough to use compulsion on the Fey, that compulsion should end with his death.
Celeste kept drinking. Her wound kept closing.
Malik maintained his protective pose before her and Celeste…in spite of everything, Josephine just had to laugh. “Totally unfair.”
Malik glanced down at her.
“You have Fey wings.”
Her heart seemed to be slowing down. Why was her heart slowing down?
She looked at Celeste. Realized…her sister was gripping her wrist now. Holding her far too tightly. Taking…far too much.
Finlay drank, too—I didn’t even realize how much he took from me. Now Celeste…how much did I give Celeste? It seemed as if she’d only been giving her sister blood for a few moments but time…time worked differently in the Fey realm.
Minutes were really hours.
Hours…days…
Everything was fluid. Hadn’t Celeste told her that?
“S-stop…” Josephine whispered.
Celeste didn’t.
“Malik…” He’d save her. He always did. And she saved him.
She slumped down as the world seemed to fade away.
***
“Rip the fucking Veil open!” Merius shouted.
Luke lifted a brow as he studied the angel-turned-vamp. “Is it me, or are you especially testy right now?”
Merius lunged toward him, practically foaming at the mouth.
Luckily for Merius, the werewolf—Dorrin—yanked him back before he could actually touch Luke. Touching would have meant retribution.
“I think he’s especially testy,” an amused female voice called out. Throaty, sensual, just a bit wicked.
Ah, Luke knew that voice. He turned, a wide smile on his face. The wicked witch had finally arrived. “Valerie!” He opened his arms to her.
But a large, glaring male stepped into his path.
“I wasn’t trying to hug you, mate,” Luke snapped at him.
The fellow smiled. A chilling sight. “I’m her mate. And you won’t be hugging her at all.” The guy was absolutely massive and smelled distinctively wild. Luke knew who he was, of course.
The king of the shifters.
Luke slanted a fast glance toward his brother.
Leo nodded. “Yep, turns out, they were a package deal.”
Luke had rather expected nothing less. And if the Veil fell and hell came through, well, he could use the shifter king in the battle. “Where’s the Medusa?”
Valerie waved her hand. A thick cloud of smoke appeared, and from within that cloud, Luke heard the distinct hiss of snakes.
Then a snake leapt right out of the smoke and came—with fangs at the ready—for Luke.
He caught the snake around the neck in mid-air. “Play nice or don’t play at all.”
The smoke vanished. So did the snake. Or rather, it just reappeared as a tattoo on the arm of Stefan Medusa. The man took up a position to Valerie’s right. Not surprising. He’d always followed her far too closely. Probably because she was the closest thing to a mother that he had.
“We aren’t here to play,” Valerie announced. She looked down at her nails, as if she was utterly and completely bored with the whole situation. “I don’t like Vegas. It’s too predictable.”
“Uh…are that dude’s tattoos moving?” Dorrin demanded.
Valerie’s delicate nostrils flared. “I smell…a curse.” Her head cocked. Her eyes locked on Dorrin. “We should talk.”
The shifter king took her hand. “He’s one of mine.”
“I know, darling,” she purred right back. “That’s why I was going to help him. Otherwise, well, I would let Stefan’s snakes have fun.”
The snakes hissed.
The shifter king—Griffin Bastien—brought Valerie’s hand to his mouth and pressed a tender kiss to her fingers.
“We are so screwed,” Dorrin muttered.
Luke was starting to think the same thing. Judging by Leo’s expression, his broth
er had reached the same conclusion.
“Bring down the Veil!” Merius shouted, back to his wild screams. He’d given them a period of relative calm for about…oh, three minutes. Maybe less.
Valerie tapped her foot. “How long has the vamp been like that?”
“About two hours.” It was Leo who replied. “He’s…he was an angel. He was turned when—”
“OhmyGosh…do I look clueless?” Valerie straightened her already straight shoulders.
The shifter king’s lips twitched a bit.
“Do I look clueless?” she repeated, her voice rising, “Or do I look like the ever powerful, all-knowing, utterly amazing Valerie Storm? Leader of the witches? Adored wife of the shifter king—”
“Ever-so-adored,” the king cut in with a tender smile.
Love-sick fool.
“He’s as crazy as she is,” Leo muttered.
At that, the shifter king’s gaze immediately cut to Leo. And the temperature in the room…heated.
The snakes hissed. “Bad mistake,” Stefan Medusa declared. The Medusa was tall, muscled, and sporting a go-to-hell grin. “Now she won’t be a helper, and neither will he.”
Valerie nodded. “We’re done here.” She lifted her hand, looking for all the world as if she was about to snap her fingers and go poof—and Luke knew that was precisely what she was about to do, dammit.
“Wait!” Luke yelled. He was sweating.
“Stop!” Leo thundered at the same moment. He was sweating more.
Valerie smiled. “You want to deal? With moi?”
Grimly, they both nodded.
“Tear down the Veil!” Merius bellowed. He broke free of Dorrin’s hold, and he ran for the giant mirror that Luke had brought into the suite. Merius pounded his fists against it, again and again. His blood covered the glass.
“Well, that’s not going to work,” Stefan drawled as his tattoos seemed to quiver. “Don’t believe he’s Fey.”
“No.” Valerie shook her head. “But if it amuses him, who are we to interrupt his play time?”
“Insanity,” Leo blasted. “That’s all this is! Thinking for one moment that Valerie would do anything to help Josephine—”
Valerie snapped her fingers, but she didn’t go poof.
Everyone froze.