Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 113848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Ren swooped down to a felled corpse, coating her blade in brown blood. Then she took aim. Her tunnel of focus muted everything beyond her target: Dorada’s beating heart.
She threw. End over end. Blade flying . . .
The dagger sank into the sorceress’s chest. Bull’s-eye.
With a yell of fury, Dorada trained her vicious gaze on Ren. She plucked the blade free and tossed it aside with irritation. “A knife? Really?” Yet then she frowned down at the wound, at the brown mixed with crimson. She raised her glowing hand, but her magic sputtered. A look of disbelief crossed her face. “What have you wrought, mortal?”
“You’ve got seconds of consciousness left before my blade’s spell hits you, and I suspect you’ll become a Wendigo in less than three days.”
Dorada gasped, then disappeared in a fall of gold dust. Without the sorceress to direct them, the remaining Wendigos howled and snapped at each other.
Freed from Dorada’s hold, Lothaire sliced through the baffled creatures, alongside Munro and the two vampires. Decapitated bodies writhed on the floor as the last one fell.
Then . . . quiet.
Ren hurried to retrieve her weapon. She carefully wiped the blade off on a curtain—apologies, Dacian villa—then holstered it. “Munro?”
Halfway across the room, he stood with his back to her, his shoulders rising and falling with his heaving breaths. He finally turned, revealing a slash across the arm of his jacket. Blood welled beneath the fabric.
Her heart stuttered. “No, no, no!”
His brows drew together, as if with contrition. “I never expected to abandon you here in this time. But the vampires will have to put me down. They’ll take you to Glenrial. My brother and Chloe will help you.” Munro stumbled toward her, only to collapse to his knees.
“No!” She ran for him, winding around the bodies. “We can be together if you fight!”
A flash of movement from the floor; pain pierced her leg. A headless Wendigo had sunk its claws into her calf.
“Doamne!” She struck with her knife, severing its fingers. But the claws remained embedded, like a dead spider envenoming her.
Roaring her name, Munro dove to pry them from her leg, ripping the skirt of her dress away.
Lothaire kicked the rest of the Wendigos far from Ren. “Foul fucking creatures.” He murmured something to Stelian in Dacian, and the male disappeared.
Heat coursed from her injury like acid through her veins. “Munro . . . I got nicked too.”
He took her in his arms, cradling her against him. “Ah, gods, Kereny.”
Weakness gripped her. Black spots crept around the edges of her vision. She and Munro had clashed over a potential eternal union that had never been in the cards for either of them.
Unfathomable sorrow filled his flickering eyes as he said, “Looks like we’ll be together. Just no’ how we pictured it. I’m so sorry, lass.”
“You’ll find me, won’t you?” she asked, tears falling.
“A century of time could no’ stop me from reaching you before. Death will no’ either.”
“The good news,” Lothaire began grandly, “is that I have much experience with Wendigos. I can neutralize the venom in both of you.”
“T-truly?” Ren said, her voice sounding faint.
Munro grated, “What’s the bloody bad news?”
“In moments, the blade huntress alone will perish.”
FIFTY-FIVE
Control the beast. Doona kill Lothaire! “What are you talking about?” Munro demanded.
Stelian reappeared in the room with Ellie and Balery.
The fey woman rushed forward to Kereny. She used a gloved hand to rub what smelled like common salt on her leg.
Lothaire told him, “I discovered—from drinking a very learned wizard—that salt counteracts Wendigo venom. You’ll recover completely and your mate won’t resurrect as a Wendigo. So you won’t have to euthanize her.”
“Then why will she godsdamn perish?” The fey saw to Munro’s arm next. His strength rebounded at once.
“That Wendigo injected a kill shot from its claws. By now, its venom has melted her mortal organs.” With a sigh, Lothaire added, “There are bound to be hiccups at a soft opening.”
Hiccups? Canna kill him!
“This was what you feared all along,” Kereny said, anguish in her gaze. “You only wanted to protect me.”
He swiped his arm over his eyes. “We can attempt to turn you if the venom is neutralized. Kereny . . . I know this is no’ what you wanted—but I’m begging you to let us try.”
“I’ll do it.” In a wry whisper, she said, “Death isn’t as glorious as one might have thought.”
Munro pleaded to the others, “Give her your blood. Any of you! All of you!”
Balery said, “Mine is poisonous, so I’m out.”
Munro turned to Kristoff. “You turn one in three.”
“Males. Female vampires cannot be made.”
Lothaire added, “Not without that ring you just kissed away.”
Munro’s beast was in a frenzy to rise and protect its mate. No, stay thinking! Stay rational.
Kereny softly said, “Munro, you need to bite me. It must be you.”
“I was no’ able to turn you in Quondam. Nor any of the humans. Lass, I bit you with everything in me! Over and over. I tried so hard, but the fire never took hold.”