I felt it.
Heat rippled down my arm and white light filled the corners of my eyes. “You should run.”
The Warden didn’t listen.
White fire erupted from my arm and exploded from my hand, shooting out in a spitting flame as my fingers curled around the heated handle already forming against my palm. The weight of the sword was heavy, inherently familiar even though I’d called upon it only once before. Fire flared from the razor-sharp edges as the very air crackled and hissed.
His wings unfurled as I lifted the sword high. Flames arced as I swung it down, catching the Warden in the shoulder. A Warden’s skin was almost impenetrable. Almost. The sword cleaved into him like a hot knife sliding through butter, burning away skin and blood before it could even spill into the air, carving him in half as the righteous fire rippled through him, consuming every inch of the Warden before he could even scream.
Within seconds, nothing was left of the Warden but a pile of ashes, lit by the spitting, burning sword. Only the half-melted mask remained.
The grace recoiled and the sword collapsed into itself, becoming wisps of smoke and a fine dusting of golden light that evaporated in the wind.
A thin stream of blood trickled from my nose.
Slowly, I crouched and picked up the ruined mask. The moment my fingers touched it, the plastic fell apart, joining the dust on the ground.
“Whoops,” I whispered, and straightened.
Breathing heavily, I shuddered and stepped back. Blood... It was running down my left arm, dripping from the tips of my fingers, smacking onto the sidewalk.
This was bad, so bad.
I needed to get to Thierry, stat. This mess needed to be cleaned up before it was too late. That was the priority, more important than trying to figure out why a Warden had tried to kill me again.
Spinning around, I took off, and I ran—ran faster than I had ever run before, and I didn’t slow down, even though every step caused the pounding in my head to feel like a drummer had taken up residency inside my skull. I didn’t slow down and give in to the darkness chasing me. If I passed out and didn’t get to Thierry, and I kept bleeding, they’d come.
Especially if what killed Wayne was still nearby. They’d come in droves.
I reached the edge of the wall surrounding my house, hung a right—
I slammed into something warm and hard—something that smelled like...winter mint.
Zayne.
I pinwheeled backward, losing my balance.
“What the Hell?” Zayne exclaimed, catching my arm—the wounded arm. I sucked in a sharp cry, swallowing it as the pain flared hotly. “Trinity?”
He pulled me forward so fast there was no stopping me. I bounced off his chest and then I didn’t make it very far. He caught my other arm, steadying me. Winter mint crowded out the metallic scent of my own blood. My wild gaze landed on his face, but it was too dark back here to see him.
“Holy crap,” I whispered, feeling nauseous. “You’re like a wall—a warm, hard wall.”
“A warm, hard wall? Wait.” Concern filled his voice as his hands shifted on me. “You’re bleeding. Hell. You’re bleeding bad.”
I was vaguely aware of his touch gentling as my heartbeat thrummed. “Kind of.”
“Kind of? What happened to you?” Zayne kept ahold of one of my arms, anger joining the concern, sharpening his tone as he spoke. “Who did this to you?”
I started to answer, but stopped myself. “I...I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“No.” I swallowed down the rise of bile. God, I was going to puke. Or pass out. Maybe both. “I need to... I need to see Thierry.”
“I think you need a doctor.” A hand touched my cheek, and there was the weird jolt again—the sense of acute awareness. I jerked back at the contact. “Sorry,” came the gruff reply. “It’s okay. Everything is okay.”
I wasn’t sure about that.
“Nicolai,” he called out, and my stomach sank. He wasn’t alone. Great. How were we going to explain any of this to them? “We have a problem.”
“Not a problem,” I murmured, aware of the DC clan leader joining us.
“What the Hell happened?” Nicolai demanded.
“I had an accident,” I said.
“With a chain saw?” Zayne asked. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
“I’m fine.” I leaned away from his touch. My legs...felt weird. “I just need to get to the house. Matthew is... He can help me.”
“Trinity—”
“I need to see...” The world wobbled a little. “Whoa.”
“Whoa what?” The hand was back on my cheek, fingers spreading and sliding down the side of my neck, through my hair. Despite the fact I felt like I might vomit, I shivered in response of the slow glide of his skin over mine. “Your head is bleeding, too.”
It was? I shouldn’t be surprised. The Warden did try to smash my skull in. “I just need to...”
“I don’t think she’s doing well,” Nicolai said, voice urgent.
Zayne stepped into me, and the warmth of his body was luring. The weird feeling in my legs increased, and whatever light I could see blinked out. I thought he shouted my name.
The next thing I knew I wasn’t on my feet anymore. I was... I was being carried. My cheek was resting against a chest—against Zayne’s chest.
Oh, what the Hell?
“Put me down,” I said, trying to lift my head, but it felt funny. Like it weighed a ton.
“Oh, I’m not putting you down.” His steps were long and quick. “You just passed out and I really don’t want to have to catch you again.”
Confusion swamped me. “I...I didn’t pass out.”
“You really going to argue with me when you just dropped like a sack of potatoes?”
Sack of potatoes? That was...flattering. “I’ve never passed out in my entire life.”
“Well, there’s a first time for everything.”
I tried to see where we were, but there weren’t enough lights. “Where are we? Where’s Nicolai?”
“He went ahead to get Thierry. I have no idea where a hospital is in this place. If I did, that’s where your ass would be.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to not think about the fact that I was being carried by Zayne, who wasn’t just the most attractive guy I’d ever seen but also—
“You...smell.”
“What?” I gasped through gritted teeth as my eyes flew open. We were under lights now—floodlights—and Zayne was staring down at me as he strode forward. “I’m bleeding to death and you’re taking the time to tell me I smell?”
“I thought you were fine?” he said.
“I don’t... I don’t smell.”
“You do.” He sounded confused. “You smell like...ice cream.”
I blinked, thinking the blow to my head had messed up my hearing. “What?”
“You do.” A short, unsure laugh shook Zayne. “I didn’t even know it had a smell, but it does. Vanilla and sugar,” he went on, and I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not.
“I do not smell like ice cream,” I grumbled. “And put me—”
“Trinity!” Thierry roared my name so loudly I was sure the heavens heard him, and then he was there, beside us. He touched my cheek. “Dear God, bring her inside now.”
Zayne didn’t need to be told twice. He climbed the steps and we went through the open door, into the well-lit house. I caught a brief glimpse of Matthew. He was rushing forward with his bag of hopefully really, really strong meds.
“Was it Clay?” Thierry asked.
Zayne tensed. “Who in the Hell is Clay?”
My heart jumped in my chest. Would he have done this because of me kicking him through a window? I thought about what he’d said at the pit. One of these days. That was kind of a warning.
“I...I don’t know.” I wasn’t sure how much I could answer in front of Zayne, and I had no idea where Nicolai was. “I didn’t see who it was, but he’s not...” I trailed off, meeting Thierry’s stare, willing him to understand what I couldn’t say.
There was a slight widening of his eyes, and I knew Thierry understood. “Oh, Trinity,” he whispered. “Where did this happen?”
I told him where and then whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“What did I tell you before?” he said, touching my brow.
“I don’t know,” I whispered. “You’ve told me a lot.”
Thierry’s chuckle was hoarse. “I’ll ask you again later, the next time you apologize for what you cannot help.”
Then Matthew was there, edging Thierry aside. His gaze roamed over me, lingering on the arm smushed against Zayne’s chest. “What have you gotten yourself into this time, Trin?”
“A little trouble.”
The corners of Matthew’s lips curved. “A little trouble just finds you, doesn’t it?”
“Always,” I whispered.
“You can help her?” Zayne interrupted, and my gaze shifted to him. I looked up and I couldn’t... I couldn’t look away. He was staring down at me, the strong line of his jaw hard. “Because I really think she’s bleeding to death all over me.”
I started to frown. He didn’t need to sound so...put out about it. “I didn’t make you pick me up.”
“Should I have just left you out there, lying on the ground?”
“Yeah,” I said defiantly. “And I wasn’t lying on the ground. You nearly knocked me over.”
“You ran into me.”
“Because you were hiding behind a wall!”
“Now, you know I’m not the one who hides behind things.” Zayne’s striking face was perplexed. “So, you’d prefer me to have left you there?”
“It beats you bitching about me bleeding on you.”