Nika was sure there was no way they could kill all of these things. “Maybe I can teleport us again, next to Tori. You can hold them off while we grab her and I teleport everyone away again.”

“I felt how much power it took you to do that the first time. You may be able to get us over there, but I don’t think you’ll be able to get us back out. And there’s no way I can fight them off if I’m surrounded.”

“Just take me,” said Tynan. “If there are fewer of us, it’ll be easier.”

“You’ll have to be quick,” said Madoc. “They’ll tear into you in seconds. You puke, you die.”

“Right. No more puking.”

“All right. Tell me when you’re going and I’ll draw them over here.”

Nika gathered Madoc’s power into her and said, “On three. One . . . two ...”

Chapter 25

Gilda, Angus, Drake, and Helen had been driven back to where the single Theronai guarded their exit.

Exhaustion bore down at Gilda. She kept trying to pull more power into herself, but it was like trying to breathe through a narrow straw. She couldn’t get enough flow to catch her breath, much less slay Synestryn.

She felt Angus’s frustration pounding at her, but there was nothing she could do about it. He was right. She’d been foolish in pushing him away and now they were left weaker because of her lies and pride. Because he could not come to terms with her betrayal. Not that she could blame him.

Another pillar of fire gushed out of Helen, but she was sagging with effort. She turned to Gilda, panting. Twin tears of flame slid from her bloodshot eyes. “I’m almost out of juice. We’ve got to get out of here.”

Normally, Gilda would have stepped up and taken over, but there was no point in that. Even as tired as Helen was, she was still stronger than Gilda right now.

From behind her, she heard a commotion and turned in time to see Nicholas herding half a dozen dirty humans into the safety of the corridor.

“There are more kids in here. Iain went to find them. I need to go help.”

“Retreat,” bellowed Angus. “Get the humans out. We’ll protect your backs.”

Liam led the way, but he came to a quick, sudden halt and drew his sword. “Too late. They must have come in from another passage or outside. The way out’s blocked.”

Gilda sagged against the wall in regret. They were dead. Unless Andra suddenly showed up, they were out of firepower and out of options. She was going to have to watch more of her family die.

Angus’s spark of anger and determination flared through their connection. “Drake, Helen, you two blast us a way out. Gilda, you and I are going to hold this tunnel and give them time to get free.”

“How?” she asked him. “I have no strength.”

He looked into her eyes, and for the first time in years, she saw something truly frightening in his expression. He backed her against the stone wall, towering over her. “Then I suggest you find some. I’m not letting these innocents die because of the mistakes we’ve made.”

“It’s not as if I can simply will them away.”

“Maybe you should give that a try and see if it works, because you and I are doing this. Now.” He grabbed her arm and stepped up behind Helen. She had set a fire along the pathway, but right on the other side of those flames were dozens of hungry Synestryn.

“Go,” Angus bellowed. “Get them out.”

“What about you?” asked Helen.

“Gilda will teleport us out. Don’t wait for us.”

Gilda wasn’t sure if Angus was being optimistic about her strength or if he just said that to get the others moving, but whatever his reason, it worked. Drake and Helen left, disappearing down the tunnel with the rest of the group.

The flames filled the space, wavering with unnatural heat. One of the demons poked a paw through and it screamed in pain.

“You know I’m too weak to teleport,” she told her husband.

“I know.”

“So you’re content to die down here?”

“No. I simply know that you’re at your best when the stakes are highest. I thought the situation might motivate you to pull your head out of your ass.”

Shock rattled her, but she didn’t let it show. Angus never spoke to her like that.

“Maybe I should have,” he said. “Maybe if I hadn’t coddled you all these years, we wouldn’t be where we are now.”

“I didn’t plan any of this.”

“I sure as hell hope not.”

“How do we undo years of damage in the time it takes for those flames to wink out?”

Angus shook his head, staring down at her. The sadness in his blue eyes was enough to make her cry. He was too good a man to be suffering like this, too kind.

She didn’t deserve him, but she loved him. So much. She would do anything for him—anything to make up for the harm she’d caused.

Time to show it. Time to let go of what she wanted and give him what he wanted for a change. She owed him at least that much.

She grabbed his face and pulled him down for a kiss. He was stiff at first, but it didn’t take long for that to change. Heat flared between them and his tongue swept in to taste her, as if he’d been dying to do it for way too long.

A rough groan of need rose out of his chest and she felt a faint tickling at her throat. She was too busy enjoying his mouth to worry about it. They had only a few seconds before they had to get back to work. It might be the last few seconds they ever spent together.

Angus pulled away, breathing hard. He pressed his forehead to hers, and the firelight shadowed the deep lines in his face.

“I love you, woman.”

“I love you, too. Always. I won’t deny you anymore. We’ll find a way to get back to where we belong.”

“Damn right we will.”

“No more secrets. No more lies.”

“I’m going to be too close to you for you to have the chance.”

“I’ll earn your trust again. I swear it.”

Angus smiled down at her and the cold spaces in her heart seemed to warm. “You already have. All is forgiven.”

As the words left his mouth, the weight she’d been carrying around for so long lifted. She felt free. Light. Young.

“Well, isn’t this touching,” came a high-pitched voice.

Gilda turned to see the mass of Synestryn part, allowing Maura to step up to the wall of fire.

A mother’s grief tore through Gilda as she saw her baby girl. She was dressed all in black, showing far too much skin beneath the tattered lace. Black crystal glittered around her throat and dripped from her ears. Anger twisted her dainty features as Maura bared her teeth.

“I’m surprised you’re still alive,” said Maura. “Where are the others?”

Angus’s hand tightened on Gilda’s arm in warning. “Dead. We’re the last left.”

Maura’s laugh was hollow with disbelief. “My pets are gone. You’ve taken them, haven’t you?”

“Pets?” asked Angus.

The wall of flame began to shrink. It no longer reached the rock ceiling.

“The humans,” said Maura. “I want them back. I hate being lonely.”

“Then come with us,” urged Gilda. “You’ll never be lonely again.”

“You know I can’t. Dabyr is a place for people with souls. Thanks to you, dear Mother, I have none.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is. You ripped it from me the day you cut Sibyl and me in half.”

“You’re wrong. I’ve seen the good in you. This path you’ve chosen is just that—a choice.”

Maura smiled. “And so is this.” She pointed to the floor where the flames were rooted. A hulking Synestryn to her right flung himself forward onto the fire.

It screamed and writhed, but fell silent in a few seconds. Maura stepped up onto the thing’s back, using it as a bridge to cross over the fire.

Angus lifted his sword. Gilda refused to panic. She gathered power into her, readying it for use at a moment’s notice.

Angus’s power flowed into her more easily—not like normal, but better than before.

Maura came to stand in front of them. Not a single Synestryn had moved to attack.

Hope surged in Gilda’s soul. Maybe her baby had decided to come back after all.

Gilda reached out a trembling hand toward her daughter.

Maura looked at her hand with an almost wistful expression, as if she wanted something she could never have. “Everyone I touch dies.”

Gilda ached for her baby and all the mistakes they’d both made. She should have been a better example. She should have spent more time reassuring Maura that she was loved and needed. But like so many other things Gilda had done, it was too late for anything but regret.

“It wasn’t always that way,” she reminded Maura. “It doesn’t have to be that way now. Come with us. Come home. We love you.”

“You can’t love someone who has no soul. I’m a thing. Plastic and hollow. A weapon. You can’t love a weapon.”

“You’re our daughter,” said Angus. “You’re our flesh and blood, part of us.”

Tears welled in Maura’s eyes before she blinked them away a second later. “I don’t belong with you. My place is here. Killing. Destroying. That is what people with no souls do.”

Gilda saw the change in her daughter the second it began. Whatever cracks of doubt she and Angus may have caused healed up. Maura squared her shoulders and that evil glint came back to her eyes. The softness in her expression vanished and standing before them was no longer their daughter. It was their enemy.

“Daddy,” said Maura, reaching for Angus as if to hug him.

Everyone I touch dies.

Gilda couldn’t let that happen to Angus.

She used the power she’d gathered to propel herself forward toward Maura. She tackled her, bearing her down to the ground. The feel of her daughter’s body against hers brought back countless memories of the times she’d held Maura or rocked her to sleep.

Each memory broke Gilda’s heart all over again.

Maura fought, but she had a child’s strength and Gilda subdued her easily. By the time she’d pinned Maura against her body, preventing her from moving, the wall of flames had died down enough that the Synestryn on the far side could leap over it.

Angus had placed himself in the way of their advance, but there were too many for him to fight alone.

“Stop!” shouted Gilda, imbuing her words with the power of command.

Everyone froze, including Angus.

Gilda dragged Maura up, still restraining her. She wrapped a hand around her daughter’s throat and said, “I’ll choke her if you come closer. Get back.”

The Synestryn slithered back a few feet, but that was all.

Maura’s body began to shake with laughter. “I’ve already won. You touched me, so you’re dead. Which means Father is, too. My troops don’t have to do a thing.”

A throb of panic bloomed inside her, but Gilda controlled it. “Your magic won’t work on me.”