Within the Flames

Chapter Twelve

All Eddie saw, before Lyssa took the package, was the edge of a sleek, spotted hide. That was enough. He knew, in his gut, what it meant. But when he saw the horror and devastation that spread over her face, he was unprepared for his own reaction.

Rage. Pure, unbridled fury.

Those women who had murdered her friend, and probably others. . who were hurting Lyssa with these terrible games. .

. . they were going to die.

No, he told himself. No, don’t think that.

But it was impossible not to. He knew what else had been done to Estefan, but seeing that fur. . holding it in his hands. . made the cruelty and horror of his murder viscerally real in a way that it hadn’t been before. The idea of those same women coming close to Lyssa strained his control to the breaking point.

She threw the parcel to the floor and turned away, gagging. He pressed to her side, holding back her hair — holding her — as she sank to her knees. She tried to push him away, but he didn’t budge.

Her grief killed him. It was too familiar.

Lyssa kept trying to grieve in silence, but he was wrapped so tightly around her that every shudder filled him — each heaving breath that shook her body, shaking his as though she were going to break apart against him.

Eddie remained quiet as long as he dared, but he watched the door the entire time — straining to hear if anyone was outside.

Finally, he murmured, “Lyssa.”

She buried her face against his chest, momentarily stilling.

“We have to go,” he told her quietly. “It’s not safe here.”

Her fingers tightened around his arm. “Okay.”

Her voice was so soft and muffled, he barely heard her. Eddie helped her stand, but she shook so badly, her teeth chattered. Her skin was cold, and he slid his hands beneath her sweater, pressing them hard against her waist and back. He focused on bringing heat into palms, even more heat than he had used on Aaron Roacher.

Fire flowed through his blood, fire that sank from his body into hers, as easily as if it were the same body, same blood, same life. Golden light streamed from her eyes, mixing with her tears.

He kissed her. “Can you stand without me?”

Lyssa nodded, face crumpling as she pressed her left hand over her mouth. A sob broke, and she turned from him, choking.

Eddie took a deep breath, then another — fighting to focus past her heartbreak — but when he started wrapping the shifter’s skin in the parcel paper, she turned and watched. It was difficult to work, feeling the heat of her gaze on his every movement.

He tried to be careful, respectful, but there was only so much he could do.

Eddie placed the remains in his backpack, then picked up Lyssa’s bag, slinging everything over his shoulder. He found her wiping tears from her cheeks. Grief was raw in her eyes, but her breathing was steadier, and there was a new hardness in her jaw that made her look almost. . cruel.

“Estefan,” she whispered. “He was a good man.”

I know, Eddie wanted to tell her, but a strong sense of self-preservation kept his mouth shut. Eventually, she would discover he had known the shifter was dead — and kept it from her. But not now.

“I can’t take this anymore. I’m done.”

“Lyssa,” he said.

Her eyes glowed. “I’m going to kill them. I’m going to rip their guts out.”

Anger was better than misery. . but Eddie felt cold when she said that. He knew she meant every word.

What kind of stain would that put on her heart? He knew killers. He knew men who killed to protect the people they loved. He had known people who killed just because they liked it.

Murder always changed the eyes. Lyssa didn’t have those eyes.

But I do, he thought, filled with dread and fear — for her and himself.

“Your friend,” she said, her eyes bloodshot, bright. “I wasn’t certain Lannes was safe before. . but now? If Betty and Nikola have been following me, then they must know about him. A gargoyle. . would be as attractive as a dragon.”

Eddie reached for his phone. “If we could find a way to keep them from tracking you. .”

“I think I know how they did it.” Her voice was ragged, hoarse. “When she. . when she killed Estefan. . she stole the essence of a shape-shifter. Same essence as mine. It’s no exact science, but with enough power. . power she certainly has. . she could take that essence and use it to find any shape-shifter near her.”

“And then make Betty and Nikola do her dirty work? Why these games? Why is this so personal?”

She closed her eyes, swaying. “Call your friend.”

“Lyssa.”

“I can’t—” She stopped, and softened her voice, though it broke with grief. “It has to do with why she murdered my parents, but that’s. . that’s all I can tell you. For now. Please, Eddie.”

Her plea bought his silence but did nothing to ease the ache. He felt too much around her, too much that was reckless and dangerous.

Eddie stepped close, staring into her eyes — trying to harden his heart. But it was impossible when she stared at him with those golden eyes, tear-struck, and glimmering with light.

“They’ll come after you,” she whispered. “They’ll go after the people I care about before they come after me.”

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m not that easy to kill.”

Lyssa stepped back from him and looked down. “Better make that call.”

She really was going to break his heart. Eddie found Lannes’s number. On the third ring, the gargoyle answered.

“Eddie,” he said, sounding breathless. “I’m glad you called.”

Dread filled him. “What’s happened?”

“Lethe’s family is in some kind of uproar. They won’t let her go.”

Eddie was silent a moment. “What does that mean?”

“It means I need to face a household full of witches to get my wife back.”

“Have you talked with her?”

“Barely. There’s too much going on in the background that I don’t understand, and she’s furious.” Lannes hesitated, his voice dropping. “She also sounds scared.”

“Hold on.” Eddie pressed the phone against his chest and looked at Lyssa, who watched him with stark concern. “Did you catch any of that?”

“Some. His wife is being held by witches?”

“Her family. For some reason, they won’t let her leave.” He hesitated. “None of them know she’s married to a gargoyle.”

Understanding entered her eyes. “If he goes to get her, they’ll see he’s wearing an illusion. And Lannes isn’t sure he can trust them.”

“It’s more than that.” Eddie’s voice dropped to a whisper. “He has a bad history with witches. He and his brothers were imprisoned and tortured by them.”

Lyssa paled. “He can’t go in there.”

“Not alone.”

They stared at each other.

“My presence will only cause trouble,” she said, rubbing the heel of her palm against her tear-stained cheek.

“I need to help him.”

“God,” she said brokenly. “This is going to be a mess.”

“Lethe is not her real name,” Eddie told Lyssa, during the stop-and-go cab ride to the Upper East Side address that Lannes had given them. “It’s Alice. She had amnesia and doesn’t remember her life from before a couple years ago.”

Lyssa glanced at the cab driver, but he was holding a loud conversation in Arabic over his cell phone, and ignoring them completely. “How did she meet Lannes?”

“Accident.” Eddie turned off the touch-screen television embedded in the divider. If he had to hear another ad for daytime television, he was going to throw himself into traffic. “They found each other not long after she lost her memories.”

“Lucky.” Lyssa plucked at the backseat’s peeling black vinyl and dragged down a shaky breath. “Some things I’d like to forget.”

He hesitated. “How long did you know Estefan?”

“Three years, but only six months of that was face-to-face. We met in Florida. It was an accident. Going there was stupid because of the heat and how I have to cover my body. But I missed the sun and ocean.” Lyssa rubbed her face. “Do you have more tissues?”

Eddie reached into his backpack and found one.

She blew her nose. “There was a waitress he liked to flirt with at this little café near the water. We happened to be there at the same time. It had been years since I’d seen another of my kind, and the same was true for Estefan. I couldn’t help but talk to him.”

“He was a good friend.”

“So good. I was skittish at first, and he had such patience. I can’t tell you what it meant to me that someone knew. . what I was. He made me feel less alone.”

“There wasn’t anyone else you could have gone to? Your father’s family? Your mother didn’t have relatives? No friends, even?”

“No one. No one wanted anything to do with my family. My father lost his friends when he married my mother.”

Eddie stared, baffled. “Why?”

Lyssa looked down at her gloved hands, but he knew she was seeing past cashmere to scales and claws. “Ignorance and fear. Not that it matters anymore.”

It mattered to her, and to him. “Because your mother was a witch?”

“Yes.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” When she didn’t take his invitation to explain, he added, “Is that why you’re angry at Long Nu?”

“She sent you to deal with me instead of coming herself. I think that says it all.”

“She told me it would draw the wrong kind of attention to you.”

A bitter smile touched her mouth. “You believe that?”

Eddie leaned back. “You think Long Nu was afraid that she would become a victim.”

“For all her power, she is still vulnerable to the Cruor Venator and her women. You, on the other hand. .” Lyssa gave him a curious look. “Why were you able to resist them?”

“I had a priority more important than fear.”

“Must have been a good one.”

“It was you,” he said. “So yes, it was.”

Lyssa stared, and his cheeks heated — especially when a faint, warm smile broke over her face.

“You should use that line in a bar. It would get you laid, like, a thousand times a night.”

Eddie smiled back. “That sounds exhausting.”

“What are you, eighty?” Lyssa closed her eyes, leaning against him. Her smile faded. “Long Nu doesn’t want to end up like Estefan. He’s dead because of me.”

He felt like an asshole. “Maybe it was a coincidence. The Cruor Venator found him, then realized the connection afterward.”

“Maybe. But I didn’t hide myself in that town. Everyone knew he was looking out for me. I stayed in his home. If the witch tracked me there, and asked questions. .”

That was exactly how it had happened. Again, Eddie kept his mouth shut and hated himself for it.

Lyssa shoved her wet tissue into the jacket pocket — and an odd look passed through her eyes. When her left hand emerged, it was with the plastic bag that contained her charred, flaking photo. It was slightly more ragged than he remembered, but her young, smiling face was still intact.

Eddie thought about his sister and felt a pang in his heart.

“You were happy then,” he said quietly, thinking that was something he should remember, too. “Don’t forget that, no matter what happens.”

Some of the tension left her shoulders — but when she glanced at him, her eyes were red-rimmed again, and bright.

“Seems like since I met you, I’ve been crying nonstop,” she said, and stroked the bag covering the photo. “You’re right. I was happy. If there was a kid who had a better childhood, I’d like to meet her. My parents were the best. There was so much love in our family.”

“I’m sorry you lost them.”

She gave him a heartbreaking smile. “I was going to have a brother. My mom was pregnant when she died.”

Eddie’s breath caught. Lyssa looked again at the photo, and her smile faded.

“Sometimes. . I think my mom knew she wasn’t going to last long. Or maybe she was just paranoid. She tried to teach me as much as she could, even when my dad thought she went overboard.” Her hand began to shake, and she set the photo down in her lap. “I miss them.”

I miss my sister, he wanted to tell her. I miss her every day and think about all the ways I could have done things differently. If I could turn back time. .

Eddie carefully took her hand in his. He felt wounded, touching her. Heartsore, grieving for his losses. . and for hers.

She snuggled closer, without hesitation, resting her head against his chest as though she’d done so a million times before. The familiarity of that gesture, the trust in it, made tenderness burst inside him in a rush of heat that went deeper than any fire.

No person had ever done this to him. He wasn’t even sure what this was. . except that it wasn’t just infatuation. It wasn’t just his lonely self, reaching out to the first woman who could meet and withstand his fire.

Fire was nothing but a chemical reaction releasing heat and light. Fire could be struck with a match, or lightning. Fire was common.

This. . what he felt when close to Lyssa. . was something else entirely. Losing her would mean losing his life. As ridiculous as that should have been, it was truer than anything in his life.

How was he going to protect her? Was there any way to keep her safe that wouldn’t end in killing?

She made a small hissing sound and touched her nose. Blood dotted her fingertips.

“Are you sick?” he asked, alarmed.

“Side effect,” she muttered. “Don’t worry. I haven’t done any magic in almost ten years. It puts stress on the body.”

Anger made his voice sharp. “Anything else you want to tell me?”

The cab driver swerved to the right and braked hard, nearly sending them into the divider. But Eddie never took his gaze off Lyssa, who — for one moment — gave him a haunted look that chilled him to the bone.

“We’re here,” announced the cab driver. “Close, anyway.”

Close enough to see Lannes, less than half a block away. Even though it was dark, his size made him stand out. The gargoyle, clad in his illusion, waited on the Central Park side of Fifth Avenue, leaning against one of the old, slightly bent trees growing from the sidewalk. Dead leaves littered the ground, and the park woodlands stretched behind him on the other side of the wall. It was all very idyllic — except for the worry on Lannes’s face as he spoke into his cell phone.

Eddie and Lyssa slid out of the cab. The gargoyle strode toward them, and they met beneath another tree — a tangle of hearts and initials carved into the bark.

“They’re here,” Lannes said into the phone, his massive frame strained and rigid. “No, I’m coming for you. It doesn’t matter anymore, baby. Just. . hold tight.”

He did not hang up but tilted the receiver from his mouth and gave them both a sharp look — especially Lyssa. “There are eight people up there, ranging in ages from twenty to seventy. All family. All upset.”

“Not because of Lethe?” Eddie asked.

“No. I think it has to do with the Cruor Venator.” He gave Lyssa a significant look, and she raised her brow.

“In a perfect world,” she told him, “you wouldn’t even know I exist. Don’t think I wanted this.”

Lannes grunted. Eddie stepped closer to her. “Lethe can’t tell them she needs some fresh air?”

“She tried that. They’re being especially protective.” Lannes pressed the phone to his mouth again. “Okay. I love you.”

They waited for traffic to pass and crossed the road to an elegant building constructed from pale stone. On the other side, though, Lyssa held back and flagged down a cab.

Eddie watched her pass him a twenty.

“I’ll give you another forty, plus fare, if you wait here,” she told him. “We shouldn’t be more than ten minutes, and we’ll want to leave fast.”

“Gonna rob a bank?” teased the man.

“Family reunion.”

“Holy shit,” he said. “I’ll buckle up.”

Eddie gave her an amused look. Lyssa shrugged, rubbing her eyes. “What? You think I want to be stuck here?”

Lannes grunted. “Come on.”

The doorman eyed their faces but didn’t give them any trouble going in. Lethe’s family lived on the top floor. The elevator ride was short, and claustrophobic. Lannes took up most of the space and kept fidgeting.

All while staring at Lyssa. Not with a pleasant look on his face, either.

“There’s something different about you,” he said, just as the elevator reached the tenth floor. “You’ve done magic, haven’t you?”

Lyssa tensed. “Does that bother you?”

He frowned. “Let’s get my wife, then I’ll let it bother me.”

There was only one door on the tenth floor. Eddie heard shouts on the other side.

“What a crappy day for visiting people,” Lyssa muttered.

Lannes dragged in a deep breath, and banged his fist on the door so hard, the entire frame shook. Silence fell on the other side.

And then, very distantly, they heard a woman shout, “LET ME GO!”

Lannes’s entire frame shuddered.

Eddie reacted instinctively, grabbing Lyssa and pulling her out of the way — just as the gargoyle stepped back, his massive hands flexing with loud cracks of bone.

The look in his eyes was pure death, and, with an ear-deafening roar, he slammed his foot into the door — and kicked it in.

Wood splintered everywhere. Eddie heard shouts and gasps of surprise, and followed Lannes into the apartment — fire already burning in his hands. He checked for Lyssa and found her behind him, her eyes glowing, mouth set in a hard line. Fresh blood dotted her nostrils and upper lip.

Five men and women were ranged around the room, all tall, fair-haired, with chiseled cheekbones and slender bodies. None wore bright colors, which reflected the apartment — decorated in white, black, and gray. Books lined tall shelves, and a grand piano sat in the corner. Suitcases lined the wall.

All those people looked stunned, and not at all dangerous. Three more women came running from the hall, of such similar appearance they could have only been sisters. Lethe was behind them, slender and blond, and very pale.

She was the only one dressed in color: a sea-blue silken blouse, with dark jeans and emerald green ballet flats. Golden earrings dangled. Her face was flushed, furious. Eddie had only met her once before, the previous year, during a rooftop barbecue in San Francisco. Sometimes shy, but with a wicked sense of humor, and deep, deep love for the gargoyle who rarely left her side.

When she saw Lannes, a tremendous smile broke out on her face.

“Oh, my God,” said an old man, staring at the gargoyle with disgust. “What is that thing?”

Lethe burst out laughing, but it was sharp and hard, and brittle. Some of her family flinched, but not one took their gaze off Lannes — or him and Lyssa.

“Uncle Douglas,” said Lethe, pushing around the women surrounding her, “that thing is my husband.”

Finally, the entire room did look at her.

“Oh, my God,” said the old man, again.

“I apologize for breaking your door,” rumbled Lannes, with an incongruous politeness that Eddie, under other circumstances, would have found amusing. “I’ll pay for the damages, but my wife is coming with me now.”

No one said a word.

Lethe, who had been running toward Lannes, stopped moving — so suddenly, it was as though her feet were caught in quicksand. Eddie didn’t understand at first why she seemed to hang forward, as if on puppet strings.

It wasn’t until outrage flickered over her face that he realized it wasn’t her choice. Lannes growled, and strode toward her — or tried to. He took one step, and the same thing happened.

His illusion disappeared, as well.

Stripped into nothing but air, revealing his silver skin and massive bound wings. His eyes glowed red, and the tips of his fingers were sharp. His entire body was rigid and straining.

The men and women in the room leaned forward and stared at Lannes as though he were some circus freak.

Eddie scanned their faces. The old man was rubbing his jaw, clutching a cane between his knees, and the middle-aged woman seated on the bench beside him held a glass of red wine in a white-knuckled grip. The three sisters pressed closed together, noses wrinkled as though they smelled something bad and wanted to say, “Ew.”

An elderly woman stood behind Lethe. She was dressed in a loose black dress, and gold bangles jangled on her birdlike wrists. Elegant, graceful, with silver hair tucked up in a small bun. She placed a gentle hand on Lethe’s shoulder.

But that was all. If there was a fight, and magic was involved. .

An odd chill raced over Eddie, as though he stood in an ice-cold river, waters rising over his head. A rippling, lapping sensation.

Energy, came the unbidden thought. This is magic.

Lannes’s muscles strained, and he edged forward another step — though it seemed to cost him a great deal of strength. “You don’t want to do this.”

One of the woman, tall and dressed in black, folded her arms over her chest. She was extremely thin, more so than could be healthy. Eddie hadn’t seen anyone that close to starvation since looking at pictures of concentration-camp victims in World War II.

Her collarbone protruded at painful angles — so did her cheekbones. If her body was cadaverous, however, her eyes were a brilliant shade of green and the most alive and vibrant part of her. Loose blond hair flowed down her back, so perfectly styled she might have just come from a hairdresser.

She gave Lannes a piercing look. “It has been fifty years since I saw one of your kind. I heard rumors that you still existed, but frankly, I thought the world had become too small for gargoyles.”

“Not yet,” he muttered, but there was a note of strain in his voice that made Eddie recall his stories of imprisonment: locked in his body for years, unable to move. “Let my wife go.”

“Wife,” said the woman heavily. “You cannot possibly be married to my daughter.”

Lethe made a furious sound. “Mother.”

“Shut up,” she snapped — and the young woman’s jaw shut. Muscles worked in her throat, and she made a choked, snarling sound that was short and furious. But her mouth. . her mouth would not open. . and it was clear that she was trying.

Her mother swayed, staring at her. “How could you be so stupid? Don’t you know this is impossible? Even. . thinking about it. . God. It’s an anathema.”

The old woman standing beside Lethe stepped forward with a disapproving frown.

“Take care with your temper and insults, Morgana,” she said in crisp, quiet tones — and then, much to Eddie’s surprise, she stared directly at Lyssa. “Your power in this room is infinitely small right now.”

“Don’t lecture me, Ursula.” The woman’s pale features smoothed into a cold, hard mask — and she focused that heavy, glinting gaze on Lethe. “I understand now why you wouldn’t give me a name, why you refused to say a word. And why you were so shocked.” She took a deep breath, pale hands smoothing down her dress. “Tell me honestly. Is it really his?”

Lethe gave her a hateful look. A trickle of understanding filled Eddie, but it was so unexpected, so entirely impossible, he wasn’t sure he could be right.

“Yes,” she said, growling the word.

The old man muttered to himself. The sisters exchanged disgusted glances. The elderly woman, Ursula, only sighed — and watched Lyssa with puzzlement and sadness. Eddie’s gaze slid to Lyssa, but she was studying Lethe and didn’t seem to notice the others’ scrutiny.

“God,” said Morgana, closing her eyes with visible revulsion. “How could you? I thought, at least, your baby was human. . but this?”

Eddie’s gut clenched. Lannes sucked in his breath with shock and stared at Lethe. His wife’s eyes were filled with determination — the answer there as she stared back at him.

She was pregnant.

“Lethe,” whispered Lannes, and the reverence in his voice should have melted even a stone heart. But Morgana’s mouth twisted with disdain, and a shudder raced through her that was pure revulsion.

“Her name,” she said in a clear, granite tones, “is Alice. And she will never bear your child. Not now. Not ever. I will rip it from her myself if I have to.”

Lannes said nothing; he might as well have screamed, given the crackle of raw, pure energy that suddenly coursed through that room. He lurched forward one step, and the three sisters winced and touched their heads. He took another step, muscles straining, gaze burning with disgust and resolve.

And then Morgana made a slashing motion with her hand, and he stopped, again.

Lyssa cursed to herself, but Eddie stayed quiet, burying his heart so deep he could barely feel it. Lethe was quiet, too, but it was a deadly, simmering silence that was murderous, and cold.

Morgana said, “If you leave now, gargoyle. . I will not hurt you.”

“Keep him,” muttered the old man, tapping his cane on the floor. “In case the Cruor Venator finds us. Perhaps we can trade his life, or use him as a distraction. It might make all the difference.”

“You don’t bargain with the Cruor Venator,” murmured Lyssa, but no one seemed to hear her but Eddie.

Ursula stepped forward, golden bangles chiming. “You can’t be serious, Morgana. This is absurd.”

“It’s survival. And not a bad idea.”

“It’s disgusting. She loves him. It’s obvious he loves her. If you kill her child. .”

“No,” Lannes spat, while Lethe made a furious sound, deep in her throat. “Don’t you touch her—”

“—you might as well kill Alice,” finished the old woman. “I won’t let you do that.”

Morgana gave her an icy look. “Are you going to stop all of us? With what? A sharp word?”

Eddie listened, sickened. Were these people actually talking about his friends as though they could be imprisoned and sold? Were they really discussing whether or not to kill their child?

He tested his hands and found he could still move. Fire filled his fingertips, hot, mixed with anger. He was just about to speak, when sharp laughter filled the room.

It was Lyssa.

She stared at Morgana — at all of them — with pure, rock-hard disdain. It took Eddie by surprise because up until then he hadn’t imagined her confronting these witches, not when she’d been so hesitant to come in the first place.

Her scorn, however, was a shocking, beautiful thing.

“Look at all of you,” she said, with withering contempt. “Look at how ridiculous you are. You think a little power means something? You think it gives you the right to control another living being?”

Morgana narrowed her eyes. “Who are you?”

Ursula shook her head, looking at the other woman as though she was a fool. “Morgana, be smart. Don’t say another word.”

“Why?” She waved a bony hand at Lyssa. “She’s a little girl. Nothing but a shape-shifter. Give me a real challenge.”

A slow smile touched Lyssa’s mouth, and it was dark and chilling, and reminded Eddie too much of that cruel hardness that had transformed her face when she talked about killing Estefan’s murderers.

“A challenge?” she echoed, too softly. “You will not keep this woman against her will. And you are not touching her baby. Over my dead body.”

Everyone but Ursula shifted — sideways and forward, at the same time — though not with quite the same movements. Close enough to be eerie, though.

Morgana unfolded her arms, staring. “I can rip you apart with my mind.”

“Then why do you need six minds to hold one gargoyle and your daughter? I can feel the link among you all. Without it, you could never hold either of them.” Lyssa shook her head and stripped off her glove, exposing her right hand. “No. You can’t touch me.”

She walked toward Lethe, and Eddie fell in beside her, silent as her shadow.

She gave him a brief, startled look. He didn’t understand why, and he didn’t care. Everyone in that room was staring at them with the same surprise — though their gazes were equally torn to her hand, with its glinting golden claws and crimson scales.

Morgana stepped in their path. Again, a wash of air rippled and undulated against his skin, but the fire rose from his heart and consumed the cold — swallowing that watery sensation until it was nothing. Lyssa stepped up to his side. Both of them faced the witch.

“Ma’am,” he said. “Move aside.”

Morgana frowned. “No.”

Eddie gritted his teeth and strode toward her, fire sparking off his hands, flames licking his wrists and threading into the air. He never engaged in deliberate displays of power, but his anger was too rich.

And power, it seemed to him, was all these people understood.

Lyssa moved with him, silent and graceful — deadly in her grace. No fire, but heat throbbed off her body, shimmering around them both.

Morgana’s eyes widened, and she slid sideways, almost staggering in her haste to keep him from touching her.

“Impossible,” she murmured, staring at him — and then Lyssa. “You can’t be immune to our power. Not both of you.”

She said it as if a blob of mud had just started quoting Shakespeare. Eddie was pretty certain he should feel insulted.

Lyssa squeezed his arm as she passed him. “Maybe you’re just that bad at magic.”

Morgana choked.

Lyssa ignored her and stopped in front of Lethe. Eddie protected her back, waiting for someone, anyone, to finally react. No one did. Just that one act of defiance had broken something in them. He could see it in their eyes.

Everyone, that is, except Ursula. . who gave him an oddly knowing look that was surprisingly kind, and resigned.

“I apologize for what I’m about to do,” Lyssa said to Lethe, then scratched the woman’s hand. Blood welled, coating her claw.

Lyssa placed it in her mouth and licked.

Everyone in that room sucked in their breath, as though punched. It was the kind of sound Eddie heard in theatres, watching horror movies. An uncontrolled reaction of shock and revulsion.

Morgana seemed the most undone, hands pressing down hard on her bony chest, as if she were trying to hold herself together.

“Oh, my God,” whispered the old man. “God save us.”

“Hey,” Lyssa said in a tense voice, and suddenly Lethe fell forward, staggering into Eddie’s arms. He tried not to let his hands touch her, afraid they were still too hot.

“Can you walk?” he said, keenly aware of Lyssa closing her eyes and swaying, her lips stretched in a grimace.

Lethe gave her mother a venomous look. “Absolutely.”

She pushed away from Eddie and ran to Lannes. She hugged him hard, pressing her cheek against his chest — but he remained frozen in place, grimacing with frustration and pain.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered.

Lethe kissed his chest and swung around to face her mother. No words. The betrayal in her eyes was enough — as well as the hate.

Ursula sighed. “Let him go, Morgana. You lost. You lost more than you had to.”

The woman stared at her daughter and swallowed hard as her pale, bony hands trembled. “You can’t be sure the baby will survive. There has never been a human and gargoyle hybrid. And if you do carry it to term, what then? What if the birth. . kills you?”

Lannes sucked in his breath. Tears glittered in Lethe’s eyes.

“Let him go,” she whispered.

“Let him go,” Lyssa said, flexing her claws. “Or I’ll make you.”

Morgana flashed her a hard look, one filled with fear and hate — but Lannes sagged forward with a grunt, reaching for Lethe in that same heartbeat of freedom. The desperate relief on his face hit Eddie in the gut.

After today — after so much violence and pain — it was like a star of hope, shining for one lost moment.

He looked at Lyssa and found her watching them, too. He reached for her left hand. She flinched when he touched her — and then relaxed — giving him soft, grim eyes.

It was as if she was reaching for him with just her gaze — and he felt himself reaching back, with all the cold broken pieces of his heart.

“Alice,” whispered Morgana, but her daughter deliberately turned her back and grabbed her husband’s arm in a white-knuckled grip.

Eddie couldn’t see her face or hear more than the murmur of her voice, but Lannes dipped his head, silver hair falling past his broad shoulders — and his eyes were hard and full of love as he whispered, “Yes.”

He looked past her at Morgana and the rest of the witches.

“If you come after us,” he said quietly, “it will be war.”

Eddie felt a shiver course through the room.

“War,” murmured Morgana, glancing at Lyssa. “I believe you.”

Lyssa did not move a muscle, but the sense of menace that had been growing around her seemed to spark and intensify, until it was as though actual doom was descending: a hard dread that was physical and cold as ice. Eddie felt it, but the sensation slid off him like water.

It did not slide off the rest of the room, though. He saw pale faces, hollow eyes, and fear. Fear that was sharp, biting.

“You damn well better believe it,” whispered Lyssa. “You go after any gargoyle, or your daughter—or their child — and there will be a storm that comes down on your head that you won’t rise from, ever. Do you understand me?”

Only an idiot wouldn’t understand. Eddie didn’t know if it was Estefan’s murder that made her so angry now, or if she had always been this full of purpose and intensity. What he was certain of, though, was that he wanted to bow his head from the odd, dark pleasure that filled him when he listened to her. He squeezed her hand, and though she did not look away from Morgana, her fingers tightened around his. Fire between their palms.

The witch trembled and looked at her daughter. “Don’t do this. Don’t go with that monster.”

“I love him,” Lethe hissed.

“Not him,” she replied. “Her.”

Lyssa started laughing again, but it was a strangled sound that put even Eddie on edge. Not with fear, but concern. He remembered how she had tasted her own blood — and the aftermath. Like a drug user coming down from a high.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the consequences of tasting someone else’s blood, if there were any. He didn’t understand magic or witches, or how any of this was supposed to work. . just that his job was to make things right and safe. Somehow.

Almost every witch in that room seemed to shrink from Lyssa’s voice.

“I’m the monster?” she asked softly, eyes glowing with golden light. Morgana stepped back, burying her hands against her long skirts. A tremor raced through her.

Ursula stepped toward Lethe and Lannes and made a shooing motion. “Go on, now. Quick.”

Lethe glanced back at the old woman, tears spilling down her cheeks. Lannes barely looked at her. His focus was on Lyssa. Eddie didn’t like what was in his eyes. Too much bad news. Like he’d just discovered that you could catch a terminal disease from breathing the air.

“We’re gone.” Lannes wrapped his arms around his wife and gave Eddie a haunted look. “Eddie—”

But he didn’t finish.

Lannes staggered forward, grunting in pain, nearly taking Lethe to the ground as he went down on one knee.

He was big. His body had been blocking the entire doorway. But when he moved, Eddie saw that someone else had been standing behind him.

Betty. Pale, beautiful, and smiling. Seeing her was like being slapped in the face by a nightmare that Eddie had, until that moment, forgotten.

She held a curved obsidian blade in her hand, which was dripping blood from the shallow cut that she’d made across Lannes’s back.

“A gargoyle, a dragon, and a roomful of witches,” she murmured. “What a perfect day.”