I took a breath, pulling the line in until my blood nearly sang with it.

  “I got this,” Trent said, his hand moving in a complicated gesture. “Entrono voulden,” he shouted, and my breath hissed out in surprise when a visible thread of line energy sped from his palm-thrust hands, circling the trio. I’d seen this before in the belly of the monastery, but instead of binding them into a cluster and knocking them out with one spell, it broke, little trills of energy snaking about until it touched one of the assassins.

  Like a whipcrack, the entire spell snapped to the hapless man, downing him alone until the woman shot a little blue ball of force at him and Trent’s spell disintegrated.

  I took a step, alarmed as the once-downed man bounded to his feet, an ugly expression on his face.

  “She’s good,” Trent said grimly.

  “Not good enough.” I looked at the woman, pointing at her, then me in invitation. You’re mine, witchy witch. “Someday, you’re going to have to teach me that spell.” My smile widened as the woman nodded her agreement, an ugly blue dripping from her hands as she headed right for me. “Incoming!”

  I sprang one way, Trent dove the other. Pain throbbed as my shoulder hit the pavement and rolled. The assassins scattered, their intent obvious.

  “Don’t let them circle us!” I shouted, then rolled again to evade the glowing blue balls that woman was throwing at me, pure energy right off the line. Even without being modified by a spell, it would fry my synapses like toast on the sun.

  “Rhombus!” I shouted, jerking when three individual spells hit my invoked circle. A whoosh of energy flamed through me, and I stared. She had modified her raw, thrown energy to match my aura and fry me from within. But I was a demon, and all it did was make me stronger.

  Ticked, I got to my feet, static shooting from my unbound hair. “Nice try,” I said, my hands coming together in a sharp clap to gather her energy . . . then shove it back at her.

  Yelping, she dove to the right. My gold-tinged ball of power struck a parked car, lifting it three inches. It hit the ground and the alarm went off.

  “You good, Trent?” I shouted, spinning to the man behind me. “Rhombus!” I exclaimed again, seeing as I’d hit my circle and it had fallen. My circle rose up anew, and then the man’s black goo coated it, becoming hard, trapping me.

  Adaperire, I thought smugly, and his binding spell flaked off in shiny sparkles of gold. I inhaled, drawing energy into me like water. A thread of my thought reached out to find the demon collective. Stored curses sifting past my awareness like snow—until one fell lovingly into my hand. “Implicare!” I shouted, shoving it through my hands and hitting the startled man square in the chest. He went down, tangled in a glowing net of gold and red. That one is legal, right?

  And then I was falling, my balance gone as the ground shook.

  Gasping, I rolled. It had been Trent. I looked up from the cold pavement to see he was okay, half kneeling under whatever force he’d just unleashed. The lead assassin was picking herself up, but another cowered under an orange bubble.

  “You okay?” I shouted, and Trent grinned, a new spell already forming in his hands. My man had gotten up. It was our two on their three, and I smiled back.

  “Someone give me a fucking gun!” Pike demanded, and I spun, lips parting when I saw that he’d wheeled himself out, one eye swollen shut, the other utterly black in rage.

  That’s right. I have a gun, I thought. Lips rising in a wicked smile, I drew it, running at the woman while shooting at the man circling behind me.

  The man deflected it, the little blue splat ball busting to make a wet smear. But that was okay. I was really after the woman.

  “Arrrrrgh!” I shouted, launching myself feetfirst at her. The solid impact of hitting her gut sang through me, and then I hit the ground in a controlled fall. “Take a nap, sunshine,” I said as the woman gasped, my unexpected physical attack reaching her whereas everything magical had been deflected. Satisfied, I shot her with my splat gun, and she was out.

  “One down!” I shouted, then cowered at the boom of electricity that shook the ceiling. Little patters of concrete rained down, and I squinted, scrambling up as more car alarms began hooting. The lights, such as they were, flickered and died. Jeez, Trent. I thought elves are supposed to be stealthy and quiet.

  “Pike, stay out of this,” I demanded as the man wheeled himself to a halt beside me.

  Trent had blown the electric grid, and it was twice as dark. His opponent was still up, and I cried out a warning, cowering as Trent deflected a glowing mass to hit a pillar, cracking it.

  But with one of them down, they couldn’t circle us, and I shot little bolts of energy at the man facing me, driving him back and preventing him from retaliating until I was again between him and Pike.

  “Gun,” I said as I tossed it to the beaten vampire, and Pike caught it, swollen hands fumbling. “If you get hit with magic, throw it before the splat balls burst and knock you out.”

  “Fire in the hole!” Trent shouted, and I lurched to Pike, snapping a circle of protection around us as flames billowed up and over. For an instant, I thought I’d made a mistake as the air flashed hot and my hair lifted in a wave of heat, and then it was gone and Trent was rising tall amid the stench of charred paint and melting rubber. His man was down. This is going to be expensive. . . .

  “I’m not paying for that,” I said, jumping when a tire exploded, a veritable cannon under the low ceiling.

  “There!” Pike called, and I turned to the remaining assassin, my hips swaying and line energy crackling from my wild hair as I let my protection bubble fall.

  “Too late to walk away,” I said as the man dropped to his knees, his hands scribing a glyph before him. I frowned, not having seen this before, halting when he rose to stand on it, the energy in his hands flashing a brilliant orange.

  “Rachel, down!” Trent shouted, and I set a circle. “No!” he exclaimed, and then the assassin’s energy hit me, going right through my circle as if it didn’t exist.

  And as the man before me smiled, I found I couldn’t breathe.

  Son of a bastard, I thought, staring at the glyph. Okay, my lungs weren’t working, but I could still hit him, and I ran forward, a surge of energy a flash on my skin as I broke my circle.

  The man’s eyes widened. His hand shifted to make a new curse, and then I was there, a roundhouse kick sending him flying off the glyph.

  My chest was on fire. I dropped, fingers scrabbling to erase the glyph, but my breath wouldn’t come in.

  “Rachel!” Trent cried, and then he plowed into the man to send them both scraping across the pavement. I. Couldn’t. Breathe. I dropped to a knee, my vision graying. “Circle it! Make it yours!” Trent exclaimed, throwing me the stick of chalk he’d taken from the assassin.

  It hit my palm with a firm and certain thump.

  Circle it, I thought, little bumps of sensation rising through me as I scribed a line around the glowing glyph. You are mine.

  And when the beginning and end of the line met, the suffocation charm broke with a ping.

  I sucked in my air with a gasp, hand shaking as I looked up past my hair. The assassin had forced Trent to retreat, the close-magic hissing and popping between them. Pike’s hand was steady, but he didn’t shoot, afraid of hitting Trent.

  Curse me with a suffocation charm, eh? I thought, still gasping as I struggled to my feet. I was still on the glyph. “Pacta sunt servanda,” I intoned to bounce the curse back to him, and the assassin jerked, spinning from Trent to me in horror. Immediately Trent downed him with a spell, and the man lay on the cement, clawing at his neck.

  I stood taller, feeling filthy and sore. “If you’re going to use a glyph to kill someone, make sure it stays yours,” I rasped.

  “Always coming in light,” Pike said, then plugged him with a sleepy-time pellet.

  Still clutching his neck for air, the man slumped, out cold.

  CHAPTER

  10

  The thought to leave the last assassin to suffocate under my sleep charm was hard to best, but I sullenly drew a tail on the glyph, breaking the curse completely. The assassin was still unconscious, but his chest rose and fell, and color returned to his face.

  “Son of a bitch,” Pike muttered. He was still in the chair, but his kick sent the man sliding all the way to the woman out cold by the cracked pylon.

  Back hunched, Trent dragged the last man to them both. He looked marvelous, even if he was limping and had a dirt smear running the entire length of his side. Thankfully the car alarms had stopped, but the biting scent of burnt rubber was chokingly thick and people coming from the terminal had noticed, gathered in small knots to watch from a distance.

  “Everyone alive?” I said, wishing I had a hair scrunchy in my bag.

  “For the moment.” Trent’s voice was low as he tried to smack the dirt off himself.

  “I don’t have enough salt water to break a sleep potion,” I said, and Trent nodded, a brief glow of magic wreathing his hand before a visible haze coated the assassin he had downed.

  The man came to with a jolt as Trent’s counterspell soaked in. Pike grinned a cracked-lip smile at him as he struggled . . . then he went still, a resigned expression on his face.

  Dirty and sore, I ambled over, collecting my bag and jacket as I went. The cameras were busted, but there were people watching. Whatever I did would be online in thirty seconds.

  What would I give for some privacy. I handed Pike my jacket and bag to hold, then bent over the assassin glaring up at me, helpless with his partners sprawled around him. “Everyone here is alive,” I said. “Think about that. Come after Pike, and you are coming after me. I thought that would have been obvious. Spread the word.”

  He looked at his partners, then me. “Sure,” he croaked out.

  “Okay, put him back under,” I said, and Trent made a satisfied sound.

  Pike, though, wheeled himself closer, the spicy, sour scent of angry vampire rising even through the smell of melted tires and singed paint. “Kill them,” he demanded, and Trent shook his head, aware of the phone cameras on us as well.

  “No,” I said as magic wreathed Trent’s hands. “They did this for money, and money isn’t worth dying an excruciating death. Right?”

  “Right,” the assassin rasped, and then he was out, downed by a whispered elven word.

  “Son of a bitch, I don’t believe you!” Pike raged, shaking as he sat in his chair. “They were going to kill me twice, and you’re letting them live so they can try again?”

  “They won’t try again. You can hit them if you want,” I suggested as I fingered my sore knee, and his lip curled. Damn it, I’d scraped a hole in my best pair of lightweight leather pants.

  Smelling of green trees and grass, Trent sidled up beside me. “Are you okay?”

  I frowned, not liking how he was staring at my wild hair. “We need to get out of here.”

  Still in his chair, Pike kicked the woman, the ugly thump making me wince as she groaned under the sleep charm. “That’s for the crack about my mother,” Pike said, his voice thready with pain.

  “Okay. You avenged your mom. We need to leave,” I said as I swung his chair around.

  A low chuckle echoed in the underground garage, and I jerked to a halt, focusing on it.

  “Little brother, you must be a cat. How many times do I have to try to kill you?” a tall man in slacks and a lightweight shirt said, phone in hand as he stood beside a pylon.

  Crap on toast, it was Pike’s brother.

  “Took you long enough.” Pike spit a wad of blood, and it hit the cold cement with an ugly sound. “Brad.” He handed me my bag and jacket, but I wouldn’t let him stand up, and he dropped heavily into his wheeled chair as I shoved him down. “You look sucked out.”

  “Are you sure you’re not dead? You look dead.” The man pushed from the pylon but didn’t come any closer. “Why should I get my hands dirty when I can pay someone to do it?” A wide, long-toothed grin crossed his face. “Well, that didn’t work. I thought witches might get through. I’ll try something else next time.”

  “You talk too much,” I said, splat gun raised. He’d only dodge it, but it would get him to shut up.

  “Wait!” Trent shouted, and I jerked, my splat ball bursting against the low ceiling when a gray, slim shadow darted out, aiming right for Brad.

  “Ivy!” I cried, recognizing her as she slammed into Pike’s brother, knocking him into the pylon before swinging him to thump into a car. The car alarm went off, and she bitch-smacked his head into it again to make the alarm warble and turn off. Three hits in two seconds—and he was done.

  “My God, you look great!” I said, pacing forward as Pike’s brother slid to the pavement at her feet. “Jenks said you were coming in early. This is lucky!”

  Ivy took a slow breath, beaming one of her rare, beautiful smiles. “I see nothing changed while I was gone,” she said, and I gave her a hug, eyes closed as I felt her arms wrap around me. Her quick squeeze and even quicker release were a reminder of how rare and fleeting any touch was for her, and I smiled, feeling the tears threaten. It had been months, and I’d been worried.

  “Damn,” Pike swore as I beamed at her. I knew I was flushed. I didn’t care. The scent of happy vampire coming from her was hitting me as if I’d been sipping tequila all day.

  Trent limped forward, relief and welcome on his face. “Impeccable timing, Tamwood,” he said, and the two nodded warily at each other. It was the best he’d get. Ivy was not free with her trust, but when she gave it, it was absolute.

  “You’re Ivy Tamwood?” Pike said as he wheeled himself forward, and Ivy nodded before reaching to slam Brad’s head into the car again to keep him out. “Damn, girl, you’re . . .”

  “I’m what?” she said, her low voice like living dust, swirling through and around us, hissing into the corners of the dark garage.

  Pike’s gaze ran down her skintight, black knit traveling outfit. “Worth dying twice for,” he said, and I smiled all the wider.

  It was obviously over, and the people at the outskirts were coming closer, a few daring to walk quickly past us one aisle over. Her flight, perhaps. We needed to leave before the airport police showed up. “Ivy, this is Pike Welroe. He’s been keeping the Cincy vamps in line. I’ve hardly had to do anything.”

  “So I see.” But Ivy was smiling as she sauntered over, her vamp-made boots silent on the cold cement. “Pleasure,” she said, showing her teeth as she carefully shook his swollen hand. “Any friend of Rachel’s stays off my shit list until they prove me wrong.”

  “Nice to meet you.” He held her hand for an instant too long, one eye narrowed in thought as she smirked at him. “Who have you been sipping on, tall, dark, and deadly? And can I join you?”

  She laughed at that, my lips parting in surprise when she bared her long, pale throat in what might be invitation. “You’re sweet,” she said, then sort of shoved me out of the way to get behind his chair and push him into motion. “Where’s your car?”

  “Trent is parked two flights up,” I said, jumping when Pike’s brother made a soft groan, and Trent slammed Brad’s head into the car again.

  “He can hardly stand up, and he’s flirting?” Trent whispered, but I thought it was more than that. Ivy had two souls in her—her own and Nina’s. The incongruity created an almost visceral attraction, whether the vampire was alive or dead, apparently. And where allure settled, so did the power to persuade. Not that Ivy had ever had any problem in that area.

  “Seriously,” Pike said as she wheeled him closer. “How long are you in Cincinnati?”

  “Maybe when you’re up to it,” she said. Ivy liked scars, and I flushed, a hand running over my perfect skin. It hadn’t always been like that.

  “Ladies, what do you want to do with, ah, Brad?” Trent asked, voice tired. “I can’t keep slamming him into cars.”

  Pike snickered. “Why not?”

  “They confiscated my knives,” Ivy said. “I wasn’t expecting having to go through TSA.”

  “I’ve got one,” Pike said, and Ivy almost purred, wrestling it out of his hand when it glittered in the faint light. “Hey!”

  “Don’t pull it if you aren’t going to use it,” she said, which made no sense to me, but I think she was flirting.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I said when Trent pulled Brad’s head up by his hair and Ivy took a step closer. “Come on, guys. We’re probably still on a camera.”

  “I know a basement with a dirt floor,” Pike said, and Trent glanced at me hopefully.

  “Good Lord, no,” I said firmly as I swung my bag around. “I have an idea. One that might serve us twice.”

  “Still the fun-sponge,” Ivy said with a sigh, and Trent eased his grip on Brad’s hair. Yep, all my friends were savages. Sometimes I wondered what that made me.

  “He’s my brother,” Pike said as I searched my bag to find that wand right where I left it. “I say he dies. One less idiot gunning for me.”

  There it is. . . . “You screwed up, so I decide who lives and dies today.” Wand in hand, I dropped my bag at my feet and took a wide-footed stance on the humid-wet pavement. “Pike, how many brothers do you have?”

  “One less by sunset tonight,” he muttered, and Ivy grimaced suspiciously at the wand. She never did like the witchier aspects of me, probably because I’d used them on more than one occasion to remind her that no means no. We all have our pasts to overcome.

  “Okay.” I stood before Brad, wand tapping my palm to send little jolts flickering through my aura. “You kill him, and more come. I have an idea to maybe stop it all.”

  “Yeah? What does it do?” Pike asked as Trent made a worried mmmm of sound.