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My hands gripped the insides of her elbows, holding her close. Then I jerked my head back, taking a chunk of her neck with me.
She dropped to her knees. Her hand flew uselessly to the wound at her neck. Only time and blood could fix that extensive damage. Unlucky for her, she had neither at her disposal.
I spat the taste of her from my mouth and grabbed the broadsword. Gripping the leather hilt in my hand, I raised the weapon. I still had the gun tucked into my waistband. But some special moments just call for the satisfying slice of a blade.
Despite the bulkiness of the sword, I managed to bring it up easily. No hesitation or doubts stilled my hand. I brought in down hard and true. Porcia’s head rolled from her shoulders.
Before it hit the roof, both it and her body burst into flames. I dropped the sword and swung around, pulling the gun as I went. Erron and Ziggy fought the Count. Their feet were on solid ground, but I had the advantage of a bird’s-eye view.
“Erron, duck!”
The recreant didn’t hesitate or question. He simply dropped to the ground. The Count looked up a split second after the gun’s bark ripped through the night. The whites of his eyes widened and stood in stark contrast to the mottled purple of his battered face.
This bullet he caught right between the eyes.
As the inevitable sparks flared where he used to stand, I wiped a trembling hand across my forehead.
Giguhl called out. “Sabina, you need to get down here!”
I jerked back into motion. As I leapt from the building, my heart pounded.
Adam lay atop a concrete pad set into the ground. Giguhl knelt next to him, staring intently at the mage’s chest. I slowed, my stomach sinking at the sight of Adam’s too-white complexion and the beads of sweat gathered on his forehead.
I ran over and skidded to my knees in front of him. I felt Erron and Ziggy fall in behind me. “Tell me.”
Adam swallowed. “It’s just a flesh wound.”
“Bullshit,” I said, my concern making me default to clipped speech. I slapped Giguhl’s hands away to see for myself.
So much blood. I gently lifted the edge of his shirt to get a better look at the actual wound. An angry red slash— maybe six or eight inches long— cut across his lower ribs to the muscled ridges of his abdomen. Not as bad as I’d expected, but bad enough that I wanted to kill that bitch all over again.
“Can you heal yourself?” Giguhl asked. His claws were covered in Adam’s blood. My stomach clenched at the sight.
Adam swallowed and shook his head. “Too weak from all the spells.”
I rounded on Erron. “You have to do it.”
The musician’s eyes widened. “Me?”
I leapt up to get in his face. “You’ll help us fight, but you won’t help him heal?”
Erron’s face was placid, without a line of stress or guilt. “Can’t.”
I turned to Ziggy. “You, then!”
The quiet mage shook his head and held up his hands as he backed away.
“Sabina,” Adam gasped behind me. I looked over my shoulder. “They can’t help.”
“Why the f**k not?” Giguhl demanded.
“When someone goes recreant, the Council strips them of their healing powers,” Adam said in a low tone, like he was sharing a shameful secret. “It was his punishment for declaring himself outside their laws.”
My mouth fell open. When he’d told me they were outcasts, I assumed he meant they just had a difference of opinion with the Council. Not that they were shunned and stripped of certain powers. But as much as I felt bad about the seeming unfairness of that situation, my priority was getting Adam healed.
“Anyway, he’ll be fine. It’s just a scratch,” Erron said.
“You know what? If you’re not going to help, you can just leave,” I snapped.
“Sabina,” Adam said. “They just helped us.”
“Right, and now they probably just want to get back to your orgy or whatever. Don’t worry about us.”
Erron’s eyes darkened. “Yes, we do so hate to miss out on the orgy. We apologize for intruding on your street party.”
Guilt pricked behind my eyes. But I didn’t have time to apologize. Adam was still bleeding. “Bye now.” Dismiss ing the recreants from my mind, I turned to the demon. “Giguhl, go get the car,” I barked.
The air popped as Erron and Ziggy left. Adam watched me with a wary expression. “Red? You need to chill.”
“Just tell me what to do.” It humbled me to not know what to do to help him. But since I came from a race that self-healed without trying, my knowledge of basic first aid was sorely lacking.
“Take off your shirt.”
I paused. “Why?” Suspicion slowed my delivery.
He rolled his eyes. “You need to apply pressure to slow the bleeding.”
Without further comment, I ripped off my jacket and tore off my tank. The way the mancy’s eyes flared at the sight of me clad only in a bra told me he was far enough from death’s door.
“Now what?”
“Press it to the wound. Hard.”
“But won’t that hurt?” He shot me an impatient glare.
I placed the wadded shirt against the cut, pressing as instructed. The fabric went from white to red almost instantly as blood soaked in.
He hissed through clenched teeth. “More.”
Ignoring the voice inside shouting that hurting him more was the last thing I wanted, I did as instructed. Gods love him, he tried to hide his pain.
He swallowed hard. “Talk to me.”
“About what?”
He shrugged, and the look on his face told me he immediately regretted the move.
“Okay, um, have I mentioned that if you ever scare me like this again I’m going to kill you?”
“We really need to work on your bedside manner.” He paused. “But ditto.”
I drew back. “Me? I’m not the one bleeding.”
“Sabina, since we’ve known each other you’ve been staked twice—”
I cut in. “That first time was your fault. Or did you conveniently forget sending Giguhl to my apartment to shoot me with a crossbow?”
He winced, this time from a guilty conscience instead of the wound. “But I’ve had to see you in pain, too.”
I held up a hand. “Okay, fine. I get into a lot of fights. Big deal. You don’t have to worry about me. My body is a healing machine.”
“I wasn’t just talking about physical wounds, Sabina.” His hand came up to rub my cheek. “Your preternatural abilities don’t extend to less visible injury.”
