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“You can’t move me.”
“Do you want to die here? Do you?” Lily’s throat burned in his silence, and his blood trickled cold between her fingers. “Answer me!”
Aarin stared at her, and fear came to his eyes with a soft glisten. “No.”
“Then you won’t. Not here.”
Lily let herself breathe, easing the cloth between Estelle’s hand and the wound, hovering hers at the center of the aura. The sensation was hot, from both his blood and the trace of death. She thought of Luka and the many critters he brought home. How he could heal their injuries with a touch but never stop what was killing them if he couldn’t reach it.
This Lily could reach. All she needed was time to clean and bandage the wound.
Carefully, she lifted her hand, focusing on the trace that followed, beckoning it to her with a little extra kindness. It saturated her skin through a single finger like a whirlwind, climbing up and shriveling her entire arm in its tight embrace.
“W-what are you doing?”
“Delaying your death,” she said. “Hopefully long enough to get you out of here.”
Aarin huffed, then cringed. “Hurts worse now.”
Lily’s gaze combed over his calming aura. “Help me stand him up. Estelle.”
Estelle lost her wide-eyed stare and nodded tightly. She moved beside Aarin and gasped. “Look out!”
A scream tore through the air.
Lily whirled at the crack of a gun.
Everything went still—her body, and Gwyneth, frozen with one hand lifted overhead. A blade glinted in her grip. Her eyes widened, trembling lips parting as she stumbled and reached for her chest. She looked down at the spreading blood, then up—but not at Lily.
“No,” Estelle breathed. The pistol clattered to the ground.
Gwyneth swayed, the blade slipping from her grasp. Estelle staggered backward, clutching her hands to her chest before crumpling beside Aarin, muttering in disbelief until the words dissolved into silence.
Lily rushed to Gwyneth just as she stumbled and fell sideways, catching her before she hit the ground. Gwyneth’s hand clamped around Lily’s arm, but instead of pushing herself upright, Gwyneth sagged into her.
She clawed at Lily’s back, making small, incoherent sounds. Lily held her close, wondering if she could offer Gwyneth the same delay she gave Aarin. Time slowed, and Lily’s death-laden limb burned hot and numb. Gwyneth was already fading while Aarin remained coherent…
I can’t save them both.
Lily eased Gwyneth down, guiding her carefully onto her back.
The Wraith had no song to sing—no insistence, no displeasure, no control to fight its vessel for. Gwyneth’s emptying gaze met Lily’s, and her eyes watered. She replaced her toxic hand with her empty one, letting her touch on Gwyneth’s shoulder become only the faintest graze.
Gently, softly, Lily fed Gwyneth the Wraith’s venom.
Gwyneth’s body quieted. Her eyes glassed over, staring beyond and never to return. Her dark, angry aura faded to a light, warm eddy—as peaceful as her soul when it parted from her body.
The sound of Estelle’s screams knocked the air from Lily’s lungs. She caught her breath then knelt at her side. Estelle’s voice came in a rush of blended apologies as Aarin held her by the arm.
“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t mean to!”
“It’s okay.” Lily grasped her hands and squeezed. “It’s okay.”
Estelle went rigid in her grip, but her breathing came in gasps for air. The ground shook, and Lily and Aarin perked up.
“We need to move,” Aarin said.
As much as Lily wanted to linger, to absorb what she did, to let Estelle mourn, there wasn’t time. She couldn’t leave Jarek to do this alone. and she didn’t need Estelle or Aarin fainting from shock. Not yet.
