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The ring of flames surrounding them died, and across the clearing, Jon saw Mack climb to his feet.
He gave the FBI agent a brief nod, then turned and went back to Maddie. Kneeling down, he lifted her head onto his lap and touched her neck, feeling for a pulse.
Nothing. “Oh God, no.” Sudden fear stabbed through his heart. She couldn’t die. Not now. He shifted his fingers on her neck, desperate to find some sign of life. He could live without his soul, but he couldn’t survive without his heart. Without her.
Then life shuddered under his fingertips. Her pulse was thready and weak, but there. Relief surged through him. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers. And felt the fire under her sweat-dampened skin, burning bright.
Eleanor was dead, but her magic still held Maddie captive. She was alive but dying—being consumed by the wrath of her own fires.
The amulet. It had protected him from the worst of Eleanor’s magic. Even though he had yet to test his shapeshifting abilities, he sensed they were still very much a part of him. Maybe the amulet could undo whatever spell Eleanor had placed on Maddie.
Ripping it from his neck, he placed it around hers. The stone burned to life. Pale wisps of smoke spread out across Maddie’s body, encasing it. She jerked, then shuddered. He placed his hands on her shoulders, gently preventing her from doing herself further damage. Through her T-shirt, he could feel the heat slowly dissipating from her skin. The amulet was working. He closed his eyes and sent a silent prayer of thanks to Seline.
“Jon?”
Her voice was little more than a harsh croak, but never had he heard a sweeter sound. He smiled down at her, not daring to speak. Because if he did, he sensed that he might well ask her to stay, to never leave him again.
And despite everything that had happened in the last few minutes, or maybe because of it, he was more determined than ever to watch her walk away. She might own his heart, but he could survive without it knowing that she was safe and well out of harm’s way.
“Where’s Eleanor?”
He brushed a damp curl away from her eyes. “Mack shot her.”
Surprise flitted through their bright amber depths. Like him, she hadn’t expected Eleanor’s end to be so simple, so human. “Then Evan’s safe?”
“We all are.”
She reached up and touched
his cheek with a trembling hand. Her fingers followed the line of the cut stretching from his eye to his chin, then hesitated when she came to his neck and the steadily flowing tide of blood from his ear.
“You’re hurt,” she whispered, love and concern evident both in her gaze and in the emotive swirl around her.
It hurt him more than any wound ever could, simply because it was something he was willing to give up, something he would never have again. He took a deep breath and tore his gaze away from hers, watching Mack walk across the clearing instead.
Her confusion rolled around him, as sharp as a knife, but he ignored it and smiled at Mack grimly. “Nice shot.”
Mack nodded, stopping near Maddie’s feet to study them both with a critical eye. “Sorry about the ear.”
Jon shrugged and stripped off his coat, wrapping it around Maddie. Now that her internal heat had disappeared, she was beginning to shiver. Her skin felt like ice; hypothermia was only a step away.
“It’s a nick, nothing more. You called an ambulance?”
“Yeah. Looks like you both need one.” Mack stopped to light a cigarette. “How, exactly, am I going to explain this?”
Jon glanced across at Eleanor’s body. She was still more cat than human, trapped even in death by the white-ash dagger. Her body was beginning to disintegrate just as Hank’s had. By the time the coroner got here, there’d be little left. “Don’t try. Report the facts and let them come up with their own conclusions when they see her.”
Mack exhaled a long plume of smoke, then turned. Several men had entered the clearing, the paramedics among them.
“Help is here,” Jon said, smiling down at Maddie.
Her fingers wrapped around his and held on tight. Her touch, though icy, ran heat through his soul. But it was the accepting gleam in the tears in her eyes that was almost his undoing.
“Promise you won’t leave without saying good-bye,” she said softly.
Such a simple request, and yet one that would take every ounce of his strength to obey. It would be far easier to walk away now and never see her again. He stared at her face, trying to imprint every small detail in his mind.
“I won’t leave without saying good-bye,” he said, and felt some of the tension ease from her body.
