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“The room where they tried to drain Nova.” My entire body coils with anger. My muscles twitch, and my fists bunch closed at my sides as I remember the look on her face when she was strapped to that chair, and the way Zephyra…

I close my eyes, inhale sharply, and try not to let my powers make the ground start shaking. We’ve had a ceiling collapse once, we don’t need it to happen again. This time, we need to end Zephyra once and for all. No doubt. No chance of her surviving.

I reach out and push the door open.

It creaks a little.

The room is pitch dark, so I cast an illumination spell.

As it grows lighter, the smell of Nova’s blood hits my nostrils. It’s still here, all over the floor. There is a growling sound from deep inside the room.

I move to the side of the bed.

Zephyra.

She is crouched on the floor, licking her palms. The marks that surround her show she has been sweeping her hands through the remains of Nova’s blood, trying desperately to ingest even the smallest morsel of The Phoenix.

Lucien tuts at her. “How the mighty have fallen,” he says. Her face is grotesque. Thornfield looks at her with disgust. “You’re showing your age, Zephyra.”

He tilts his head, examining her half-falling off face. The way the skin and muscle looks like it has melted from her skin.

“Fascinating,” he breathes, then looks at me. “Is this what your phoenix can do?”

“She can do more than that,” I snarl as we form a U-shape around Zephyra, pinning her in against the wall.

From the ground, she looks up at me. Her eyes flash black and inky. She bares her fangs. “You will not harm me, Ink Heart. You can’t. You will never be rid of me.”

I lurch forward but Thornfield stops me. “She’s mine, seer. I have to end her. Not you.”

“That is not what we discussed,” I mutter.

Slowly, Zephyra rises up from the ground. She sucks her index finger into her mouth and says, “You know, I think I’ve tasted just enough of your beautiful Nova to give me the strength to kill the three of you.”

Before she’s moved an inch, Thornfield’s hand is around her throat. He stares into her eyes and for a moment it looks like they’re going to start fucking instead of fighting. But then she grabs him, spins him around, screams, and slams him hard against the wall.

He grins, throws her to the ground, and darts back, then takes off his jacket. He throws it to the floor like he’s been anticipating this all day and intends to enjoy every second of it.

Kim and I step back, and I reach into my pocket for the stake I planned to drive into the correct side of her black, miserable chest.

I splay out my arms and reach, trying to find some vines, something beneath the earth that I can bring to the surface to end the fight, to snap her neck. But there is nothing. It is too far down, buried beneath the concrete, and the tunnels are too unstable. If I do anything to disrupt the earth, I risk bringing the whole lot down on our heads for the second time.

Zephyra and Thornfield circle each other like wild animals. Zephyra bares her fangs, and makes a gnashing, growling sound. “You think you can kill me?” she coos. “You created me, Lucien. You really think, when the time comes, you’ll be able to end your own daughter? The daughter who would have been your wife if you had not betrayed her?”

Fuck, that sentence is a head spin.

Thornfield splays his fingers. Then they jump for one another. They meet in the air and tussle, grabbing each other, clawing at each other, then fall to the ground with a thud.

They roll over and over, and I’m not sure what the fuck Thornfield is playing at because he is losing this fight. He reaches for her neck, grabs hold of it. He’s on top of her. She wraps her legs around his waist and squeezes tight. Her eyes sparkle, but her face is so fucking hideous it just makes her look like a monster.

The sound of feet in the tunnels makes me turn around. The door clatters open. Zephrya’s vamps have come to save their queen.

I stand in front of Kim and draw myself taller. “Stay out of this, human,” I growl, trying to latch onto the feeling of Nova’s blood in my veins. My eyes go black. My teeth itch. I feel it, still there. I let the memory of the scent that hangs in the air enter my lungs. I breathe her in, and then I run for them.

No magic, just brute strength. I barrel toward them and knock three off their feet.

I drive the stake in into the heart of a woman who reminds me of Rev. Then another. I spin around and take out a third.

Kim hurls his knife at one and misses. Which is a shame because pure silver would have it writhing in agony on the floor.