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Fergus countered his taunt. “I thought maybe the two of you were planning to die here together. I think it’s a very romantic idea. In fact, I intend to help you both toward that end. Right now.”
“Like hell.” Sydon growled and came at Fergus again, whipping his sword through the air at waist-level. Fergus pivoted and with his own sword caught Sydon’s blade hard so that Sydon leaped backward several feet.
Sydon then struck out again, creating a series of thrusts and swipes that had Fergus’s feet hopping. He moved in tandem with what he could see easily through his dreamglide.
Sydon was a better swordsman than he was a fighter, however, and each attack came faster.
The whole time he battled with the wolf, Fergus felt the click of the bomb’s timer like a heartbeat pounding inside his head.
Three minutes and counting.
Fergus’s sword arm vibrated with each strike of steel against steel. Finally, he saw his opportunity, whirled and sliced swiftly across Sydon’s abdomen. He could feel his blade catch flesh, thank God. He had to get Mary out of the bunker.
Sydon levitated backward several feet and looked down at his bleeding abdomen. “You bastard.”
Sandrine suddenly called out, “Sydon, my love, I can smell your blood. Did the wolf hurt you?”
Through the dreamglide, Fergus watched the also-invisible witch fly quickly through the several adjoining rooms toward Sydon. She was still wearing a long red velvet gown.
As Sandrine caught up with Sydon, she pulled something from her pouch, dabbing it on the wound.
How fucking tender.
Fergus was breathing hard as he checked his internal clock. Two-and-a-half minutes til detonation.
Fear gripped him. If Sandrine got involved, he wasn’t sure what he could do. Mary was still incapacitated on the couch because of the spell, as well as the amber flame drug. But he’d never be able to get Mary out in time if they kept stalling.
He called out, “Couldn’t fight this battle on your own, is that it Sydon? Didn’t have the balls, the power or anything else, did you?”
He shifted his sword from hand to hand, moving it back and forth, getting ready. “And you, Sandrine, you’re about as worthless as they come, using your power to take the lives of others. But here’s what I know about you. You’re an insect, nothing more, something I could crush easily beneath my boot.”
Sydon gripped Sandrine’s arm. “Don’t let him get to you.”
“That’s right, Sandrine. Don’t let me get to you. But I know why you hooked up with a wolf. You couldn’t make it on your own in Elegance, could you?” He could feel the bomb ticking away. Two minutes to go.
The witch’s face twisted up, taking a demon’s shape. Her coal-black eyes flashed fire. She jerked her arm away from Sydon, reached into her pouch, then flew like lightning at Fergus.
“Sandrine, don’t!” Sydon shouted.
He knew she carried a spell in her hand. But the witch had made one fatal mistake since she clearly didn’t know Fergus could see her through the dreamglide.
When she was four feet away, he flipped in the air and with years of practice, brought his sword down on the back of Sandrine’s neck. He felt the connection with blood and bone, then felt nothing but empty space. He’d severed her head.
At the exact same moment, his fae senses warned him of the sudden, overwhelming rage now flowing from Sydon.
He turned to face him, sword upright. Through the dreamglide, he watched Sydon come down fast through the air, sword high.
Fergus barely had time to counter the swift strike, but he pivoted just enough to catch Sydon’s blade with the edge of his sword. The vibration rang up his arm.
The battle was on. He met each strike with a counter strike, the sounds of metal-on-metal filling the air.
Sydon flew at Fergus, pivoting at the last second, blade coming in from Fergus’s left. But unlike Sydon, Fergus had battled for years. He leaped in a levitating move straight up, then flipped in the air to come down in front of him. His blade struck Sydon deep in his abdomen. Sydon fell backward onto the floor, screaming.
The spell lost its power and Sydon was now visible. He held his hand to his gut, blood pouring through his fingers. The cut was deep. Though Sydon might yet survive, Fergus had to get Mary out of the bunker.
He flew like a bullet in her direction.
Her voice penetrated his mind. Fergus, Sydon is up.
