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“Ballocks!” He yanked off his smoking jacket, discarding it. Mind back on their predicament, he said, “We’ve got to keep moving.” He swooped her up in his arms again to start up the rise.

At the top, he used his free hand to retrieve his phone from his pants pocket. “So much for guaranteed reception anywhere in the worlds.” He swore under his breath. “Think there was an asterisk after that claim.”

“Maybe all the nearby mystical energy and portals are affecting it.”

He pocketed the phone and surveyed their surroundings. “I’ll be fucked if I know where to go.”

“When those demons fail to return, will more follow?”

“Possibly no’. Bounty hunters never tell others if they’ve got a hot lead. They fear getting scooped more than anything.”

“So where did those demons get the lead from? Do you think our cuffs are still working?”

“Aye. This situation stinks of an informant.”

“Then we’ve got to figure out who betrayed us. It could be anyone who knew we were at the inn.” Paranoia gripped her.

His gaze darted. “We can’t talk here. Too many trees.”

Iona had said the nymphs never entered the forest, but had she been telling the truth? “I agree. Can you get us to the cave? We’ll regroup there.”

“Done.” He started running once more.

In a lower voice, she said at his ear, “You suspect Iona? She despises the warlocks, and she warned us to take cover.” What if the nymphs had been hurt in the attack?

“The warning might be a ruse,” he pointed out. “If she did inform on us, then mayhap she dinna do it by choice. Remember, I was sold out by a nymph who was my friend.”

“Shouldn’t we suspect Desh before Iona? He must ally with other demons, and you said he couriered the clipping this morning.” As soon as Ren uttered the words, she wanted to take them back. Desh had been kind.

“I’ve trusted him with my life in the past. Hell, if I go there, I’d have to also turn my gaze to Loa. She warned me no’ to trust her.”

“Loa definitely didn’t do it.”

“How can you sound so sure?”

Because she and I plot to take out Dorada. Ren had first contacted the priestess a couple of days ago, during one of the few times Munro had slept.

“. . . Ren! What can I help you with?”

“I think it’s I who can help you.”

“And will this mysterious favor have strings attached?”

“I’m a carnie. Count on many strings. . . .”

Before Ren had confided her secret mission, she’d bound Loa in vows to the Lore, making her swear not to reveal a hint in word or deed to Munro or anyone else.

Now Ren told him, “Loa wouldn’t betray us because she knows the bounty is a sham.”

He nodded. “Aye, then. I dinna want to suspect her.”

As miles passed, fog moved in to bathe the trees, the Cursed Forest looking spectral and forbidding. She and Munro were on the run, cut off from allies and with limited gear—one hexed knife, a pair of cloaking cuffs, and two magic stamps. She wondered what else Dream Duds could conjure. If she imagined wearing a canteen or a sleeping bag, would they appear?

Munro continually scanned for threats, but he always returned his penetrating gaze to her. Just as he’d done days ago—or a century ago—he carried Ren as he would his most treasured possession, never putting so much as a bruise on her.

After reading Jacob’s obituary, Ren now knew that Munro’s frenzied jaunt to the past had indeed saved her. Immortals had taken much from her, yet this Lykae had given her back her very life. He’d risked his own to journey through time for her.

Almost as important as saving her, he’d trusted her earlier, going along with her plan against the demons. For a woman like Ren, his trust meant the world.

And now it was his turn to take the lead in their escape. He stuck to streams and planted deceptive scent trails, a capable partner. As he put more distance behind them, she allowed herself to relax in Munro’s arms and let him protect her.

Her senses registered each contraction of his working muscles. The warmth of his skin. His pounding heart. Desire for him spiked, despite all the danger surrounding them—or maybe in part because of it.

When the waterfall came into view, vertigo swept over Ren. It felt like lifetimes ago since they’d been here.

Past. Present. Fate. Maybe she was meant to be in this place at this moment—with this male.

The memory of that lightning-struck tree flashed in her mind. No matter how much the tree might have wished to continue on with its usual existence, it’d been forever changed by that bolt.

I’ve been changed by Munro.

There was no going back.

THIRTY-EIGHT

Now what the hell do we do? Munro wondered as he set about starting a fire.

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