Carrying the head and my weapons, I left Titus’s body standing headless in the stationary raindrops. And I padded on my massive paws away from the fight. Into the storm, under the low trees. I dropped the head and fell beside it. I cried until my guts hurt. Until my body felt broken and scoured and bleeding.
Time still stopped, I pulled the crystal and said to the trapped dragon, “I can’t trust you not to bite me. So I’m going to make sure you’re freed when I’m not nearby.” I placed the crystal on a shell and left it there, in normal time. I picked up another shell and held it directly above the crystal. And dropped it. The shell fell from twisted time and hung suspended above the arcenciel. The moment it hit, the slave to time would be free. But Leo . . . Leo would still be dead.
I moved away from her, carrying the weapons and the head of the emperor. A strange amalgamation of odors were caught on the heavy, salty wind—Leo’s paper-and-ink-scented blood, a strong fragrance of fresh-cut lemons, and surf-wet werewolves. I looked out into the gulf to see the forms, unmoving, caught in time as they rushed ashore through the dark. Clan Des Citrons. Wet rogue werewolves were behind them, and two grindylows were closing in from the water and the storm-drenched beach.
I looked to the side. Eli was closing in. Firing. Caught in a sprint, angling into a safe line of fire. Derek raced beside him. Leo’s vampires rushed to attack, swords and bare-handed. Dacy Mooney, Del’s mother, was in the lead, her sword arching back to take a Des Citrons vamp’s head. The smell/sight/sound of Molly’s earth magic, red, blue, vibrant, tearing into the night. The sight of the Bighorn Pack, one dropping his camera, racing to the battle. Overhead, three arcenciels were in real time, dropping from the clouds, glistening in the night.
And then there were Aya and Rick, rising from the water, Benelli shotguns at the shoulder. One had fired, the low, hollow thrum of shotguns, the shot hanging in the air. Slightly farther back, two Navy SEALs were rising out of the water, picking off the emperor’s vamps and humans. When time returned, the wolves would howl. The vampires would scream. The stench of silver fléchette rounds tearing through flesh, and the reek of poisoned blood, would taint the air.
My not-so-secret last-ditch defense to protect our people and to keep the military from accidentally taking us all out. Because of my phone call, Gee had made sure that Ayatas FireWind and all the might he could call upon were a presence in the dark, in case Titus pulled a fast one and his people attacked. All of Leo’s merged paranormals were here, fighting together. Finally. But too late to save the Master of the City.
I should be out there. I needed to be there. I tensed to move. Pain slashed through me. I fell to the sand, hands and knees catching me. Gasping. Pain like a thousand snakes in my gut, biting me all at once. I screamed. Boneless, I landed on the sand.
Beast padded into the forefront of my brain. She pressed down on me, sending me to sleep.
* * *
• • •
Beast looked inside at Jane’s snake. The snake that was at the heart of all beings was twisted, knotted, frayed. It had four strands, not the two strands it was supposed to have. It was broken, like the body of prey that raced away and fell off a ledge into a deep place.
Beast looked into Jane’s belly. There were dark places there. Sickness. Growing fast. Jane was dying. But . . . Beast was best ambush hunter.
Beast found own form and shed mass into sand on beach. Stepped into form of Puma concolor, mountain lion. Shifted. Beast’s snake in heart of all things was healthy. Was strong.
Time returned, storm throwing cold rain and lightning to ground. Arcenciels dove to earth. Trapped arcenciel leaped for sky. Rain beat into pelt. Lightning flashed, hitting water. Hate storms. Hate rain.
Struggled out of Jane clothes. Shook pelt. Did not help. Rain still fell, cold and wet. Beast looked out at storm. At dark forms fighting in curling water. Eli and Derek and Tequila boys, fighting. Rick and Ayatas firing on vampires arising from water. Other humans with them. Hunters Jane called military. Smelled lemons and silver and blood. Smelled human blood and vampire blood. Smelled much death. Bruiser stood on sand, watching fighting. Seeing Leo body. Tears leaked down his face.
Bruiser shed tears for friend.
Fighting slowed. Tequila boys carried bodies to shore. Vampire bodies smelling of Titus and of lemons. More fighting on ship out in curling water. Derek had sent Bruiser’s boat to attack emperor’s boat. Was good Enforcer. Derek did not need Jane now.
Beast hungered. Considered head of dog-fanged king of vampires. Was like alpha lion of strongest pride of African lions. Was tasty? Beast pawpawpaw to head. Licked at neck. Was tasty. Strong blood. Beast extended claws. Pulled head to body. Lay belly to sand. Ate mouth and face of vampire. Ripped off jaw from alpha of vampire pride. Was strong blood. Strong flesh.
Would stay Beast for one day or five. Would be good to hunt for fish in water and kill birds nesting onshore. Crunched into skull. King of vampire brain was tasty.
Much later, after sun rose and its warmth stole territory from winter night, Beast looked up. Eli was watching. Leaning against tree, arms crossed to hide claws. Human sign of peace. Beast chuffed. Licked lips. Batted parts of skull to Eli. Crown of skull whirled in sand. Stopped. Beast panted. Waited.
“Leo’s in a box of blood. His head is still attached, but not by much. Probably not enough to save him.”
Beast growled. No. Leo head was gone. Flying. Eli is stupid kit. Leo is dead.
Eli said, “And worse, an arcenciel appeared out of nowhere and bit him. Arcenciel bites are psychotropic and psychotoxic. It might be months before we know if he survives and if he’s sane.”
Beast took a soft, slow breath, understanding. Arcenciel Jane set free hadn’t bitten us. Arcenciel changed time. Arcenciel bit Leo body.
Eli kept talking. “The Vodka boys set up a distraction with George’s boat and a SEAL team boarded Titus’s ship. Freed the captives—the Carusos, two witches who had been using a form of Cym’s obfuscation charm to hide the ship from the military, an Onorio who hung in chains. Turned all the others over to Edmund.”
Beast licked own jaw and muzzle free of blood. Tasted good on tongue.
“While Soul fought her own kind and then tried to save Leo, Derek and I took the fight to the water. Rick and Ayatas and a small group of SEALs caught Clan Des Citrons and the rest of Titus’s fangheads trying to get ashore. For once you didn’t just fly by the seat of your pants, Babe. You did good setting that up officially. Ayatas had the ear of the FBI, CIA. You figured he had the ear of the other government services and military too.”
A tone of satisfaction entered his voice. “The fangheads didn’t make it ashore.”
Beast chuffed. Jane is sneaky. Made sound of kit call, high-pitched and sweet.
Eli kept talking. “Edmund already took over the reins of the U.S. territory. Leo did well to make Ed his heir. He’s making peace with everyone, whether they want it or not.” Eli smiled slightly. “He’s good at this. He’s spoken to the press, to the governor, and to members of Congress on the phone. He’s making plans to go to Europe and take over there, in your name, and he’s taking Grégoire with him to take over those holdings at the same time. He appointed Alesha Fonteneau to run NOLA until he gets back. Once things are settled, he wants you to go to the European court and take over as the Dark Queen.”
Beast shook head in human way, side to side, trying to think like Jane. Leo head is not gone? Saw Leo head fly into air. Thought about arcenciel in crystal. About Soul hiding on island. Timewalkers. Better timewalkers than Jane.
Eli smiled tiny smile. “Molly’s okay. So is her baby. You staying here for a while?”
Beast nodded once. Stupid human move.
“There’s food in the house. Call when you want to come home.”
Home. To Jane den. With Eli and Alex. With Jane sick and dying. Beast snorted softly. Eli walked away.
* * *
• • •
I woke up under the low tree. Human shaped. Naked. The sun was a scarlet wash of color in the west. There was a bag that looked waterproof hanging in the limbs of the tree just above me. I reached up and touched it. The bag was dry. The sand beneath me was dry. The air was cold and damp, blustery, but the sky was bright, the cerulean blue of sunset with a single star and a sliver of moon half-hidden in distant clouds. The island felt empty. The house had no lights. Everywhere was dark, silent. Deserted.