Without letting go of Murak, she let Iain’s power slide over her, cradling her close and protecting her from attack the way he would have done had he been able.
She fell to his side and pressed her hands against his bloody chest. The stab wound was deep, so close to his heart, she wasn’t sure whether it had been hit. He was bleeding heavily, telling her that there wasn’t much time.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, then ripped a thick ribbon of energy from him, causing him to groan. She closed her eyes and concentrated on finding the severed blood vessels in order to close them. Her hands slipped on his skin. Heat seared her fingertips, drying the blood beneath them. Iain sucked in a pained breath and his heavy muscles clenched tight.
The effort was grueling. She felt her cage around Murak falter, and had to let it go—had to let him go. Iain was more important.
Heat flowed through her. She could feel waves of it rising from Iain’s body, hear the air crackling with it.
The stream of power began to waver, stuttering as she demanded more from it. The shield at her back fell, exposing her to dozens of demons hungry for Iain’s blood.
There was nothing she could do. She knew instinctively that if she let go of the small thread of strength she’d managed to hold on to, she’d lose it forever. Iain would be gone. She’d be powerless. Both of them would die.
If she was going to die, she wanted it to be because she’d given her all to save him, not because she’d given up on him.
The sound of the demons behind her grew louder, closer.
They had realized her protection was gone and were closing in.
Cain fought his way toward Jackie. He couldn’t leave Autumn unprotected, so he had to bring her along, fighting with her slight weight dangling over his shoulder. He told himself it was no different from protecting a brother’s flank, but that was a fat lie.
Her limbs flopped around with every slice and thrust, forcing him to move carefully so as not to chop off her leg.
Jackie had stopped helping him kill the demons and instead knelt over Iain. She was trying to save his life. Cain knew that. He would have expected no less of her. But she seemingly had no care for herself or her safety. From the moment she’d dropped Iain’s sword, Cain knew that her life was now in his hands.
Finally, after what seemed like half a year of combat, he was only a few feet away—close enough to see faint blue sparks flying off her back.
She was still alive.
The field holding Murak in place sputtered and then dropped. Cain closed the last few remaining feet toward Jackie, cutting down wave after endless wave of armed Synestryn soldiers and smaller, clawed demons.
The blue flashes sparking at her back began to fade.
Her shield was faltering, just as the one around Murak had done.
Cain was out of options. He lunged sideways, keeping his left side and Autumn out of the reach of swords and claws. His right arm moved with frenzied speed, making his muscles burn in protest.
A blade was headed right for him. He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t dodge. It was angled to strike his right arm. He could already see his limb being severed, flying across the space to land as food for demons.
There was nothing he could do but watch as the blade fell.
The demon blade struck, but he felt no pain. Bluish sparks scattered in all directions. Half a second later, Drake was at his side, lopping off the legs of the demon who’d nearly ended Cain’s life.
The girl’s weight lifted from his shoulder. He grabbed for her, but as soon as he felt the faint, welcoming heat of friendly magic surrounding her, he let go.
Drake was here. So was Helen. She must have been the one to relieve him of his burden.
“Thanks,” shouted Cain.
Drake grunted in response, going low to strike while Cain went high. Between them, two more demons fell.
Two down, another dozen more to go.
Jackie had managed to stop Iain’s bleeding, but she was too late. He’d lost too much blood.
His breathing was fast and shallow, his heart fluttering in his chest. Tied to him as closely as she was, she could feel him trying to leave his body.
She couldn’t let go. She loved him. She needed him to stay.
She knew it was selfish, but she didn’t give a shit if it was. All that mattered was holding him close, so that’s what she did.
Jackie wrapped her arms around him, pressing her cheek to his chest. She tightened her hold on his power, refusing to let go.
“Don’t leave me,” she begged him. “Not yet.”
I have to go, she heard him whisper against her mind. You’re not safe so long as I draw breath. Soulless…
“I don’t give a fuck about that. I’ve seen your soul in your actions. You’re a good man.”
It’s too hard. My monster has grown too strong.
The core of him—the part of him that made him who he was—began to lift out of his body. She could see it in her mind, feel it through the luceria. It pulsed with power, streaming with thick, black branches. Within that mass was a narrow, golden ribbon wound tightly around it. The ribbon glowed against the darkness, stretching back into Jackie.
His soul. That giant, powerful thing was his soul. She could feel the emptiness of it, the deep aching void that had once been filled with light and life. Gone. All of it gone now—dead and scraped hollow.
He was right. There was nothing left of his soul to be saved. Dead was dead.
Grief welled up inside of her, hot and fierce, clawing and tearing her apart.
She didn’t want to live without him. Intellectually, she knew she’d eventually heal, but she’d already suffered too much. She didn’t want to suffer through his death, too.
“I love you,” she whispered. “I’ll go with you.”
No! He screamed it into her thoughts, shoving her back. She didn’t go far. She was tethered to him too tightly, knotted around him too many times to ever be free.