Darkness Splintered

plane, let alone partially disengage from my skin, as it had in the past.

“What’s wrong now?”

I glanced at Ilianna – my best friend, flatmate, and a powerful witch in her own right. Her warm tones were rich with concern, and not without reason. After all, she’d only just managed to save the life of her mate, Mirri, from my father’s foul magic, and here I was again, threatening not just Mirri’s life, but Ilianna’s, her mom’s, and everyone else’s who currently stood within the walls of this place. Because not even the magic of the Brindle, as powerful as it was, would stop the Raziq. It had been designed to protect the witches from the evil of this world. It was never meant to be a defense against the evils from the gray fields.

“The Raziq hunt us.” Azriel’s reply was flat. Matter-of-fact. Yet his anger reverberated through every inch of my being, as fierce as anything I could feel from the Raziq. But it wasn’t just anger; it was anticipation, and that was possibly scarier. He drew his sword and met my gaze. If the ominous blue- black fire that flickered down the sides of Valdis – which was the name of the demon locked within the metal of his sword, who imbued it with a life and power of its own – was anything to go by, she was as ready to fight as her master. “We need to leave. Now.”

Ilianna frowned. “Then go home —”

“We can’t,” I cut in. “Home’s gone.”

It had been blown to smithereens when I’d thrust the black steel of my own demon sword into my father’s flesh and had allowed her to consume him. And it was an action I didn’t regret, not after everything the bastard had done.

“Yes,” Ilianna replied. “But the wards your father gave us should still be active. I placed a spell on them that prevents anything or anyone other than us from moving them.”

Azriel’s gaze met mine again. “If they aren’t active, then we stand and fight. They still need you, no matter how furious they might currently be.”

Yes, but they didn’t need him. And they would destroy him, if they could. Still, what other choice did we have? No matter where we went, either here or on the gray fields, others would pay the price. I swallowed, then stepped toward Azriel.

“Good luck,” Ilianna said.

I didn’t reply. I couldn’t. Azriel’s energy had already ripped through us, swiftly transporting us across the fields. We reappeared in the blackened ruins of the home I’d once shared with Ilianna and Tao – although to call them “ruins” was something of a misnomer. “Ruins” implied there was some form of basic structure left. There was nothing here. No walls, no ceiling, not even a basement. Just a big black hole that had once held a building we’d all loved.

I stepped away from Azriel and glanced up. The faintest touch of pink was beginning to invade the black of the sky; dawn wasn’t that far off.

Time appeared. The familiar, somewhat harsh tone that ran through my thoughts was heavy with displeasure. Alone should not be.

Sorry. I felt vaguely absurd for even issuing an apology. I mean, when it was all said and done, Amaya was a sword. But somewhere in the past few days, she had become more of a friend, more than merely a means of protection.

And in this case, she certainly deserved an apology. In my desperation to see whether Mirri had lived, I hadn’t given Amaya a second thought. Obviously, neither had Azriel; otherwise, I’m sure he would have collected her. I picked my way through the rubble and found her half-wedged in the blackened soil. I pulled her free, and felt a whole lot safer with her weight in my hand.

“The Raziq have split,” Azriel commented.

Confusion – and a deepening sense of dread – ran through me. “Meaning what?”

The ferocity that roiled through the connection between us gave his blue eyes a hard, icy edge. “Half of them chase us here. The rest continue toward the Brindle.”

“Oh, fuck!”

“They plan to demonstrate the cost of misdirection, and there is nothing we can do to prevent it.” His expression hardened further, and I hadn’t thought that was possible. “And before you say it, I will not let you endanger yourself for them.”

“And I will not stand here and let others pay the price for decisions I’ve made!”

“We have no other choice.”

“There’s always a fucking choice, Azriel. Standing here while others die in my place is not one of them.”

“Making a stand at the Brindle will not alter the fate of the Brindle.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” I thrust a hand through my short hair and began to pace. There had to be an answer. Damn it, if only Ilianna had had the time to create more protection stones… The thought stuttered to a halt. “Oh my god, the protection stones.”

Azriel frowned. “They are still active. I can feel their presence.”

“Exactly!” I swung around to face him. “You need to get them to the Brindle. It’s the only chance they have against the Raziq.”

“I will not —”

“For god’s sake, stop arguing and just do as I ask!”

He crossed his arms and glared at me. His expression was so fierce my insides quaked, even though I knew he would never, ever hurt me.

“My task here is to protect you. No one else. You. I cannot and will not leave you unprotected, especially not now.”

Not when there is life and love yet to be explored between us. Not when you carry our child. The words spun through my thoughts, as fierce as his expression and yet filled with such passion my heart damn near melted. I walked back to him and touched his arm. His skin twitched, but the muscles beneath were like steel. My warrior was ready for battle.

“I know it goes against every instinct, Azriel, but I couldn’t live with myself if anyone at the Brindle died because of me.”

“And I would not want to live without you. There is nowhere that is safe from the wrath of the Raziq.”

“Maybe not —” I hesitated, suddenly remembering what he’d said about the Aedh temples and the remnants of the priests who still haunted that place. They weren’t ghosts, as such, more like echoes of the beings they’d once been, but they were nevertheless damn dangerous. I’d briefly encountered one of them when I’d chased the sorceress to hell’s gate, and it had left me in no doubt that he could destroy me without a second’s hesitation.

“That is not a true option,” Azriel said, obviously following my thoughts. “And there is certainly no guarantee that the priests will even acknowledge you again, let alone provide any sort of assistance.”

“That’s a chance I’m willing to take.” And it was certainly a better option than letting the Brindle pay the price for my deceit. “Those who haunt that place weren’t aware of the Raziq’s duplicity, Azriel, but I think they might be now. And you’re the one who told me that if they decide you’re an intruder, they can cause great harm.”

“But the Raziq were once priests —”

“And they’re also the reason the Aedh no longer exist to guard the gates,” I cut in. “This might be the only way both of us are going to survive the confrontation with the Raziq, and we have to take it.”

He stared at me for several heartbeats, then swore viciously. Not in my language, in his. I blinked at the realization I’d understood it, but let it slide. Right now it didn’t matter a damn how or when that had happened. All that did matter was surviving the next few minutes.

Because the Raziq were getting closer. They’d breached the barrier between the fields and Earth and were closing in even as we stood here.

Azriel sheathed his sword, then caught my hand and tugged me toward him. “If we’re going to do this, then