There were no words to make this better, no magic to bring them back, no miracle waiting in the wings.
All Midas could do was kneel beside her as her fists clenched and her jaw ground with white-hot rage.
Ambrose whirled in a circle over her head, a funnel of dark intent, and Midas swore the shadow cast him a worried glance as if he too were concerned for her. But that couldn’t be right. If she was close to breaking, Ambrose ought to be rejoicing.
“You don’t need to be here for this.” Bishop crouched on her other side. “Let Midas take you home.”
Voice distant, eyes vacant, she stared ahead, seeing nothing. “This is exactly where I need to be.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.” Bishop reached in his pocket and, moving faster than Midas credited him for, stabbed her in the upper arm with a hypodermic needle. “Midas, you might want to catch her.”
A red haze blinded him, and his teeth ached to clamp shut over Bishop’s throat, but Hadley’s spine curved as she began to collapse. Midas made his choice, the only choice, and grabbed her shoulders before she kissed the pavement. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Above them, Ambrose popped like a balloon after a pin pierced its surface and vanished from sight.
“You want to go next?” He produced a second, larger needle. “I came loaded for bear, which in this case means gwyllgi. I put you down, and you’re not getting up for forty-eight hours.”
“Try it,” Midas growled, his entire body vibrating.
“Settle down.” Bishop spread his hands. “I’m faster than you think, Goldilocks.”
“Explain yourself…” water pooled in his mouth, his fangs itching his gums, “…or I will kill you.”
“Still mad about me blowing her up, huh?” He checked the streets from left to right. “Not here, and not now.”
“I’m not moving an inch, and neither are you, until you give me a reason.”
Bishop stared at him, in the eye, which not many people dared to do if they wanted to keep breathing. A heartbeat passed, then two, and the beast under his skin turned restless, eager, quivering in his gut.
“Linus made the call, and he was right to,” Bishop said at last. “He couldn’t predict how she would react, how bad it would get, and he wanted her neutralized until he got here.” He studied the sidewalk. “It could have been worse. It could still get worse. You know their deal.”
Midas did know their deal, and it sickened him to his core to think Linus would ever raise a hand to her.
But he would, if he had no other choice.
And Midas…he wasn’t sure he could let that happen anymore.
Hadley wasn’t an unthinking, unfeeling monster. She was more, she was better, she was his.
“Dial it down,” Bishop warned. “You’re going to leave me without a choice, and that would suck.”
With Hadley unconscious, there was no harm in asking, “Have they found the bodies?”
“No.” Bishop scanned the wreckage. “This building was all wood. It was over as soon as it started.”
“Let me know when they’re recovered.” Midas stood and brought Hadley with him. “And don’t visit until I tell you I’m ready to see your face again without gnawing it off then picking it from my teeth.”
“That’s what I like about you gwyllgi.” Bishop eased a few steps away. “So visual.”
Unease rippling down his spine, Midas turned from Bishop and carried Hadley to their home.
Hadley slept the entire day and well past dusk on the futon in the loft of their apartment. The height and the wall at his back settled his other half, and he appreciated how the narrow staircase meant no one could sneak up on them.
Linus might come through the front door, or he might use the fire escape, but there was only one way he would gain access to the loft. Through Midas.
A commotion in the hall perked his ears, and he leaned forward, ready to pit himself against anyone who dared harm his mate in her weakened state.
The knock on the door was unexpected, but their guests didn’t wait for him to give permission.
“Midas?” a familiar voice called as the door swung open. “Are you here?”
Grier Woolworth entered the loft with her long, dark hair in a ponytail high on her head. She stared up at him through the thick fringe of her bangs, her eyes ice-blue in color but warm when she spotted him. She had known Lethe long enough to guess he would have chosen the high ground to make his stand.
“Bishop warned us guests might not be welcome.” She didn’t come closer. “Are you okay with this?”
“Yes,” he growled down at her, his voice unrecognizable.
“We’re here to help.” Grier flashed her empty palms. “We’re not going to hurt her.”
Heart pounding, lungs burning, he crouched at the head of the staircase. “I can’t risk that.”
“She hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“Yet.” His lips peeled from his teeth. “That’s what you mean.”
“We’re here to make sure she doesn’t escalate.” She inched forward. “We care about her too.”
Years of friendship with Grier clashed with his primal instincts concerning his mate.
Grier was pack, family, but she was just as capable of sinking a blade through Hadley’s heart if it kept her former best friend from embracing her darker half again.
“Stay where you are, Grier.” Fur brushed the underside of his skin. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then don’t.” Linus strolled through the door, hands in his pockets. “Hadley would never forgive you.”
The wraith usually at his side was absent, thanks to the ward barring his kind entrance to the building, but Linus was no less dangerous without Cletus.
Fingernails lengthening into claws, Midas widened his stance. “But she would be alive to hold a grudge.”
“I give you my word, I won’t harm Hadley unless she becomes a danger to others.”
Already shaking his head, Midas couldn’t trust him. “She’s my mate.”
“I’m aware.” Linus stopped beside Grier, shielding her with his body, which earned him an
