A squeal of brakes echoed around her, and she slid her glance sideward. The team’s black van carrying medical supplies and resuscitation equipment rested at the curb. Ella continued to pummel Isabella with her energy, listening for a heartbeat. Footsteps trudged toward her, but she wasn’t sure anyone could make a difference.
“Don’t leave me, Isabella. You have to fight, do you hear me?”
“Ella—Ella.”
Hearing Marcus’s deep voice, she glanced at him as he crouched low next to her, placing his hand over her bloody one, his face taut and his eyebrows dipped as he stared at Isabella.
“She’s gone, Ella. You need to let go.”
“No—there’s a pulse, barely, but it’s there.”
Dr. Davies stood across from her, inserting an intravenous line into the witch’s arm, but as she examined Isabella, her face paled. “Ella, she isn’t going to make it.”
She couldn’t accept that. Something needed to be done. Angry shouts and yells grew louder as the fog lifted. Jake and Roman were here—fighting. She stared at the ground as Isabella lay there, lifeless. The bleeding had stopped, but what had drained from her spilled out over the ground, eating the fresh snow as it spread out.
“Fucking do it, Roman. This isn’t how it ends for her,” Jake shouted as he grabbed the vampire’s dark shirt collar.
Roman hissed and shoved the man away. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
Jake charged at the man, grunting and grabbing his shirt. “Look at her—you’re her only hope.”
The vampire studied the man as Jake removed his hands from his shirt. Ella watched the exchange between the two who cared for and loved Isabella. Roman stepped forward and shot her a brief haunted look, before dropping to the witch’s side. A flurry of curses in a language she didn’t understand came from his mouth.
Jake shadowed the vampire. “Save her and bring her back.”
Before Ella could speak, Roman lifted Isabella off the ground and vanished. She flopped back into the waiting arms of Marcus, drained and empty. He rocked her back and forth. Held in his warm embrace, she stared at the blood covering her hands. When Marcus lifted her into his arms, she didn’t resist and he carried her away. The tears would fall later. As she gripped her husband’s shirt, she studied the light where a dozen crows now gathered, flapping their wings.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
It was dawn, and the team had delayed leaving for the Veil because of the attack last night. Ella listened vaguely to the heated conversation in the dining room, staring blankly at Marcus, but his words didn’t penetrate. A numbness spread through her limbs and no matter how warm the temperature inside the room, the cold from last night remained. She glanced at her hands for the hundredth time. Angry voices filled the air, and she glanced at Jake, who still wore the same clothes from yesterday. Her gaze honed in on his navy shirt, where, above the breast pocket, lay a dark stain. Isabella’s blood. At some point, he must have touched the witch; she didn’t remember.
“Have you heard anything from Roman?” Jake shouted.
“Only that Lucius, his second-in-command, is due to arrive within the hour and is taking his place to travel to the Veil. He will have more news when he arrives.”
“What the fuck does that mean? Where the hell is Roman?”
“Jake—you have to be patient. We’re in uncharted territory here. I’m sure Roman is doing the best he can.”
Unanswered questions hovered in the air. The decision yesterday for Roman to take Isabella was a last-ditch attempt to save her. Today, the guilt and wonder whether there could have been another way tore into Jake, and Ella could see his anguish. Jake had jumped, frantic at the witch’s impending death, and pushed the vampire to act. Did he really understand what the ramifications of changing her into a vampire—if Roman managed that—would mean? She doubted it. Ella covered her mouth with her hand to stop the scream that verged on her lips.
“Ella, you don’t have to be here. I can let you know later when there is news.”
Marcus was so matter-of-fact, she could scream at him too, but kept silent, brooding. She had to be here. The Morrigan had ripped Isabella away from them all. Nothing would be the same ever again.
“I tried to heal her—I should have been able to stop the bleeding, but she had already lost too much. I couldn’t save her.” She stared at her hands as she turned them over.
Marcus reached over and grabbed hold of them. “Ella, none of this is easy. Isabella is one of us, but she’s a grown woman. A member of Orion doing her job. But she shouldn’t have charged off alone. It doesn’t help anyone now, but damn it, it’s a fucking lesson I dole out to new recruits all the time.” He ran his hands through his hair.
He huffed out his words as a muscle in his cheek twitched. Frustration rolled off him and he attempted to rein in his anger—she knew for her sake, but she needed the anger. She needed to feel something other than numbness.
“There has to be a way to kill the Morrigan!” She slammed her hand on the table. She examined the men gathered around. Marcus kept his serious eyes trained on her, with dark shadows highlighting his worry. Jake
